Objectively, Yoongi knows at least on some level how good this must feel to Jungkook. By now Seokjin's given him enough information and advice on bunny heats to last him a lifetime, by now he's been living with Jungkook for years, has helped guide the younger boy through about dozen of these, by now he's grown much more comfortable with the overwhelmed mess Jungkook becomes during these times, so much more animal than human. Or at least...that's what Yoongi had always assumed when he was on the other side of the bedroom, walls separating the two. Seeing it unfold now is something else entirely. The only other time Yoongi had lingered this long was for the very first heat, after a very panicked phone call to the doctor was made and instructions were promptly given. He had shown Jungkook, who was even more clueless and pitiful than Yoongi was, how to get himself off with his hand. It hadn't taken long for the poor boy to release, and Yoongi's nerves were so jumpy by that point that it was just as much of a relief for him when Jungkook's cries quieted, the peak of the storm passing.
Even then, Yoongi hadn't touched him. Not like this--not directly. The heat of him is stunning, Yoongi watching on in a sort of curious fascination as the barest movement of his fingers creates such large ripple effects. It's as though he's watching a whole other side of Jungkook, some raw, intense part of him, snap instantly to life. Everything in the boy seems to happen on pure instinct, from the fluttering of his ears to the way his hips desperately pitch forward, already bucking up into a non-existent fist, whining softly throughout it all. It's the sort of reaction he's used to getting from people after he's already worked them over for some time, not right at the beginning, and knowing he's already making Jungkook feel so much from so little has him shifting closer on the bed, matching the other's insistence, his need for more. Yoongi's heart can't stop pounding in his ears.
"You're doing so good, Kook," he praises, voice little more than a murmur as he tightens around Jungkook, giving him the friction he was helplessly seeking out earlier. His cock throbs in his fingers, stirring further at the attention and spilling even more precum, making a small mess of the boy's stomach. Yoongi can't help but stare at him as he thumbs along Jungkook's slit, slicking up the pads of his fingers so he can jerk him off smooth and quick and easy--the same one he taught the boy to do all that time ago. Jungkook simply looks gorgeous like this, even in the throes of his own frustration, or perhaps because of it in the first place. It's easier to focus on the boy's flushed expression, the pretty way his muscles shift and tense than to think too much about what he's doing. Because the truth of the matter is that Yoongi isn't giving him any space to relax. He's quietly set a relentless pace, aimed at only one objective. Even the firm hand at the boy's hip, steadying his wriggling, is so that there won't be any interruptions.
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Even then, Yoongi hadn't touched him. Not like this--not directly. The heat of him is stunning, Yoongi watching on in a sort of curious fascination as the barest movement of his fingers creates such large ripple effects. It's as though he's watching a whole other side of Jungkook, some raw, intense part of him, snap instantly to life. Everything in the boy seems to happen on pure instinct, from the fluttering of his ears to the way his hips desperately pitch forward, already bucking up into a non-existent fist, whining softly throughout it all. It's the sort of reaction he's used to getting from people after he's already worked them over for some time, not right at the beginning, and knowing he's already making Jungkook feel so much from so little has him shifting closer on the bed, matching the other's insistence, his need for more. Yoongi's heart can't stop pounding in his ears.
"You're doing so good, Kook," he praises, voice little more than a murmur as he tightens around Jungkook, giving him the friction he was helplessly seeking out earlier. His cock throbs in his fingers, stirring further at the attention and spilling even more precum, making a small mess of the boy's stomach. Yoongi can't help but stare at him as he thumbs along Jungkook's slit, slicking up the pads of his fingers so he can jerk him off smooth and quick and easy--the same one he taught the boy to do all that time ago. Jungkook simply looks gorgeous like this, even in the throes of his own frustration, or perhaps because of it in the first place. It's easier to focus on the boy's flushed expression, the pretty way his muscles shift and tense than to think too much about what he's doing. Because the truth of the matter is that Yoongi isn't giving him any space to relax. He's quietly set a relentless pace, aimed at only one objective. Even the firm hand at the boy's hip, steadying his wriggling, is so that there won't be any interruptions.