it only seems to get that much worse with every second that passes. impossibly so, because jungkook isn't sure that his body could possibly get any hotter, that he could want any more than he already does now, but it's as if he keeps proving himself wrong with every passing moment. he never seems to get used to it, no matter how many times it happens. it's never any less intense, never hits him with any less force than it did the very first time, always catching him off guard and rendering him more or less completely helpless. only this time, there's something about it that's a little bit different. different enough that it's sending those pangs of want through him more and more, with an urgency, an insistence that's only growing, like every single inch of him is already on edge and he's only been awake for a matter of minutes.
whatever it is, this something that's making him crazy, it only seems to get worse whenever yoongi makes his way back over to the bed. when he settles himself near his side, when he's smoothing his hand over his forehead, pushing his hair back. the touches are simple, they're sweet, likely would have made jungkook feel better if this were any situation but as it is, every time that yoongi touches him, every nerve ending that the older man comes into contact with just leaves him wanting that much more of it. jungkook really can't help it. he can't help the way that he tries to push up into yoongi's hand, can't help the way that his ears quiver and twitch slightly, how his eyes fall closed for a few moments before yoongi speaks again.
jungkook knows what yoongi is asking him, what he's suggesting. he knows because it's the same thing that they always so, that he always does, the same way that he always manages to get himself through his heats without losing his mind entirely. it's always been enough, jungkook has always managed to make it, at least, spending days alone in their bedroom with his hand and a small collection of toys that usually manage to at least keep the edge off, to keep himself from losing it entirely with need and desperation. but right now, even the thought of that is unbearable, enough to make him whine high in his throat. he doesn't want it, not when yoongi is here with him, when even the touch of his hand along his forehead feels so much better than anything else would, he knows it. jungkook is still grasping for coherency, but he manages well enough to reach up, to curl fingers around yoongi's wrist and shaking his head slightly. "don't," he answers, fingers tightening a little. "don't couch, yoongi." his eyes open then, looking back up, seeking out the older man even in his haze, because he knows what he wants. and he's far gone enough that he isn't embarrassed to ask for it, in his own way, the words breathless when they come out. "can you stay?"
no subject
whatever it is, this something that's making him crazy, it only seems to get worse whenever yoongi makes his way back over to the bed. when he settles himself near his side, when he's smoothing his hand over his forehead, pushing his hair back. the touches are simple, they're sweet, likely would have made jungkook feel better if this were any situation but as it is, every time that yoongi touches him, every nerve ending that the older man comes into contact with just leaves him wanting that much more of it. jungkook really can't help it. he can't help the way that he tries to push up into yoongi's hand, can't help the way that his ears quiver and twitch slightly, how his eyes fall closed for a few moments before yoongi speaks again.
jungkook knows what yoongi is asking him, what he's suggesting. he knows because it's the same thing that they always so, that he always does, the same way that he always manages to get himself through his heats without losing his mind entirely. it's always been enough, jungkook has always managed to make it, at least, spending days alone in their bedroom with his hand and a small collection of toys that usually manage to at least keep the edge off, to keep himself from losing it entirely with need and desperation. but right now, even the thought of that is unbearable, enough to make him whine high in his throat. he doesn't want it, not when yoongi is here with him, when even the touch of his hand along his forehead feels so much better than anything else would, he knows it. jungkook is still grasping for coherency, but he manages well enough to reach up, to curl fingers around yoongi's wrist and shaking his head slightly. "don't," he answers, fingers tightening a little. "don't couch, yoongi." his eyes open then, looking back up, seeking out the older man even in his haze, because he knows what he wants. and he's far gone enough that he isn't embarrassed to ask for it, in his own way, the words breathless when they come out. "can you stay?"