kkaeppsong | [yoongi/jungkook] ; breathless

[yoongi/jungkook] ; breathless

It’s all finished, every last thing. The dishes. Laundry. Trash. Pet food. Groceries. Yoongi’s spent the last hour on his hands and knees scrubbing away at every corner of their shared bathroom, and before that he was organizing countless T-shirts, putting away clothing exactly where it belonged in their closet. He didn’t dare cut any corners, because Jungkook would notice, and god forbid he leave them in the hamper for more than a minute. Wrinkles are high on Jungkook’s list of domestic annoyances, and while Yoongi’s believes he’ll never truly master the art of folding, his fingers just never getting the lines crisp enough, the work is passable. At least he can say the kid didn’t have to help him with anything this time around.

Because right now, Yoongi’s home alone--and has been for the last eight hours. After he kissed Sejin off to school and Jungkook off to the office earlier that morning, Yoongi ignored the familiar pull to go back to bed and fully bask in his day off. Instead, he decided to get to work. House work, that is. And he hasn’t stopped since this morning, driving himself to complete every last chore on Jungkook’s weekend to-do list as efficiently and thoroughly as possible. Hell, he even went online and ordered Jungkook a new Proactiv+ Complete Kit, giving himself a solid ten minutes to sit down.

This is love, Yoongi muses to himself as he types in his credit card information to buy his husband his favorite acne treatment, absentmindedly playing footsie with a dozing Stark. He’s glad someone is taking advantage of a relaxing Friday. In all honesty, though, it’s worth it.

It’s always worth it when it comes to Jungkook, but right now there’s a different sort of fire spurring Yoongi on, giving him the energy to go from one task to the next. Ever since they finished relationship counseling a few weeks ago, Yoongi’s felt something inside him ache and give way underneath the weight of all Jungkook’s unspoken words, all the lingering thoughts and frustrations and desires he had never before voiced until then. They had both agreed that Jungkook needed to be more open, more honest, but Yoongi also needed to listen. He had to pay attention and refocus some energy away from the kid. He had to be there for Jungkook unconditionally, whether the younger reached out for his hand or not--because Yoongi loves him far, far too much to let him slip away, to give him any reason to feel unwanted or unappreciated.

It’s nearly six when Yoongi collapses on the couch post-shower, their apartment picture perfect with everything finished. Jungkook should be home any minute now, and Yoongi gives himself a tired, congratulatory pat--which, naturally, catches Cy’s attention from the windowsill, the black cat jumping up to curl on his chest instead.

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Yoongi knows it's a thing, him being in charge. A pretty serious thing. Even without his husband explicitly talking about it, it was obvious right from the get go that for all of Jungkook's neuroses and decision-making and leading in real life, the last thing he wanted to be in the bedroom was that same strong force. Not that Yoongi ever minded--exactly the opposite, actually. Being dominant over Jungkook came naturally, even easier than it had with any of his past partners, and it lit something in him that hasn't even come close to burning out. Not with a kid, not with marriage, not with the daily, exhausting rhythm of parenting. If there's one thing that's a constant, it's Yoongi fucking him into next week and taking no prisoners, awed every single time by the way Jungkook just lets it happen. Just takes it.

The thing is, Yoongi never knew just how much of a thing it really was until very recently. And after that conversation, Yoongi had spent the better part of his time alone doing research, visiting enough adult websites and kink blogs to make even him squirm in his seat, thighs pressed tight. He just needed to know how to do it properly. Needed to see it. Needed to understand on a purely objective level aside from the one or two times he's fooled around with other people, because even just thinking about doing this to Jungkook, his Jungkook, sparks a dangerous heat in his system--and if he's completely honest, a bit of worry too.

The last thing he wants is to hurt Jungkook, to push too far. Of course, they had talked enough to lay some ground rules, establish safe words and taps, but talking is a far cry from actually doing. What if Jungkook doesn't like it as much as he thought he would? What if he's disappointed in him? Yoongi isn't used to having concerns like this when it comes to sex, but then, he's never wanted to fulfill Jungkook's desires as badly as he does right now. The only thing he can do, though, is exactly what Jungkook does: trust. And continue fucking him the way he's so desperate for.

Yoongi's own groan comes rasped, deep as Jungkook tightens pleasurably around him, the thrust good enough to have the younger man raking over his body mindlessly, expression like he's fucking seen heaven. The amusement from before is completely gone, replaced by something much darker as Jungkook continues to babble for more, looking so damn good. Without even telling them to, Yoongi's fingers crawl higher up his neck, cradling the side of him as his thumb searches the fleshy part of his skin just underneath his jawbone. He feels hot to the touch, flushed, all rabbit pulse. It makes Yoongi continue the deep, hard thrusts that force Jungkook down into the mattress, the only place he's allowed to go underneath his hold.

"That's it, baby," he breathes, thumb pressing down a little harder, testing the water. "Look at how well you take me."

the funny thing is, jungkook doesn't mind taking control every so often. he doesn't mind the nights when he decides to surprise yoongi for a change, when he wants to switch it up every now and again, just enough to put the focus on his husband, because jungkook is a lot of things, but he definitely isn't a selfish lover. he's always been into giving back just as much as he receives and then some, but even so, it just comes so easily, falling into being submissive to yoongi. it feels right, natural in a way that he can't explain, and part of the reason why jungkook loves it so much is because of how obvious it is that yoongi is right there with him, that yoongi loves it just the same. it's just good, easy, and why fix something when it isn't broken, right?

but that doesn't mean that jungkook is opposed to trying new things. he's been up for nearly everything that yoongi has suggested over the years, any and every strange new attraction that his husband was taken by one moment or another. it's almost impressive that he hasn't come up with much of his own by now, given how meticulous he is in every single other aspect of their lives. but then, maybe that has more to do with it than he realized, maybe it all comes back to that preference he has to letting yoongi take the reigns, call the shots more often than not. jungkook has slowly started to realize more and more that the whole thing likely runs a whole lot deeper than either of them initially would have thought, but it doesn't mean that he's unsatisfied. he's just as ready and willing to have yoongi fuck him all weekend in all of the ways that are familiar, safe, as anything else. anything with his husband is good, phenomenal, even, and jungkook would be satisfied even if their conversation from before stayed just at that - a conversation - just for the sake of having gotten it off his chest, out in the open between them, the weight of everything else so much heavier, so much more important than any sexual curiosities he might have.

of course, his husband isn't the type to let anything slip through the cracks. jungkook should know that by now, really, after being married to him for a while now, together even longer. anything and everything that he says, yoongi takes to heart, and it's just one of the many things that he finds endearing, that he loves so unconditionally about the older man. and of course it would come into play here as well, even though jungkook is none the wiser at first, lost in the perfect, perfect way that yoongi fucks him and how good it sounds when his husband groans like that, when his voice gets even deeper and jungkook knows, he just knows how good it is for him, too.

the rest of it is what starts to tip jungkook off, the way yoongi's fingers continue to linger around his neck, the way that it spikes his pulse before he's even really aware of it. that's subconscious, and nothing compared to the feeling that comes with yoongi's thumb pressing in harder, the sharp heat that it sparks along his nerves, the way that it's slowly starting to sink in alongside yoongi's words, just what he's starting to do. jungkook thinks that he's starting to catch onto just what yoongi is testing out, and honestly, what else could it be? even the thought alone of yoongi remembering, of yoongi pulling this out for him is enough to multiply jungkook's arousal at least twice over, but combined with everything else he'd swear that he's already starting to feel a little dizzy from it. his eyes open, just so that his gaze can lock onto yoongi, getting darker and darker by the second, voice and breath both catching together on a simple groan of "fuck, more."

Jungkook's pulse isn't the only one to jump at the touch, but the feel of it racing underneath his fingertips, vulnerable, laid open for him, is a kind of power Yoongi's never known before--with anyone. For all of his own odd Jungkook kinks born out of the most mundane circumstances, Yoongi had never been one to explore outside of the box before, and he certainly wouldn't have thought that seriously about breath play with any of his other partners. It was all shits and giggles before, clumsy touches and raging hormones. Just flirting with the line without actually crossing over it. With Jungkook, Yoongi's pretty much demolished any sense of shame, the two knocking down new boundaries with every year they grow closer, but even so--despite all of that--this feels different. It's a new experience, of course, but it's more than that.

More, like the way Jungkook seems to come to life all over again underneath him, Yoongi watching as the gears slowly click together, practically seeing the exact moment when the younger man realizes just what's happening. And it's so fucking good to finally be able to share it with Jungkook, to release his own small secret he's been holding onto over the past several days, everything now out in the open. Jungkook's gaze is all he can focus on, glassy-eyed and knowing at the same time, and there's something so raw about how his husband looks at him just then, how fucked out and ready and satisfied he is just from the first, tentative press against his throat, that it has Yoongi starting to understand too. Yeah, it does feel different. Because it is.

And he sure as hell isn't going to stop.

Those quiet worries and lingering uncertainties about how he'll do melt away almost instantaneously at Jungkook's groan. More. Always more. Yoongi never once pauses in his thrusts, continuing to ravage his body nice and hard and deep, as he lifts a hand from Jungkook's shoulder to the pillow, anchoring himself. He clenches the fabric hard between his fingers, and he god, wants to go faster already, wants to pound into Jungkook until he's screaming--but he can't very well scream with a hand around his throat, can he? Pleasure shudders through Yoongi, a twisted, unexpected thing as his thumb makes a greater indent into Jungkook's skin, pressing into something underneath the surface. He's already looking more flushed than before, his neck a mess of hickeys and the light sheen of sweat, and it makes some amount of sense that Yoongi would continue to decide just what to with that part of him. What to do with all of him, this wired body that's at his total mercy.

"You think you can handle more?" It isn't sweet. It's the same dark curiosity that makes him wonder just how this will make Jungkook feel, how he'll react, the same dark taunt in his eyes as he hovers over him.

Edited 2017-03-03 05:08 (UTC)

jungkook doesn't even know how many times he's had sex with yoongi now, has no way to calculate it, to add up how much it has to have come to now over all of these years. he doesn't know how many times they've tried something new, changed it up in the bedroom, how many times they've gotten experimental just for the hell of it. there's no way to keep track of it all, of all of the strange, mundane things that have spiked his husband's interest, of the way that jungkook always gives in, always indulges him because the truth is that jungkok is just as weak to the older man, that the way that yoongi gets because of him is more than enough all on its own o get jungkook going most of the times. that isn't to say that he hasn't chimed in from time to time, that over their years together he's never spoken up about his own interests and desires (most memorable is probably the year he made yoongi dress as a cat for trick or treating, with some very unexpected consequences that led to them keeping the accessory set in their bedroom closet year round). but even so, nothing has ever been quite likes this. they've never really swung over into territory like this before, crossed a line over into hard kinks like this one, and maybe that's another part of why jungkook was so nervous, unsure about sharing it with yoongi, unsure of what his reaction would be or whether or not he would even be interested in the first place.

that all seems worlds away now, though. honestly, jungkook can barely even remember the conversation they had about it, the embarrassment and uncertainty he had felt back then are nowhere to be found whenever yoongi has him on his back on their bed, when he's fucking into him low and deep with one hand wrapped firmly around his neck, slowly applying more and more pressure, still testing the water. there's a part of jungkook that's grateful for the slow ease in, the way that it gives both of them an out just in case it hadn't gone as expected, but that isn't a concern that either of them need to worry about. at least not if the look in yoongi's eyes is anything to go by, the way that he shifts to anchor himself, how jungkook swears he can physically see the shiver run through him, the way that something else is coming over him, something he's never really seen, heard, felt from his husband before. not like this. and it's easy, it's as simple as that and jungkook is ready and willing to dive right in, wants to be submerged in all of this, to sink into every second of it that yoongi is willing to give him. because it's good, it's so, so fucking good, and god. he doesn't want to stop.

jungkook's pulse is fast and erratic under yoongi's fingers, his heart pounding harder in his chest, breath stuttering just with the weight of his arousal and how quickly it's spiking, feels like it could spiral out of control at any second, feels like he could lose himself, fall apart completely in yoongi's hands in a matter of moments and all he wants to do is chase that. he's powerless to do anything else, really. powerless against anything but taking it, taking the way that yoongi fucks him, the way that he presses in more against his neck, the way that it has jungkook moving, a mindless reaction, one hand moving up to grip onto yoongi, holding on somewhere near his forearm. it isn't because he wants him to stop. he isn't tapping the back of his hand, he isn't mouthing their safeword, isn't asking yoongi to do anything but keep going, to maybe give him more of this, if he wants to. yoongi's dark gaze feels like it's shooting right through him, like it's burning him up from the inside out and jungkook wants it to, wills it to, finds his voice enough while he still can to give a choked, almost-whine of "please."

Honestly, how is Yoongi supposed to compete with that request?

He's done with the moment he sees the same dark pleasure coursing through his own body flash across Jungkook's expression at the press of his thumb, slowly building up the pressure. And he looks so beautiful like this, needy and aching for him, more vulnerable than Yoongi's ever seen before, than perhaps he's ever even had the opportunity to be. Because this is different from Yoongi feeling vulnerable--and more than a little ridiculous--shuffling around in his black cat costume that may or may not have given his husband the best unexpected boner ever. And this is different than Jungkook simply laying his guard down between the sheets, opening up for Yoongi's touch in that effortless way that will never not feel like the best thing in the entire world. This kind of vulnerability runs even deeper, because Yoongi literally has his life in his hands.

That kind of control should scare him shitless, and maybe somewhere inside of him it does, but the much bigger part is calmly taking everything in stride, basking in the way it makes complete sense. Knowing that Jungkook trusts him enough to tip back and leave himself in the older man's control, that Yoongi's the only person he would trust enough to do this with in the first place, satisfies him more than he could ever put into words. It grounds him the same way Jungkook does, the younger mindlessly clutching onto his arm with a new, more urgent kind need, nails biting his skin, looking every bit as feverish as he feels when Yoongi presses himself flush against his ass, grinding every inch that much deeper inside of him. As if there's still more to claim, some place inside of his husband he hasn't quite reached just yet. Yoongi's used to seeing his eyes roll back from just a few well-aimed thrusts...he wonders just how he'll look when the oxygen can't shutter through properly, when things start to go fuzzy at the corners and all he'll have is Yoongi to anchor himself to.

Yoongi knows he isn't hurting Jungkook. He knows because Jungkook tells him, and Yoongi listens. Despite the teasing and the long-winded foreplay and the body worshiping that will never come to an end no matter how many nights he devotes to his husband, Yoongi always listens. "Good boy," he murmurs, voice thick with arousal as he pushes forward enough to make Jungkook's hips lift sightly from the mattress, knowing full well the angle will have Jungkook losing whatever lingering grasp on reality he has. He's really laying into him now, fucking him fast and unrelenting, mercilessly hitting his prostate as his fingers curl that much tighter around Jungkook's throat. Keeping him right there, just like before. Just where he wants it. Smothering that wild pulse.

"Good boy, Jungkook." His husband's hips shudder from the impact every single time, all harsh slaps of skin, and fuck, if that doesn't make his cock fuck even harder, satisfied groans spilling from Yoongi's lips.

jungkook trusts yoongi. that's a given, has been for years, something that they've built up over so long now, such a strong foundation and there's never been any reason for him to doubt it. there's never been any second guessing, any moment of worry or wondering whether or not he made the right choice. it's just been as simple as that all along, ever since day one. jungkook has always trusted yoongi, has always been more than willing to give that over to him, but even so, never in a way like this before. because in some ways, in some very real ways, this kind of trust runs even deeper than what they already have. he knows how much he's placing on yoongi, what kind of weight he's putting on his shoulders, what kind of pressure he was putting on him with a request like this in the first place. but yoongi took it wholeheartedly, willingly. yoongi is carrying it and giving jungkook back exactly what he wants, giving him so much by taking something so simple and yet so vital away and maybe it's fucked up at a moment like this to think about how much he fucking loves this man but jungkook does, and it drives him crazy, just as crazy as everything else.

because nothing else about this is loving. at least not in the conventional sense, not in that tender, soft way that the two of them can get, have had their fair share of over the years. it's different, it's all raw, rough and jungkook is essentially helpless, entirely at yoongi's mercy and he isn't sure if he's ever experienced anything, if he's ever felt anything so fucking hot in his entire life. he knows enough to know that he isn't supposed to gasp for breath, isn't supposed to let himself try even though it's a natural instinct with the way that yoongi's fingers only tighten around his throat, firm and yet still careful, pressing in enough to restrict without hurting him in the slightest. yoongi would never hurt him, not unless jungkook asked him to, and he knows that. jungkook tries to do his best to focus on breathing normally, but it's hard whenever yoongi is fucking him like that, practically ripping any shred of coherency from him more and more with each passing second.

but jungkook wants it. he wants it and he can tell that yoongi wants it too, can see it, feel it in the way that he fucks him, hear it in the low, delicious sounds that he keeps making. the praise only makes it that much better, because jungkook fucking loves it, loves being called yoongi's good boy, loves knowing he's doing everything right, doing a good job, just for him. it gets jungkook's eyes rolling, and god, the only think he wants is for this to keep going, to drag it out as much as possible, because it feels so fucking good that if he had it his way, they would never stop. but he's already getting close, sensation only magnified by the beginnings of something else, something different tingling through him, the way that everything is getting a little fuzzy around the edges the longer they go on, the harder yoongi chokes him. he knows that this is the part where they need to be careful, knows that they can't push too far but he also knows that he wants more, that he can take more, just a little, pleasure sounds starting to catch and back up in his throat.

He is a good boy. Such a good boy for Yoongi, trusting and beautiful and drunk on lust, on every sensation being pulled from his body. The praise slips out unconsciously, as it usually does during sex, but even this feels different than it usually does. The words burn on Yoongi's tongue the same way Jungkook burns around him, and maybe if he weren't in so fucking deep he would have been half-way concerned about just hot Jungkook is, every part of him flushed and pink and god he just looks so good. Yoongi can't resist staring at the way Jungkook tips back slightly, eyes rolling back from the pleasure, his breathing coming out stuttered, soft. It's obvious, the affect his hold is having. Apparently all that research from before paid off, the insistent press of his thumb and the snap of his hips getting the younger man loose-limbed and glassy eyed, expression completely blissed out. The choked little sounds below him shouldn't make his cock twitch in desperation. Definitely shouldn't make Yoongi fuck him harder.

But he's just as helpless to it as Jungkook is, doesn't even think to fight it. And at the same time he's continuing to stare, soaking in every detail, catching the threshold in Jungkook's expression. He's never not careful, even in the midst of everything else--won't let himself lose his focus for even one moment. Because one moment is all it takes for this to become something else, something far more destructive than this mind-numbing pleasure. Yoongi can tell. And suddenly Jungkook's limits are reduced to the ticks on the clock, the rhythm of his own heart pounding in his ears. He holds it for one...two...three more seconds before he lets Jungkook go, fingers easing off the intense pressure without actually pulling away.

Without even thinking about it Yoongi swoops down to drag the flat of his tongue against the same spot his thumb had just been on. Soothing the abused skin, still warm from his body heat, and this close Yoongi can hear the boy's rabbit heart in his chest. The white-knuckled fist in the pillow soon finds a new home on his husband, giving his hipbone a bruising sort of grip that forces Jungkook to meet every thrust head on. He never once stops, doesn't even pause, pressing more slurred, mindless praises against his neck. The only thoughts that shutter through are fuck him more and love him more, because he can take care of his boy in more ways than one--always has. And he'll continue doing so until Jungkook can't possibly take anymore, until that satisfaction he's been chasing and begging for all night finally brings him down.

jungkook is into this, so into this, more than willing to lose himself in all of it entirely. he wants to, wants to sink down deeper, deeper into yoongi, into everything he's giving him until he can't possibly get anymore. maybe it's selfish, maybe it's a little greedy but jungkook knows that it's mutually beneficial, knows his husband well enough by now to know he's certainly enjoying himself every bit as much. it's just as good as jungkook had thought it would be, as the fleeting thoughts and fantasies his mind came up with made it out to be. it's even better, feeling yoongi's fingers wrapped around his throat, feeling so completely out of control, feeling the way that everything starts to feel a little lighter.

yoongi eases up on the pressure, lets go without letting go, gives jungkook the space to breathe. and he's taking in air as soon as he can, because his body wants it, needs it, pulling it in in quick gasps at the same time that yoongi is fucking it right back out of him. it's a combination of things he's never felt before, head still swimming, dizzy with pleasure and the brief lack of oxygen that only seems to push it higher, push him higher, makes it all feel so good.

all of the sounds backed up get their chance to escape, leaving jungkook moaning, whining, making sounds he isn't even aware of every few seconds. it's always better like this, better when he's free to let go, when he doesn't have to worry about holding anything back. there's nothing to be embarrassed about, absolutely no shame in the way he lets yoongi know exactly how good it is, one hand still tight around yoongi's wrist, the other skipping its way up to his neck, sliding into his hair. "fuck," he groans out, right around the same time that his thighs start to shake from the intensity of it, when he knows he can't hold on even as much as he wants to. "fuck, yoongi - gonna make me come."

For the hundredth time tonight Yoongi is so thankful that they're alone, because the moment Jungkook starts up with those sounds--obscene moans and whimpers and breathless little whines that leave Yoongi's fingers clutching harder at his waist--the only thing he wants is to drown in them. Everything. His body keeps taking more and more of Jungkook until it feels like he's melting into that intoxicating heat, until he's not quite sure where he starts and his husband begins. It's all so rushed, rough, loud. Unbelievably amazing. If Jungkook had originally wanted this to drag out--well, they're sure as hell racing forward now, unraveling each other piece by piece. Not that Yoongi minds when he has fingers raking and twisting in his hair, Jungkook tightening and shuddering around him so fucking good, lips still claiming whatever skin is closest to him.

Those words will never not make him weak. As much as he can read Jungkook's body like the back of his hand, and even with that deep gut feeling that they're both falling hard, hearing Jungkook tell him when he's close is always so much better. Such a good, good boy. Yoongi pushes himself back up so he can look properly at Jungkook, eyes hooded, blown black as they take him in. For as adventurous and willing as they are in the bedroom, Yoongi prefers finishing together like this, as stupidly sappy as it might sound. No other position can make him feel half as connected to Jungkook as he is right now, bodies flush together, hearts beating in tandem and foreheads brushing as Yoongi stares straight into Jungkook eyes. Leaving him bare all over again.

"Go on, baby," Yoongi pants, voice ruined and low as he continues plowing into the younger man, the smack of their skin mingling with those filthy noises below him. Jungkook's neglected cock bounces against their stomachs, still making a mess of them, painfully hard. Normally Yoongi would help finish him off with a couple hard strokes, but not this time. This time he wants Jungkook to get off exactly like this--filled to the brim with Yoongi, accepting everything he has to give him, just like what Jungkook needs. There's nothing more than this--nothing else that can satisfy him like this. Fingers ghost over Jungkook's throat, little more than a teasing press, a reminder. A reason to make those thighs shake again. "Be good and come for me."

jungkook doesn't have to tell yoongi. he knows that he doesn't have to tell yoongi that he's close, knows that his husband knows, because he always does. because they've done this so many times that they can read each other like a book, and the older man has exploited that knowledge more than a handful of times, any time he wants to, really. he's good at that, just like jungkook is good at giving himself up to him, letting yoongi take over, make the decisions, because they both know just how much he gets off on that anyway. but even so, jungkook likes telling him. he likes the way that yoongi praises him when he tells him, because telling him means being a good boy, yoongi's good boy, means hearing his husband give him permission to let go in that deep drawl that drives jungkook so fucking crazy.

there's no slowing it down now, and jungkook knows that, too. there's no backing down, no easing off when yoongi is fucking him this hard, when he's pulling back to look at him like that, everything so rough and intense in a way that they definitely don't get every time, that's usually reserved for the times like this - times when they are completely and utterly alone. jungkook is still thanking god for that, for a lot of things, but mostly for this man on top of him, inside of him, wrapped around every single part of him so much, so completely that how could he do anything but fall apart in his hands?

it doesn't take much more than that. jungkook's eyes are hazy and dark but they meet yoongi's gaze head-on as much as he can. it's hard to tell what it is that actually does him in, if it's yoongi's voice or a particularly hard thrust or the feeling of his fingers on his throat again. it doesn't really matter. what matters is the way that the tension snaps, gets his head tipping back, eyes closed, jaw slack when it hits him and he can't do anything but give into it, into the way that yoongi makes him come so hard that his thighs are definitely shaking again. his breath catches in his throat, backed up on moans of yoongi's name, shameless sounds of pure pleasure because why wouldn't he want to let his husband know exactly how good it is, exactly how good he made him feel, fingers tightening in his hair and nails biting into his skin.

It always takes Yoongi's breath away, every single fucking time, watching Jungkook come. He loves the way his eyes scrunch up, the hard set of his brow, how his lips fall open in that first silent cry before all the other sounds rush to catch up. He loves the blissed out expression, how the pleasure softens and sharpens Jungkook at the exact same time. He loves the way he arches, neck on full display while the rest of him rolls back into his hips. But most of all he loves the way it feels when Jungkook lets go, that silky, perfect warmth tightening around him over and over again until Yoongi's the one watching stars burst behind his eyelids, skin prickling with an urgency that only really means one thing. His stomach clenches hard, arousal pooling so fast that it overflows, fuck him more love him more fuck fuck fuck fucking shit.

Jungkook's still moaning his name when Yoongi's orgasm rams into him, hard. A few more erratic thrusts and then he stills, muscles rippling from the sheer sensation of coming deep inside his husband, claiming him, embracing him, making his home in him all over again. All the little satisfactions from earlier are nothing compared to this feeling spreading through his body now, and all Yoongi can do is fuck Jungkook through it, the movements much slower, more sensual as he rocks his hips forward. The sensitivity and exhaustion will come soon enough--for now, though, he can linger exactly where he is, groans spilling out from the kisses he presses everywhere on Jungkook's neck, jaw, ears, feeling absolutely boneless.

While Yoongi would be more than content to simply stay buried inside Jungkook, pulling the younger's back against his chest to curl up and fall asleep, he's also fully aware of his husband's sensibilities. Leaving a mess in bed--or on one another or in one another--isn't exactly acceptable. So eventually Yoongi moves, growling softly as he eases his softening dick out of Jungkook, already missing the warmth. Forcing his jelly-like limbs to work, Yoongi shuffles toward the edge of the bed to grab a couple tissues from the table, making quick work of cleaning off Jungkook's abs. Maybe it isn't his best job--and maybe it's an excuse to dip down and clean up the rest with his tongue. And all he can think of, pressed close once again, is that he hopes it was everything Jungkook wished for. He hopes it was as good as Jungkook imagined for so long--or maybe even better. He wants it all to be worth it, for his husband to have felt just how much he loves him, just how much he wants to make him happy. Nothing is as good as knowing he took care of Jungkook in that way.

it feels just as good all over again, when yoongi falls apart, when he comes right along with jungkook. he loves it, loves the way his rhythm grows erratic and then stills, loves feeling the waves of pleasure course through his husband, all the way through to the way that he throbs inside him, so fucking good. because it means that yoongi likes it just as much, that it was good for him, that jungkook was good for him, that he made yoongi feel every bit as amazing as he did. and yoongi keeps pushing little echoes of that same pleasure through jungkook with every lingering roll of his hips, coaxing more little sounds in between panted breaths until he comes down and can't move anymore.

there's a grace period before jungkook starts getting bothered by it all. once his mind clears from the haze of pleasure and lingering heat he'll start to feel his skin prickling at the mess on his stomach, what will undoubtedly leak and find a place on his thighs. but right now, he's still riding it a little, breath just starting to even out, all boneless and heavy and it's hard to believe that today he was even feeling stressed in the first place.

he can't help scrunching his face just a little, one last soft sound escaping with the feeling of yoongi moving, pulling out only to shuffle towards their bedside table and start to clean jungkook up a little. he watches, feels that little rush of heat that always comes with yoongi's tongue on his skin. a contented little him pushes through his throat, followed by a soft "c'mere" and fingers tugging at yoongi gently to coax him up until jungkook can kiss him properly, linger a little, hands on either side of yoongi's neck. "i love you," the words come out again first without jungkook even thinking about them, punctuated with another kiss, "and that was fucking incredible."

Yoongi lets himself be tugged up--he'll always let himself be pulled into Jungkook's arms, into his intoxicating kisses that always taste even better after sex. The heat lingers, but it's quieter now, easing into his bones like the comfortable weight of Jungkook's hands against his skin, cradling his neck and keeping him close, keeping him in place. The irony isn't lost on him, being on the opposite end of those touches. The thought makes his lips curl, which then quickly becomes a full-on gummy smile at Jungkook's very adamant approval. Fucking incredible. Well, he'll fucking take that.

"Loveyoutoo," he murmurs into another slow kiss, syllables lazy and slurred together but no less genuine than they always are. It's just wrong not to say it back. Even after all this time it still gives him butterflies, makes him want to simultaneously shout it from the rooftops (because everyone should know about this) and keep it protected at all costs (because no one else can understand the way that they do). His own hand reaches up to gently sweep Jungkook's fringe off of his forehead, the ends of his hair damp with sweat. He wants to take advantage of this grace period as much as he can, adore all these aspects that Jungkook will find gross later on.

"Told you I had plenty in mind for you." He can't not tease his husband, take him back to when this all started in the first place with him getting home from work--which by now feels like it happened hours ago. And then Yoongi's smile softens into something else, fingers continuing to brush through his hair as he takes in his husband. "Is it what you thought it'd be?" he asks honestly. The funny thing is, for as much as Jungkook seeks the praise and validation in bed, wanting to be good for Yoongi, Yoongi wants to be just as good for him. Wants to be the best for him, even. Jungkook deserves nothing less than that.

jungkook is satisfied with yoongi close to him again, always satisfied whenever he can kiss him like this, when it fills him up with the same kind of slow, easy warmth that still comes after all this time. the way that yoongi presses those familiar words into him makes him smile, his touch still lingering at the sides of yoongi's neck before smoothing down into slow, affectionate touches over his collarbone, his chest, simply exploring as much of his skin as he can manage for the sake of touching. he can't help it - he just wants to be close. at least until the grace period runs out and he's left wanting to clean up. but even then, he'll want to do it with yoongi by his side, because there's no way his husband is getting away from him for the rest of the night.

the way that yoongi's fingers brush through his hair is soft, affectionate, everything that coaxes jungkook more and more into just wanting to stay like this, to give up moving for the next several hours, at least. he can't help but to give into it a little bit, taking a few moments just to study yoongi, gaze trailing over his expression, his features, slowly taking in everything about his husband, every single thing that he loves so much. the tease that comes from the older man just earns a slight scrunch of jungkook's nose, a gentle pinch of yoongi's skin between his fingers but jungkook is soothing it a second later with brushes of his thumb, settling to listen attentively when he notices the shift in yoongi's expression, when he asks that question.

there's no way that jungkook can do anything about the squeeze in his chest that comes just from that question, from the way that yoongi is asking him at all let alone so genuinely, how he wants to know even after all the signs point to just how much jungkook enjoyed it. but he can't resist the urge to tease his husband a little bit, too, giving an initial hum of "mm-mm" in response, matched with a small shake of his head. but a second later there's a grin breaking through, because it's not like he can keep that up for long, and especially not whenever yoongi is asking him so earnestly. "it was better. way better than i thought it would be like." it's a little embarrassing still, even now, talking about this. ironic how it can still make jungkook flush just a little when yoongi was choking him a matter of minutes ago, but it does, has his own grin turning a little soft, shy around the edges.

For Yoongi, checking in with Jungkook is the most natural thing in the world--and especially given the last few weeks following their counseling, it's been even more important. There's so many other ways he feel he can improve as a husband, so many things he can do to carve out time for two of them so they can have more opportunities like this. All the house work he did today, cleaning and scrubbing and organizing and folding, is really just the tip of the iceberg. But for right now, in this moment, all he really cares about is whether or not he lived up to Jungkook's expectations. At the end of each day, it's always the same question, the same desire and drive that pushes him forward--did he make his husband happy today?

Yoongi just chuckles at the small, sharp pinch to his side--typical--before Jungkook settles back into the soft touches. It's so easy to melt into the younger man all over again, every inch of him warmed by the way Jungkook strokes at his chest, collarbones, as though he could be lulled to sleep right then and there. Which doesn't sound like a bad idea, to be honest. Just lounging in bed with Jungkook for 72 hours doesn't sound so bad, either. Before he can get too far with those thoughts, however, he's distracted once again by how fucking adorable his husband is, eyes sparkling and playful, with the kind of soft grin that Yoongi likes to think is reserved just for him in these quiet moments together. He's so gorgeous then it aches, aches in places Yoongi still doesn't even fully understand and maybe never will. But those words he does understand, and they root deep inside his chest, warmth spreading out even further. Yes--very happy. It's written everywhere on Jungkook, open and warm and content underneath him, and yeah--it was definitely worth it.

"Good," Yoongi simply murmurs, his own smile lingering fondly at the corners, knowing that Jungkook will understand what he's saying. He always does. Coaxing Jungkook into another slow kiss, Yoongi lets himself continue to indulge in his husband and the lingering heat, dragging out this sweet spot for two...five...ten more minutes. Lost track of the minutes. And maybe, just maybe, he'll get lucky and they really won't have to leave. He's managed to snag and hold onto Jungkook all this time, after all--why not just a little longer?

"Cause I'm not done with you yet, either."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[yoongi/jungkook] ; breathless

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