kkaeppsong | [yoongi/jungkook] ; the stars

[yoongi/jungkook] ; the stars

jungkook can't help feeling like his life has completely turned itself upside down all over again. sometimes it gives him whiplash. sometimes he feels like it's too much, like he's too young to have dealt with this so many times. like the last few months were some bizarre whirlwind, like now he's about to travel back in time. but in the end things are good now. he's happier than he's been in a long time, so he'll take it.

at least, in the grand scheme of things, he's happy. as a general, he's happy. but on a smaller scale right now he isn't happy. he's exhausted, more or less, all sore limbs and not enough sleep because once he started packing up his apartment, his perfectionist nature took over and it's only been a couple of days but everything except the necessities are already boxed up and ready to go. it's unnecessary work and jungkook knows it; he isn't actually moving for another week and a half, or something like that. but having it out of the way is a small relief, or at least it will be once he gets the last of it sealed up.

the time difference is something that he doesn't even really have to think about anymore. he's so used to it now that mentally checking the time where yoongi is every time he gets or sends a message is like second nature, though it doesn't always mean much. he's still on a break from regular schedules and jungkook knows that, just like he knows that his boyfriend has no concept of a regular sleep schedule and doesn't seem to harbor any desire to pick one up, either. so he doesn't pay any mind to the fact that it should be way-too-late-o'clock where yoongi is when he flops down on the floor in between a small pile of boxes and grabs his phone, pushing his hair out of his eyes. it's looking all kinds of terrible and doesn't feel much better between his fingers, kind of fried and roots grown out and shit, he did make that appointment to get it redyed, didn't he?

he can worry about that later. for now, he focuses on opening his messaging app and shooting yoongi a small string of texts to vent his frustration.

i hate this

this is the worst

why did i let you convince me to do this

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Getting from LA to Seoul takes about thirteen and a half hours when flying direct, Seoul to Busan another four hours by train, and Busan to his actual destination a twenty minute cab ride, if he's lucky with traffic. Yoongi's used to putting his body through hell--sometimes it feels like that's the only way he was even able to build his career the way he wanted--but in all honesty this is probably the most relaxing trip he's taken in recent memory. Maybe it's because he's still on his extended break, traveling comfortably alone without the usual team. There's no schedules or scripts in his bag. No planner. No equipment. He hadn't even bothered to bring along his laptop, that necessary second lover.

Or maybe it's because, for the first time in two years, things feel right again. The kind of right that feels stable, real, promising more with each day. Yoongi hasn't looked back once. He knows Jungkook isn't looking back either--because he's too busy packing up his apartment to take to LA and start a new life with him.

That's what Yoongi thinks about when they reach cruising altitude, the window outside showing nothing but soft, hazy blue as he lazily rests his forehead against the frame. The next time he'll be on a plane, Jungkook will be right next to him, stretching long legs into his foot space and claiming his shoulder to doze on. They'll look out and see their home together as they land in the city of angels, really see it for the first time. Yoongi doesn't want to miss that view, not for anything in the world.

The chime in his pocket sounds just as he's paying the driver. Pulling his suitcase to the curb, Yoongi huffs an amused cough as he skims the angry messages, eyes crinkling at the corners. It's not the first time Jungkook's accused him of such this week, but the brat's mood definitely seems to have gotten worse. Which almost makes this too easy, Yoongi typing out a couple texts of his own as he walks up the stairs to his boyfriend's apartment.

Babo. Take a break. Being cranky is my thing.

That reminds me, I sent you something that might help with the packing. Check your door, I think it should have arrived by now.

Edited 2015-11-22 18:59 (UTC)

it's funny, how much things have changed. funny how it can all feel the same and yet so different, completely different, whenever he thinks about it too much. the memories don't come to the surface often anymore, rarely at all, if ever. but it's still funny. it's funny to compare the then to the now, the feeling of sending text messages and never really knowing if or when he would get a response, when now it's almost always instantaneous. jungkook knows for a fact that yoongi will see what he has to say. he'll see it and he'll respond and even that kind of small, easy comfort is more than enough for him, most days.

predictably, it doesn't take long. he's in the middle of checking some mindless game on his phone just to distract himself when the reply comes, making him pause for a thoughtful moment. his first reaction is a light scoff, though it's paired with a grin, and then genuine confusion and curiosity that come with the knowledge that yoongi has apparently sent him something. but why would he? it's not like it's going to be that long now until they see each other again. a week and a half is nothing compared to the months that they've spent apart, and the even longer months before that. he pushes himself up to his feet once again, fingers hovering over the keys. first instinct is to send a bratty response, something to let yoongi know that well it's too late now, i'm done just because, but he decides to give this supposed surprise the benefit of the doubt first.

so he pockets his phone again and does what yoongi told him to, running fingers through his hair out of habit on the way to the door. when he opens it, the very last thing that he ever could have expected to see is yoongi himself, standing right there with a suitcase next to him, right here in busan. for a split second he just stares, before the reality mostly catches up with him and he's moving forward, crashing against yoongi's body that's warm and solid and here, long arms wrapping tightly around him with an ease that doesn't go away despite the time or distance. this is the last thing that he ever would have expected, but jungkook is learning, is surprised over and over again with the differences this time around, with the fact that this is exactly the kind of thing that min yoongi would do.

"what are you doing here?" is the first thing that comes out, in kind of a rush because holy shit. this is real. this is happening.

Yoongi would be lying if he said that getting the chance to see a completely stupefied Jungkook wasn't part of the reason why he wanted to keep this a surprise in the first place. It's not often that the younger boy looks out of his element--blame it on good genes or good looks or what have you--but he definitely doesn't disappoint now. Yoongi matches his dumbfounded expression with an innocent smile, as if he had just been taking a stroll in the neighborhood and casually decided to stop by. But it all comes crashing down regardless, Jungkook's arms around him in a second flat, squeezing out a breathless laugh from his chest.

The bear hug doesn't feel the best on his tense limbs but it's also exactly what he needs, what he's needed for four months, twenty-three days and nearly eleven hours. Yoongi pulls Jungkook in even closer because it's still not enough, nose immediately burrowing into the side of his neck and breathing in deep, as if he's been starved of some kind of drug. Sweat, the faint aroma of some cleaning product, and something just undeniably Jungkook hit him like a freight train, the familiarity of it shooting straight through his body and turning every single light on and God, this alone was worth the entire trip.

"I said I sent you something to help with packing," he presses against Jungkook's skin, which just deepens the drawl. "So here's the help." He's rubbing slow circles on the kid's back now, relishing in the fact that he can simply touch him again, that they're existing in the same space instead of trading everything through screens.

"You really thought I'd let you have all the fun?"

Edited 2015-11-22 22:52 (UTC)

it works, to say the least. jungkook is absolutely caught off guard, practically knocked off of his feet with surprise because he still didn't expect it, still can't believe that this is a real thing that's happening right now, that yoongi is actually here. the breathless little laugh that he barely even hears is like music to his ears, the warmth of yoongi's body pressed against his own again like a familiar comfort that he wasn't sure he could live for too much longer without, if he's being honest with himself. because everything has fallen back into place now. before, when they first reconnected, it was more hesitant. it was more slow, getting to know each other again and relearning how to do this, jungkook relearning how to open himself up, how to let yoongi in completely without shutting down or letting the fear of getting hurt overwhelm him.

now, it's almost like nothing happened, like nothing changed. but at the same time, everything changed. it doesn't make sense but jungkook is past trying to force it to, more willing to just accept it for what it is, to fall into this relationship wholeheartedly with yoongi as his safety net. he's the best safety net, the kind with that low voice pressed into his skin and those touches spread across his back and this is exactly why he's doing this. because it's like coming home. because yoongi is home, and it would be stupid for jungkook to deny himself this for any longer.

"mm.. i appreciate the sentiment, but you're about forty eight hours too late," he responds, though it's impossible to keep the happiness that refuses to back down out of his tone entirely. "i pretty much finished the bulk of it today, i just-" he's starting to pull back, just enough to get a proper look at yoongi when he suddenly becomes self aware. "shit.." he curses under his breath with a small laugh, because he isn't the type to get too easily embarrassed but at the same time, he didn't exactly want the image of him after four months - nearly five, really - to be one quite this disgusting.

"you might regret this if you look at me for too long. i'm supposed to get my hair fixed this week..." but it isn't just that. it's also the way his skin is starting to act up again due to the stress of getting everything sorted out in time, the way he hasn't showered yet today, the way he's currently sporting one of his oversized white tshirts and loose grey sweats.

Yoongi lets Jungkook detangle their arms from one another, too sleep-deprived and stiff to think about putting up any resistance anyways. There'll be plenty of time for more hug and cuddle sessions later on, he's sure, because there's no way he's going to be able to keep his hands to himself after all the long-distance. And Jungkook just sucks at keeping his hands to himself period, so it works out. Besides, it's so good just to hear him talk, the cadence of his voice something no phone or computer could ever really do justice to. It's nice enough that Yoongi finds himself nodding along without even realizing what he's agreeing with at first, gaze drinking in the image of the boy in front of him almost greedily.

Though to be fair, Jungkook's certainly a lot less boy then he was four years ago. No, Jeon Jungkook isn't a boy at all anymore, and it still shocks Yoongi sometimes, just how much he's grown up in the time they've spent apart. He was floored when he first saw Jungkook again at the convenience store all those months ago, unable to compute just how much more...solid he was. Bigger and taller and steadier and somehow even more handsome than he remembered him being, which was already pretty fucking handsome. The kid just didn't know how to quit.

As he soaks in everything about the younger male from head to toe, black roots to scuffed Timberlands, he can feel the shock warm into other things. Pride. Adoration. Which is also right around the time that it actually hits him, the stupid things Jungkook's saying about himself right now, notwithstanding the rare, almost-too-endearing-for-words embarrassment Yoongi reads on him like a book.

"Tch. You're right." He takes a section of dyed hair between his fingers, nose immediately wrinkling in mock distaste as he moves to pluck at the oversized shirt next. "I've never seen you look like this before. Why did I even bother coming?"

The gummy smile is out before he can even finish, calling his own bullshit as his hand tenderly smooths down the length of Jungkook's arm. The truth is that he looks every bit as good to him now, in all his perfect imperfections, as he did at the convenience store. As he did five nights ago on Skype. As he did the very first time they met. But saying that would probably just make Jungkook call him gross. Or an old man. Or both.

And then it happens again--his brain actually catching up and processing things Jungkook said. "Wait wait wait, fourty-eight hours too late? You still have over a week, what the--"

That's when Yoongi chances a look behind Jungkook, into the bright apartment. He grips his suitcase, hauls the two of them inside, and immediately stops, blankly taking in the neat stacks of boxes, one right after another, absolutely everywhere.

"Unbelievable," he mutters in English.

it's honestly a surprise that jungkook isn't more all over yoongi than he is right now, that he's still relatively calm, though maybe that has more to do with the surprise that still hasn't entirely left his system than anything else. he knows that yoongi is here, but the whole thing still makes his head a little dizzy, full of a lot of different things all at once in that way that yoongi seems to have a talent for. it's always been like this. ever since he was seventeen years old and saw him for the first time.

admittedly, the changes that yoongi has gone through in the last four years are less noticeable than jungkook's. he had already done most of his growing up by the time they met, but jungkook still notices things. he swears that yoongi has gotten at least a little bit taller, that his hair has grown out, gone through a few different colors itself and it's always fascinating how he manages to make each one of them look natural. he looks tired, but less tired than he used to, somehow. even after a hell of a long flight, even when jungkook could feel the stiff tension in his muscles, it's still not like it was before. he can tell. he can read yoongi just as easily now that they've both agreed to make it that easy, and it fills him up with a lot of things, none of which he has the words to really express.

but he doesn't need to, because yoongi is processing, that deadpan reaction and jungkook almost wants to swat his hand away. almost, because then he's breaking out into that smile, the one that takes over his expression and squeezes jungkook's heart so tight he can barely breathe. it's been so long, far too long since he's seen that like this, up close. it's impossible not to break into a grin of his own, the kind that happens when he tries to keep it close-lipped but can't, his teeth starting to peek out of their own accord. that coupled with the touch along his arm makes him want to say something entirely disgusting and romantic, far too mushy for jeon jungkook, but he's spared the potential embarrassment of his own word vomit when suddenly yoongi is talking again, sounding confused this time.

the next thing he knows they're making their way inside, which isn't a problem. he realizes what yoongi is getting at by the time he closes the door behind them, watches him take in all of the hard work and his reaction. he wants to laugh but instead he reaches out and hits his shoulder, though instead of pulling back he grips onto the fabric of yoongi's jacket lightly, unwilling to break the contact now that it's there.

"hey, who's fault is it? if you had told me you were coming, maybe i would have waited..."

he trails off slightly, moving closer despite the fact that he feels disgusting because he really is bad at keeping his hands to himself and yoongi is here. yoongi has been here for at least five minutes now and it's a tragedy that jungkook hasn't kissed him yet. so he does, leans down to close the distance and captures yoongi's lips easily. he's unable to keep himself from getting just a little caught up in it before he pulls back just barely, just enough to speak and when he does his voice is low and quiet between them, more a murmur than anything else. "... glad you're here, though."

It's ridiculous how tidy and sparse the place looks. When Yoongi had been back in Busan during the fall they had mostly spent time at the rented condo he had, not here, and now Yoongi's struggling to recall how it had even looked in the brief visits he had before. He tries to be surprised, genuinely surprised, but comes up short. This is textbook Jungkook. Should have seen it coming, in all honesty. The younger doesn't half-ass anything he sets his mind to. If it's important enough, then he's in 150% and doesn't stop until it's accomplished and that’s that--of course he would have packed and categorized all of his stuff by now.

That relentlessness was one of the qualities Yoongi loved most about him, even when it drove him up the fucking wall. It reminded him a lot of himself, to be sure, but it was also uniquely Jungkook, having such a strong will that could bend toward stubbornness on his bad days and strength on his good ones. It had always attracted Yoongi--oh how it had attracted him--but it took longer for him to truly appreciate it, accept Jungkook for exactly who he was. He definitely had a lot of growing up to do himself back then, more then he would have cared to admit at the time.

But none of this would be possible had they not gone through it, had they not stripped everything down to the core. At the end of the day, Jungkook is right exactly as he is, and Yoongi doesn't believe there's anyone better for him or anyone he could possibly care for more. He had told Jungkook that and left the rest up to him. He could have walked away, could have decided not to open up again, could have done a lot of things. But instead he gave him another chance. He stayed.

There's no real bite to his words, or his hit. Of course there isn’t. Yoongi can feel the heat of his grip even through the leather jacket, fingers pressing into the worn material in that soft, insistent way that lets him know exactly what Jungkook wants. He didn't always have the best track record with that in the past--but it's different now. It's different now and Jungkook decided to stay.

He's already turning to meet him when Jungkook leans down, closing his eyes at the softest brush of lips, the taste that's been haunting so many dreams lately. It's a physical ache, how long they've had to wait for something as simple as this. It's also nowhere near enough, but the confession Jungkook murmurs in the space between them makes him pause as well. Makes him take a deep breath, because he hasn't felt butterflies like this in a while. Totally mature, serious 26-year old butterflies, for the record.

"Yeah," he murmurs, eyes softening as he takes in Jungkook’s own tired, but happy appearance. "Me too." Pale fingers trail up the younger's arm, ghosting along his neck. When Yoongi kisses him back it's deep and it's slow and he lingers even longer in their shared breaths. He thumbs along the sharp curve of Jungkook's jaw, feeling the steady pulse. It's all so real.

"I missed you."

it's strange how the reality of the situation is settling around them now, nestling itself comfortably into jungkook's consciousness. the shock has mostly worn off now, the initial surprise at opening his door to min yoongi himself instead of the box or package he had been expecting fading into something else entirely. something that's almost overwhelming, almost just like feeling overwhelmed because all of this after all of these months of nothing is almost too good to be true. almost, because it is true. almost because yoongi is right here, because he's back in busan all over again, unexpected just like the last time but this time jungkook isn't gripped with anxiety and panic and way too many memories that he doesn't want to remember. he's stopped all of that now. he's stopped the not wanting, because the truth is there was never any not wanting in the first place.

when it comes to yoongi, jungkook wants. he wants and wants, he always has wanted and always will and there's nothing about any of it that's a bad thing. he wanted then just as much as he wants now. the ironic part is that maybe now he wants even more, that feeling that starts deep down inside of him, that pulls itself out of his chest and through his veins and burns through every part of him when yoongi so much as looks at him. he isn't the best at putting it into words. he never has been. yoongi's the one who's good at that sort of thing, at spouting pretty little pieces of his mind that make jungkook feel like a teenager again, that make him get small in that way that only yoongi can manage. it's the way that makes him feel small but only so that yoongi can hide him away, so that he can protect him and encase all of him and a lot of other really stupid, embarrassing, weird things. that's why yoongi's the one who's good at this. even his own internal monologues are enough to make him want to cringe, but it's easy for yoongi, effortless to make every single part of it melt away with the smallest touch.

it's this sort of thing that lets him know he didn't make the wrong choice. it's something he worried about before, back at the start of the second time around. it's something that left him second guessing himself sometimes but there's nothing to second guess about the way that it feels when yoongi kisses him. jungkook doesn't believe in storybook romances. he doesn't believe in love at first sight or star crossed soulmates, meant to be, reunited across space and time against all odds. he doesn't believe in any of that but he does believe in the feeling of yoongi's leather jacket under his fingertips. he believes in the deep, sweet pressure of his kisses and the scent of familiar shampoo lingering on him and the way that it makes him feel, the way that he's sure he could fall into this for hours on end without getting tired of it. and he knows that he will, that they will. it's just a matter of time.

it's ridiculous that yoongi can still kiss him breathless after all this time, but he can. he can and he does even if in a lot of ways, it isn't even that intense. it's a different kind of breathless. it's the kind that gets his pulse rabbiting just slightly underneath yoongi's touch, that makes him give a slight grin, a breathless hint of a laugh, almost embarrassed all over again. "yeah," he breathes. "me too." jungkook has never been the best with words, but he isn't entirely terrible with actions, and the way that his touch slides down yoongi's jacket, the way that his arms find their way around him again and hold on make it pretty clear that he doesn't want to let go.

Yoongi would love to keep going, to keep kissing him breathless for the remainder of the night just because he can, just because he's here and Jungkook is here and that simple equation has taken so much trial and error to get just right. But there's also a part of him that isn't done soaking him in yet. There wasn't enough time before, not when the emotions were still so heavy, when they still needed the distance to think rationally, to really listen to themselves, keeping their hands at their sides like obedient little school children. Yoongi had been doing nothing but listening to himself for the past two years, a couple more months of it couldn't hurt. And it didn't. It didn't hurt at all. It just felt like he was living a little more each day, realizing he wasn't alone on stage any more.

But this, this is what he's missed. The little things. The moments that slipped by unnoticed when Yoongi was lucky enough to catch him for the first time. Yoongi had touched him like this before, almost exactly like this--late in bed one night with a wordless rhyme keeping his mind awake, passing the time by stroking a line from Jungkook's chin to the soft skin just below his ear. Back and forth, always back and forth. It was one of those rare nights when there was nothing keeping Jungkook from sleeping over, when enough time had elapsed from their last fight to have him look childlike and content in Yoongi's arms, snoring quietly. It was one of those times when everything seemed perfect.

Yoongi can't count how many times he's thought of that night with a bottle in his hand. It wasn't the I love yous he craved the most after Jungkook left. It was everything in between the I love yous.

His fingers find a rhythm in Jungkook's skin once again, stroking and petting until he can feel the slight jump, the warm flush spreading up his neck. Yoongi flicks his gaze up just in time to see the shy beginning of that grin, how it catches on that half laugh half giggle he does that kind of makes Yoongi want to just die because no twenty-one year old should be allowed to be this adorable and get away with it. But Jungkook does. He does every time, because Yoongi's a pathetic man and a sucker for him in just about every way possible--especially when he gets glimpses like this of that bashful, earnest side of him peaking out from all the new found maturity. Yoongi is way too amused hearing Jungkook echo back his own words, and sure, maybe he's practically laughing against his lips and muttering you're cute, but he also sure as hell isn't complaining about the strong arms locking around his waist, keeping him put. There's definitely nothing bashful about that.

It doesn't take long for Yoongi to open him up, tongue slipping inside the taller man and drawing him in even closer. The hand at his neck cradles him now, some kind of leverage for the sudden rush to his system, waking up every single nerve ending in his body. "God, I really missed you." Only the lilt of amusement is huskier now, just a little deeper. "It was kind of depressing."

there have been times within the past four months (almost five) when jungkook wondered about the way that he had gone about things. there have been times where the ache for yoongi to be there with him threatened to overpower him, times when he thought that maybe he should have just let himself give in, should have let everything come rushing back all at once when they first saw each other again the way that so much of him had wanted to. god, he had wanted to. that part of him that still existed then, that still exists now, that never stopped existing. that part of him that craves for everything about yoongi, for every part of him, that wanted to take everything he possibly could and keep it for himself after going so long without. there have been times. times when he felt like maybe he was stupid for not taking advantage of it, for making them wait longer, for dragging it all out more than what was necessary. two years was long enough, wasn't it?

but he doesn't regret it. he doesn't regret anything about it, not even for a moment. there have been times when maybe he did, when maybe he started to, started to even consider it. but the difference is that jungkook is older now. jungkook is more mature, more stable, less likely to act on such a strong impulse and he knows that it's for the better. he knows that even the almost regrets are a thing that came with time, that it's something they both needed in order to make this work, the right way. no rushing in this time. that's where they messed up before, that was their first misstep, when jungkook was seventeen and naive and didn't know how to express himself or do this properly.

this time, he'd like to think that he does. he'd like to think it because of the way that he still feels steady, feels solid in his own right. he feels like he has two feet planted firmly right here, like he knows exactly where he stands even when yoongi's kisses and touches and more than enough to knock him right back down again. but even if he falls, it's different this time. he knows that he's not the only one, has every reassurance right here in the constant, steady drag of yoongi's fingertips across his skin. he doesn't even get the chance to laugh at the way that yoongi calls him cute, or to protest against it like maybe he would have if he wasn't so busy drinking in everything, absolutely everything about his older boyfriend instead.

it's been a long time. it's been a really, really long time since he felt yoongi kiss him like this, that rush transferring between the two of them effortlessly because jungkook really isn't much better off. it's like there's something about yoongi that flips a switch inside of him, something that runs deeper than the surface level, that starts in his chest and fans out, rapidly makes its way across every single part of him. he doesn't miss a single thing, right down to the way that yoongi's voice washes over him and his fingers curl into the worn leather of his jacket as his gaze moves to meet yoongi's, the slightest quirk of one eyebrow. "yeah?" he teases, but he's following suit whether he likes it or not. "just kind of?"

No rushing in. It's exactly right. It's exactly right even now, the two of them barely past the doorway of Jungkook's apartment and already caught up in each other and refusing to let go--which would be comical if it didn't feel so good. Just standing face to face and feeling again, getting used to each others' voices so close like this, remembering how solid the other's presence is all over again. It's so simple, so stripped down. No distractions. It's exactly what Yoongi wants in his life right now--with and without Jungkook.

It took some time to get to that point, of course. He's a workaholic on his better days, an entirely different creature altogether when he's actually creating, working on lyrics that he can only hear in his own head. Music isn't just a huge part of his life. It's been his life. And it always will be. Maybe that's what comforted him the most when he decided to leave it all behind for a while--which really just meant he wiped his schedule clean of gigs, and then got rid of the schedule, and then told his manager to get gone for a while too. He told himself that taking a break wouldn't kill him. He told himself that music wasn't going anywhere, the imagination wasn't going anywhere, his voice wasn't going anywhere. It was just a break. Spend some quality time alone, outside of the noise. Reacquaint himself with sanity for a bit. Maybe even do something crazy like sit down and read a book. Funny thing was, just a break ended up being the best thing he could have done for himself. It led him straight here.

"Mmmm," Yoongi hums in that lazy way that's supposed to be an affirmative answer, that he makes into one regardless. He wiggles himself a little closer to Jungkook's touch, not ashamed of wanting more, and it's that easy to completely forget about packing in the first place. His own fingers start wandering again, settling into the hair at the nape of his boyfriend's neck. The messy mop of hair really isn't that bad, he thinks absentmindedly, stroking again.

"It would have been worse without Cy," he admits with a quirk of his own lips, meeting the tease in Jungkook's eyes. "But it still wasn't pretty. She's probably happy I'm gone right now, honestly."

Edited 2015-11-25 03:49 (UTC)

the funniest part is probably the way that jungkook has imagined this moment at least a thousand times since they've been apart. he's imagined hat it would be like when he would be reunited with yoongi again. he's imagined things that he would be embarrassed to admit to, things like rushed, hard embraces and even harder kisses. he's imagined yoongi all over him a thousand times over, a strange middle ground between what he remembers it feeling like and what he dreams it would come to. because he knows that it would be different, that it will be, without so much negativity clinging onto the spaces in between them. in those strange, half daydreams he imagined so much. imagined himself grabbing on tight, imagined heated breaths and nails dragging across skin, imagined yoongi's deep, lazy voice pressing sinful things against every single part of him.

and yet, that's not what's important right now. there's no rush, no need to push it, no need to force himself into everything that he's been missing for far too long. because they have time. they've spent so long apart, so long waiting and yet they have all the time in the world and, for the first time in a long time, maybe even ever, jungkook knows that. he's satisfied with that, he's alright with that, and it's leaves him with a comfort that only yoongi can bring. a kind of content that settles deep, that sinks all the way down into his bones and fills him up, doesn't stop until he's threatening to overflow and god, why did he ever think that he could live without this?

it's laughable, really. anything about jeon jungkook existing without min yoongi in his life somehow is laughable, but he doesn't have to worry about that now. he never has to worry about that again, hopefully, because it's easy to settle into the way that yoongi touches him, the repetitive motions of his fingertips that offer a familiar comfort that he's more than happy to sink into. honestly, it's easy to stop worrying about the mess that his hair has become when yoongi is touching it like that.

"cy..." he breathes out the name a little, his tone fond and does his best to play it off like it has nothing to do with all of the things that yoongi is making him feel all over again. "she'll be happy to see me again .. bet she misses her favorite person." the words are barely out before he can't take it anymore, leaning forward to claim yoongi's lips again, that impatience starting to crawl along his nerves.

Yeah right, Yoongi thinks. Thinks because talking is suddenly impossible with the way Jungkook's pulling him in all over again, silencing everything else in his path. It's a good thing Yoongi doesn't care about getting the last word, that all he really cares about is keeping this pace up, because there's certainly nothing sweet about the way Jungkook is kissing him right now. This isn't the same soft welcome from ten minutes ago--this feels like months of pent-up restlessness, heat and agitation and desire with even deeper roots that have always twisted alongside Yoongi’s, parting only to meet again. He can’t comprehend how far it all runs down. He doesn’t know, but he can feel it. He doesn’t want to stop feeling it. He doesn’t want to stop even for a second.

Just like that Cypher joins packing on the rapidly growing list of things Yoongi can’t care to think about anymore. Which in all fairness, is probably exactly what she’d want. She’d quickly tired of all his moping around, the slow, distracted way in which he’d fix her dinner after a particularly long Skype chat with the younger boy, the sudden neediness of her owner that was never there before. It was pathetic behavior, and they both knew it. He was used to wanting Jungkook on his own, faithfully, silently, with the knowledge that his feelings would never be returned again--but this kind of wanting while knowing better was far worse. It drove him mad.

It still does. Jungkook is flesh and blood in front of him, opening up to him so quickly it makes Yoongi’s blood boil in a way he hasn’t felt since before, in a way he’s never felt with anyone else but him. With a firm grip in Jungkook’s hair he pushes forward, guiding his body out of instinct until he has the younger man pressed flat against the living room wall. There’s little breathing room with all the fucking boxes everywhere, but the kiss is turning too hard to pay attention to that, Yoongi hungrily pressing into his frame and biting at his bottom lip. Feeling the sensitive flesh between his teeth gets his head spinning in the best way possible, his other hand hanging low on Jungkook’s hips, giving them both some leverage. Space, though, is wonderfully non-existent--and it’s the first time in too many months to count that he’s actually felt Jungkook’s body flush against his own.

it's not like jungkook necessarily means for it to happen, because he doesn't. he doesn't mean to cut yoongi off, to cut their warm welcome short, doesn't mean to press forward with all the heat and longing and pent up everything that he isn't sure what else to do with. he doesn't mean to, but it just happens. it's on instinct, exactly the kind of thing that yoongi brings out of him. but that's what makes everything about them work. that's what has them fitting together so perfectly even after all this time and space, that's why this time is different, because jungkook doesn't even know how to put up walls around himself anymore. not when yoongi is here, not when he's right here and everything, absolutely everything about him is spilling into jungkook's senses until he's likely to drown because it's too much.

but it's still not enough. he'd gladly drown it in, would let himself sink under and drown in everything that's min yoongi and even then it wouldn't be enough. it's likely that it will never be enough, will never be nearly enough to satisfy him, to satisfy that deep seated need for more of the older man that he can't seem to shake. he's never been able to, no matter how much he wanted to, not even for a second. but that doesn't mean that yoongi can't try to satisfy him. it doesn't mean that he doesn't want him to, because god, he does. it's been so long, too long, and he's stuck between wondering why in the hell he waited so long to do this again and thinking that he wouldn't go back and do it any other way. but then, yoongi is starting to do that thing where he makes it impossible to think about anything at all.

it's like a talent that he has. one that jungkook appreciates, one that comes down to nothing but rendering him completely and entirely useless. it starts with the way that he moves, with the way that yoongi presses him into the wall and jungkook can feel it, can feel the heat spike up deep inside of him, spreading out through his veins, consuming him all over again. yoongi is kissing him hard and biting at his lip and it makes him groan softly, a sound caught somewhere deep in his throat as his hands slip down, lower just so that they can find their way under the material of yoongi's jacket. instead they slide up over the fabric of the shirt he's wearing underneath, grab onto the fabric and dig in hard like he's trying to pull him closer, keep him here, like he could possibly convey just how much he wants with a touch as simple as that. but maybe it gets the point across with the way that he kisses him back just as hard, letting everything start to spill over now that it's clear yoongi wants just as much.

Yoongi considers himself skilled in a select few things in this world. Jungkook's always been the one with so much promise, so much potential, naturally talented in nearly everything he set his mind to--with the work ethic to back it up as well. Yoongi doesn't even believe he's necessarily talented when it comes to their relationship. He made mistakes. He was selfish. He isolated Jungkook when he needed him the most. He forced the boy to leave. He did so much that was so wrong, so damaging. Sometimes it felt like the only things he got right were times like this, when he could shut away the loneliness with slow, lingering touches and white hot kisses, when he could take Jungkook in his arms and pull him onto another plane of reality, a better one. He only wanted him to feel the most incredible things. He wanted to give him so much--even when it never felt like enough.

With all the changes they've gone through together, that's one thing that's been a constant. Yoongi has never stopped wanting to give to Jungkook. He wants to give him more, always more, because Jungkook deserves so much, he deserves every tiny little happiness and far-reaching joy that exists on earth. Yoongi wants every breathless, blissed out moment to be Jungkook's, to be his exclusively, and he wants to be the one who can satisfy him--and do it right this time around. It means everything to him. The emotion racing through him only makes hearing Jungkook's barely there groan about twenty times better. God, he had only had his memory as reference for so long. He had nearly forgotten what Jungkook could sound like when he was worked up like this, what that voice could do to him. And for a brief moment, Yoongi's the one with the breath knocked from his lungs.

Even if those blunt nails weren't currently twisting in the fabric of his shirt, forcing him closer, Yoongi would have had no reason to leave--though it sure as hell doesn't hurt either. There's familiarity in the roughness, the drag of their tongues against each other, like remembering all the lyrics to an old song you forgot you knew. Yoongi plays it a bit longer, breath growing ragged as he pulls away only to come back once again. His mouth trails down Jungkook's sharp jawline, further down, every open-mouthed kiss pressed to his skin slower, more heated than the last. It's almost reverent, the way he works his skin, sucking the spots on his neck he knows will feel it the most. All the while his fingers massage through Jungkook's hair, tugging just enough to keep the younger man in the right position under him. Just enough to feed the fire.

yoongi has always been like a drug to jungkook, ever since the first moment they met. it's something that he doesn't understand, some mystery he could never hope to figure out but all he knows is that it's here, that this is just as intense as it ever was. because the truth of the matter is, it's unreal. it doesn't make any sense. it never has, it never did, even then. then when he was so mad sometimes he couldn't even see straight, when he couldn't make his tongue cooperate enough to get out the words to explain what he was thinking. he should have tried harder. it wasn't all yoongi's fault, and he knows that now. he's known that for a long time. but even then, just like now, there was something about the way that yoongi got to him like this. like the right touches could silence everything, could make it better, could make everything better.

jungkook feels like an addict. he feels like an addict who's getting a hit after so long, too long, and god, it's good. it's even better than he remembered, just having yoongi pressed close to him like this, the familiar smell of his soap and shampoo and all of the things that are so distinctly yoongi swirling around in his head, coating his tongue and his throat and his insides and that's all that he wants, the only thing he could ask for. more of this. more of everything. he doesn't want it to stop. he never did. he needs this to keep going right now, doesn't want any more waiting or hesitation, no more distance or space put between them to make sure they're doing the right thing because nothing has ever felt as right as yoongi's breath against his skin does right now.

he can't get there with words but then again, they don't necessarily need that sort of thing. yoongi knows him, yoongi hears him, and jungkook knows that. he knows that he will as long as he lets him, and there's no reason not to. the way that they slot together is every bit as good as it was years ago, even though jungkook has grown taller, even though there's been more than enough time for yoongi to forget. he hasn't. his mouth still works jungkook into a kind of daze he had almost forgotten existed, muscle memory or something else entirely guiding him to all the right spots that haven't forgotten how to feel the way that yoongi makes him fall apart. he's glad for the wall behind him, glad for the way that it steadies him, that he can lean his weight against it instead of having to try and make sure he's stable. he'd rather focus on this, on the slow want that drips through him, the way that his own fingers slip down yoongi's back, along his sides, stomach, anywhere he can make them reach just to feel him again. "yoongi..." his voice is breathy, low and starting to go husky around the edges. the name slips out before he can think about it, before he can try to get it back, like maybe it will convey just how much he needs.

Yoongi had thought all the traveling was a blur--but it's nothing compared to this. It's child's play compared to having Jungkook like this. Every second stretches and rushes at the same time, everything narrowing down to the two of them, just the two of them against the wall in Jungkook's apartment and suddenly it seems incredible they didn't do this right from the moment Yoongi first stood on his doorstep. His boyfriend has been untouched for nearly five months. Who the hell was he kidding? They were like magnets, always coming back to each other, always coming back for more, and this time, he can't find any good reason not to just let it happen.

It feels too good not to just let it happen. Jungkook's hands on him feel too good, stronger, more sure of themselves as they touch absolutely everywhere. He only seems more impatient now, his fingers leaving behind a trail of heat that burrows down deep inside Yoongi and suddenly makes the leather jacket unbearable. If only taking it off didn't mean pulling away from Jungkook, because there's no chance of that happening. He's too focused on mouthing along that soft, gorgeous neck of his, sinking his teeth in every last bit of the younger man because god it's been too long. When his name falls from Jungkook's lips it hits him like a fucking freight train, stirring up about a thousand different memories and something else entirely present, that's very much happening right fucking now. This kid. This kid is going to be the death of him. He didn't even know he was capable of getting hard this fast. Or maybe he forgot. Or maybe it's all just becoming that much more real.

"Fuck," he pushes gruffly against Jungkook's throat, the word coming out more like a growl than an actual laugh, the amusement only lingering for so long. More skin now, so much more under his fingertips as Yoongi easily slips underneath the baggy white T-shirt and grips at Jungkook's waist. He's not the only one who's burning up.

"I promise this isn't the reason why I came back." Yoongi can't get enough of the taste of him, soothing a second bruise as he dips a finger along the small of Jungkook's back. He wants to taste there too. He wants to see if Jungkook will still arch for him, keen in his pretty voice the way he did when he was seventeen.

"...not the only reason."

it's weird, how time stops making even an attempt at logical sense the second that he's with yoongi again. even with yoongi's hands and mouth all over him, even though it's been months since he's had anything and they haven't been doing this for anywhere near long enough, it feels like it's been forever. it feels like yoongi's been doing this forever, like no time passed at all with the way he seems to remember every single little thing about jungkook's body and yet it's like they just started, like he's barely touched him at all with the way that the impatience is sparking dangerously, growing into something that isn't going to be able to linger nicely under the surface for much longer.

he knows from experience, knows that yoongi likes to take his time. he also knows how much he always likes yoongi taking his time. but it's hard, hard to convince his body of that when it's already so reactive underneath yoongi's touch, when suddenly he's more than aware of just how long it's been since he's had this, since he's had anything close to it. that need is only growing stronger, more insistent, the flush of arousal already making its way down his neck and burning through him and he's hard, too. there's no point in trying to hide it, no shame in how fast and how completely yoongi gets to him.

he wants nothing more than to fall into this entirely. he wants to fall into every single touch yoongi gives him, into the trails his mouth will leave over his skin, the lingering bruises that will purple and stick around to make sure he remembers this, as if there's any chance that he would forget. he wants to remember what it's like, he wants he wants he wants, always wants so fucking much when it comes to min yoongi. and the heat is only rising, climbing its way up his spine with the way that yoongi's fingers feel against his sweat-slicked skin, the lazy, low drawl of words that he can barely be bothered to fully comprehend right now.

the last thing he wants to be right now is self aware. the last thing he wants is for yoongi's touch against his bare skin to bring it back to the forefront of his mind, just how disgusting said skin is. just how disgusting he feels, after practically soaking himself in a mixture of sweat and cleaning products all day long. or at least, that's what it feels like to him. and once that feeling settles in he can't stop the way it's crawling through his nerves unpleasantly, because the last thing he wants is the first time he's pressed against yoongi, the first time he has yoongi's mouth and his everything on him in months, in years, is for him to be disgusting.

"wait." it comes out breathless, a little forced as his touch trails up, rests on yoongi's shoulders like maybe he's trying to ground himself, but not quite pushing him away.

"just ... fuck." he needs to think straight, at least for a couple more seconds before he gives himself over to it entirely.

"i want you so fucking bad. i just... i feel disgusting, i can smell the bleach on myself, i don't want .. just ... let me take a shower first. five minutes, tops."

Yoongi's always liked taking his time with Jungkook, stretching out every single sensation along the other's body, making sure the boy felt it down to his bones, every graze, every kiss, every touch. Rushing never made Jungkook's breath hitch the way it did when Yoongi was slow, deftly pulling him apart. It never made him come undone the way it did when they had hours to themselves, hours of nothing else but each other--which is exactly what they have right now. Yoongi's here for an entire week, and Jungkook, being the person he is, has already done the week's work himself. The possibilities--the fact that there's more than just now, tonight--keep Yoongi's mind reeling, which was already pretty fucked over already at the feeling of being hard again. Someone getting him hard. Jungkook getting him hard. Jungkook in front of him getting him hard.

It's not like this has exactly been a common thing lately. He's pretty sure the last time he got off was to a selca Jungkook sent him a couple weeks ago, the boy looking equal parts ridiculous and far too attractive for his own good as he flashed a V, leaving Yoongi shuddering under his covers like some fucking middle school boy with his first crush. It was worse before that, though. The one and only time Yoongi hooked up with someone after Jungkook left involved sloppy kisses and an even sloppier handjob that just made Yoongi want to crawl into a hole and never come back out because what was the point. It wasn't Jungkook. It wasn't even a good way to pass the time, and Yoongi had to politely back out half-way in because not getting off at all was somehow a hundred times better than getting off like that. So yeah. It's been a while.

His thoughts jumble and scramble back into place when he feels the hands on his shoulder, however, the firmness of Jungkook's grip somehow different than before. All it takes is for the simple word wait for Yoongi to immediately pull back, gaze catching on the younger's expression expectantly, almost worriedly. There's a guilty little tug in the back of his mind, forcing itself through the haze of heat, reminding him that this is still very much new. Familiar, certainly wanted, but still new. Jungkook might not be ready for this again yet. And that's okay.

Only--that's not what he's saying at all. What he's actually saying is a stuttering mess and a wave of relief and a jolt to his heart all at once. He wants Yoongi. He wants to keep going. But Jungkook, being the person he is, apparently isn't done being anal retentive yet.

Yoongi laughs for real this time, low and deep in his chest as he puts a little more space between them, giving the kid a break. His eyes flash between affection and lust as he takes in one more touch of his hip before dutifully pulling that away as well. Seeing Jungkook like this, leaning against the wall, just starting to get wrecked, is absolutely everything. Yoongi can't look away.

"Take your time," he simply drawls, knowing full well Jungkook won't.

Edited 2015-12-01 04:48 (UTC)

it's not like they haven't been here before. and not just this, not just the proximity, the touches, the way that yoongi touches him and burns him up from the inside out. it's also the part that comes when jungkook tells him to wait, that split second of silence, the way that their eyes lock and jungkook can see it, that slight twinge of something worried in yoongi's expression. and he knows what he must be thinking. of course he does, because they've been here before. the last time yoongi came to busan, when they laid everything out on the table, when jungkook thought he wanted this rush of heat and everything else but it proved to be too much.

it was different, then. it was still too much. he's had time to process now, time to think, time to get used to the idea of being with yoongi again. he's ad all of that and a whole hell of a lot more, considering the fact that he's moving halfway across the word just to be with him again in a matter of days now. it's a lot of things. it's too many things. but it's not overwhelming. not like that, not this time. it's an entirely different kind of overwhelming, but under all of that, he's still jeon jungkook. he's still jeon jungkook and this is still min yoongi and maybe it's that knowledge on top of everything else that means he can still do this, can still even think clearly enough to think somewhat rationally right now.

because it's the same thing that's running through yoongi's mind right now, whether he knows that or not. it's the fact that yoongi's here, that when he leaves, they'll be leaving together. they have time. after so long spent waiting, they have time.

but that doesn't mean that jungkook is going to waste it.

it's hard to pull himself away from any of it. it might be one of the hardest things that jungkook has ever done, especially when yoongi is looking at him like that but fuck. he knows that the sooner he gets it over with the sooner he can come back to this, and that's what he has to focus on. so he does, with a breathless nod and resisting the urge to press one more kiss to yoongi's lips before he pushes himself off the wall because if he starts again he knows that he won't be able to stop.

it doesn't take five minutes. it's more like ten by the time he's done with the rushed but thorough scrub over his entire body, satisfied enough with the way that at least that lingering feeling is gone, along with the lingering scent of bleach. he doesn't so much care about the way that he's dripping slightly on the floor as he makes his way out of the bathroom, really doesn't care about how his hair is nowhere near dry, probably sticking up at a strange angle in at least one place.

none of it matters as much as getting back to where yoongi is, getting back to where they left off as quickly as possible. that heat hasn't calmed in the slightest, his skin still crawling, wanting to get back to remembering how it feels to have yoongi attached to it, because the bruises that are already starting to purple along his neck are nowhere near enough. he finds him exactly where he expects him to be, sprawled out over his bed, and, really, it's the best place for yoongi to be right now. so he makes his way over, a towel haphazardly tied around his waist because why waste the time and energy in getting dressed again?

by the time he's anywhere near as close to yoongi again as he wants to be he's just a little breathless, this time from all of his rushing around, crawling onto the bed next to him with a meaningful look.

"hey."

Yoongi falls back against the bed and closes his eyes. Breathing in, breathing out, listening to the run of the shower and imagining the boy inside. How often he imagines Jungkook, draws him up in his mind with as much nuance as he can muster so he can feel him by his side, even just a little bit, even if it's just an aftertaste. He's so used to not having the real thing. He's so used to tricking himself into thinking that Jungkook's there with him--that he'll see his smile again, hear his voice, feel the push and pull of his fingers just one more time. One more time, a dozen more times. Maybe holding onto Jungkook after all these years was crazy. Maybe the way he wanted him, him solely, him only, made him a fool. Yoongi doesn't mind. If he had to do it all over again, he'd still be a fool.

There's so much he said the last time he was here in Busan, so many things he never ever dreamed Jungkook would actually hear. Promises, regrets, confessions, every last shred of himself cut open and there for Jungkook to do with as he pleased. He wants to say more, because there's so much more to say. He wants to pull Jungkook down with him and whisper things in his ear he's never told anyone before, and when Yoongi turns his head into the mattress it's like he's wrapped up completely. Everything about this bed, from the crisp folds to the muted color, is Jungkook, and he kind of wants to melt into it.

The footsteps make him peer back up, flopping his phone absent-mindedly to the side. If anything feels like a dream, it's this. Jungkook's wet everywhere, and he drags it with him, muscles shifting underneath his skin with the tiniest of movements, water clinging to every little nook and cranny of his body. His very not seventeen anymore body. Yoongi stares without blinking, raking over this grown up Jeon Jungkook as if he'll never have the chance again, feeling the heat roll through him pleasantly, dangerously once more.

He kind of wants to melt into that more. A lot more.

"Hey." Yoongi slowly props himself up on his elbows, blond hair disheveled and shirt dipping at his collarbones. His jacket is somewhere safe, in the living room, far, far away from how bad the two of them are going to get. He can practically taste it in the air between them as Jungkook unabashedly pushes himself forward, crawling on his hands and knees. And Yoongi's still staring.

"You smell really good," he murmurs when Jungkook gets close enough for him to appreciate, nosing against the side of his neck not yet littered in marks. He gives a couple deep breaths. "Cherry?"

jungkook doesn't know exactly what it is that he expects. maybe for yoongi to move forward just as quickly, to attach himself to him, to press him down into the bed just like he had him pushed up against the wall only a matter of minutes ago. he knows that that's what he wants. he knows exactly what he wants, which is more of this, more of yoongi, more of everything. but he also knows better than that. he knows yoongi better than that. but that doesn't do anything more to calm the impatience that's crawling to the surface faster, stronger this time.

maybe it's because he knows that there's no pausing this time, no stop and go, no leaving to take care of something and come back after the fact. maybe it's a product of seeing yoongi like this, all stretched out and propped up on his bed, the collar of his shirt slipping low enough to reveal a teasing stretch of skin that he hasn't seen in too long. or maybe it's the way that yoongi's eyes trail over him, the heat that he can feel in his gaze, the way that it sends a pleasant thrill of arousal all the way back down his spine.

he doesn't know exactly what it is that he expects, but jungkook knows that he isn't satisfied with what he gets. he isn't satisfied with the slow way that yoongi moves, with the barely-there touch against the side of his neck when what he needs is so much more. nevermind the fact that his body is already on high alert all over again just because of the proximity, but that's beside the point. he needs to be even closer. needs a lot of things, so he isn't shy or shameless at all in crawling even closer, close enough to be practically straddling him. still on his hands and knees.

"better than sweat and bleach, yeah?" the words are more of a murmured half tease than anything else, a slight shiver running through jungkook before he pulls back, just enough to lean in and kiss yoongi all over again. always impatient, at least until he's left at yoongi's mercy.

It's not as if Yoongi doesn't want to do all those things to Jungkook. Of course he wants to. And he will. He just likes taking one thing at a time, he likes burning this image to memory before he completely loses himself in the moment, and maybe he likes feeling the twinge of Jungkook's impatience more than he lets on. It's intoxicating, the way Jungkook demands and wants and expects only to fall apart in his arms, in every single touch he presses into him. He doesn't remember the last time they've been like this, not really, not when so much time has passed, but he's never forgotten what it felt like. Fuck, it was impossible to forget. Jungkook's been seared into him, would be forever as far as Yoongi's concerned.

Chuckling lowly into the kiss, Yoongi readily lets himself be pulled under, lets Jungkook's mouth drive off those remaining coherent thoughts--or as coherent as they could be after seeing his boyfriend hover over him in nothing more than a towel. There's nothing shy at all about it, absolutely no doubt about what it is that Jungkook wants. And when their hips barely brush, Jungkook shifting perfectly and maddeningly out of reach above him, the sound roughly drops down his throat. Everything rushes south, and he's pulling Jungkook down for the ride, hand firm on the younger man's back as he forces the full weight of him down, seating him on his lap. No more half-ass straddling, they've waited long enough.

It happens just like it did ten minutes ago. Only now there's water clinging to Jungkook's skin and he's fresh, bare, completely vulnerable now to the way Yoongi's fingers slide up and down the full length of his back, the way they lower, lower, dip underneath the precarious towel. He doesn't take it off, but he also doesn't let it get in the way of stroking at the baby soft skin at the base of his spine, teasing. Already smoothing up Jungkook's thigh with his other hand, unable to resist how nice they look, how nice they feel around his waist and fuck Jungkook just gives underneath his fingertips. He always gives for Yoongi. Always so good.

So much better something inside him hums, and it has nothing to do with fruit or cleaning products whatsoever.

Edited 2015-12-03 03:49 (UTC)

it's funny, because jungkook isn't a submissive person. he never has been, has never had the kind of personality that could bend easily to the will of someone else. he's the kind that's strong minded, has a will of his own, something that doesn't budge once he sets his mind to something or another. and he's not the type to look submissive, either. not now, not after the last four years have passed, not since he realized that lifting weights was a nice way to burn off all of the excess tension that never quite seemed to go away.

he's not a submissive person, but with yoongi, it just happens. with yoongi, it just gives. there's something in him that can't seeem to fight it, almost like maybe there's a part of him that craves for it. a part of him that craves to be taken advantage of, that wants to let yoongi do whatever he wants and more. it was easy when he was seventeen, when he was so vulnerable and small but the fact of the matter is that it's just as easy now. maybe things about him have changed but not the parts that are important. the way that it feels didn't change, like his body remembers everything about this even if his mind hasn't clung onto all of the details quite as sharply as it used to.

the sudden jolt of their bodies pressed together again is enough to force out another soft groan, one that falls between them as yoongi's fingers start to wander. they feel every bit as good as they did ten minutes ago, as they did four years ago, and he can already feel the way that his body practically melts into it. like he's letting yoongi mold him into whatever he wants him to be, like he's subconsciously making sure yoongi knows just how little has changed when it comes to this.

the touches aren't enough. they aren't enough and yet they're absolutely perfect, pulling another soft shiver through him as he bites and tugs at yoongi's lower lip this time. he can't help himself, just like the way he can't help that his own hands are just as eager to touch, slipping under the loose material of yoongi's shirt to slide over his skin instead, like he wants to touch as much of him as possible. and he does. he can't get enough of touching yoongi, wants to keep touching yoongi forever if he has a say in it because fuck, suddenly it's hard to believe just how he managed to survive for so long without this.

It's incredible, the way his fingers catch on muscles that didn't exist four years ago, the way they smooth along planes of his skin that have sharpened, tightened over the years. All that childlike softness is gone, the innocence that Yoongi mapped out over the length of his body all that time ago. The innocence he tasted and sheltered and claimed because it stirred something in him he had never felt with any other lover. It made him feel grounded. Safe. Made him lose his mind with pleasure because Jungkook got lost so easily, could touch out so quickly underneath him it was impossible not to give it to him again, and again, and again. No other man or woman did what he did to Yoongi--and he never even had the slightest idea.

Incredible, the way Jungkook's body is so different and yet absolutely the same. Even as Yoongi traces new patterns, thoroughly exploring every last little change, the way Jungkook softens against him feels like coming home. Those sounds feel like coming home. And those hands. Yoongi swears he's never felt anything as fucking perfect as Jungkook greedily pushing beneath his shirt and roughing up his skin in his own enthusiasm. It's been an eternity. It's been so damn long, and Yoongi can't take it. Nothing but rasped breaths as Jungkook tugs at his lip, melting into him, and yeah. Not much has really changed at all. Thank god.

Yoongi doesn't know how long they go, scrambling to make up for four year's worth of absent kisses, lost in that blissed way that only really makes sense like this. But he does know when the friction between them starts to make Jungkook's shivers feel more like trembling beneath his fingertips. He knows the slow burn of the younger man's hips grinding against his own, he knows the impatience of his touches, and it's all too easy to move them once again. Yoongi doesn't stop kissing him as he lays Jungkook down, slowly pushing his back against the mattress. It doesn't take any effort to open him up, Yoongi settling between his legs and guiding a hand low on his stomach, thumbing soothing little circles just above the towel. He's so hot underneath his palm. He's so hot, and Yoongi could, he's been dying to, but not yet. He wants to make Jungkook remember, too. He wants to feel him remember.

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