It's been this way ever since they first got together years ago. It's the norm, hearing Jungkook's breathing stutter over a few well-aimed strokes, the way his entire body seems to shudder in anticipation with the slightest touch, how even the impossibly slow drag of Jungkook against his thigh has him spilling out a noise Yoongi can build entire wet dreams around. Of course there isn't shit to be embarrassed or teased about. This is just what they do. In fact, Yoongi would be concerned if his husband wasn't already half-hard by now. Which is why he gives the younger another appreciative smack, though this time it lands on Jungkook's own thigh, straddling him all tight and strong and Yoongi just wants to shove away the sweatpants and sink his teeth into him. All of him. But there'll be time for that in a while.

And as fun as it can be to make Jungkook cum just like this on the couch, frustrated and rigid with the pressure to hold himself steady, his plans for tonight do actually require some space. Satisfied with the last, darkening bruise he's left against the man above him, Yoongi finally gives Jungkook some space, pulling away with a lingering gaze. "Let's," he nods, helping the younger to scramble off of him so he can get up himself, wasting no time in drawing Jungkook in again the moment they're standing. More heated this time, Yoongi clutching onto Jungkook's bare bicep as he shuffles them back to the bedroom. They've done this dance a hundred times, and Yoongi happens to think they're experts on it by now, stubbornly refusing to let go of each other as they sidestep any potential falling disaster. No one can say they're not skilled at this.