Yoongi could easily come himself, just like this. Has plenty of times before, with Jungkook buried between his thighs, swallowing every drop as he let himself go, succumbed to the perfect, tight heat of his throat. Every weekend they spend together sees Jungkook in this position, knees roughed up against the hard wood floor of his apartment, or spread on the crisp white sheets of his bed. Or sometimes even straddling Yoongi's head as he pleasures the young boy at the same time. And every single time it leaves sparks behind Yoongi's eyelids, leaves him shaking and wondering how those pretty lips could do such filthy things. Thank god that they can.
It's not empty praise, the words that drip out of him. In moments like these, Jungkook simply is made for him. Yoongi continues to watch as the boy pulls off his cock with a breathless little sound, the slick glide of his hand making his hips stutter, before leaning down to suck him back in. Jungkook does it like he's starved, pushing himself to take Yoongi deeper, inch by inch steadily disappearing inside of him. His own special form of magic. Fitting daddy inside so nicely, so snug. It's only when the tip of his cock nudges the back of Jungkook's throat that a groan finally rips out of Yoongi, the older man powerless to that blinding, white-hot sensation. Suddenly he scrambles his fingers into Jungkook's hair, holding him down until Jungkook's nose brushes his skin, before forcing him off. This happens a couple more times, letting the boy catch his breath, fucking into his throat all over again, roughly keeping the boy right where he needs him. By that point Yoongi is rigid and panting against the couch, glazed eyes watching as his boy starts to look more and more ruined. He's getting closer--if he doesn't stop now their fun together will take a detour, and Yoongi's nothing if not disciplined. He knows exactly where he wants them to go, where he wants this night to lead, and finishing himself off now isn't part of the plan.
This time, when Yoongi pulls Jungkook off of his cock, he just keeps him there. He stares down at the boy's cherry red lips slick with precum, teary eyes, hair tousled from his own grip--he looks so utterly, prettily wrecked that something in Yoongi gives a little. "Good boy," he breathes, lifting Jungkook up to meet his kiss, rough-sweet and messy. He tastes himself on the boy's tongue, tastes everything, cock somehow growing that much harder as he comes out and asks "You still want to take more, don't you? Want daddy to fuck you for real?" Just like before, Yoongi already knows the answer. And just like before, he needs to hear Jungkook say it. He needs to hear how bad he really wants it.
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It's not empty praise, the words that drip out of him. In moments like these, Jungkook simply is made for him. Yoongi continues to watch as the boy pulls off his cock with a breathless little sound, the slick glide of his hand making his hips stutter, before leaning down to suck him back in. Jungkook does it like he's starved, pushing himself to take Yoongi deeper, inch by inch steadily disappearing inside of him. His own special form of magic. Fitting daddy inside so nicely, so snug. It's only when the tip of his cock nudges the back of Jungkook's throat that a groan finally rips out of Yoongi, the older man powerless to that blinding, white-hot sensation. Suddenly he scrambles his fingers into Jungkook's hair, holding him down until Jungkook's nose brushes his skin, before forcing him off. This happens a couple more times, letting the boy catch his breath, fucking into his throat all over again, roughly keeping the boy right where he needs him. By that point Yoongi is rigid and panting against the couch, glazed eyes watching as his boy starts to look more and more ruined. He's getting closer--if he doesn't stop now their fun together will take a detour, and Yoongi's nothing if not disciplined. He knows exactly where he wants them to go, where he wants this night to lead, and finishing himself off now isn't part of the plan.
This time, when Yoongi pulls Jungkook off of his cock, he just keeps him there. He stares down at the boy's cherry red lips slick with precum, teary eyes, hair tousled from his own grip--he looks so utterly, prettily wrecked that something in Yoongi gives a little. "Good boy," he breathes, lifting Jungkook up to meet his kiss, rough-sweet and messy. He tastes himself on the boy's tongue, tastes everything, cock somehow growing that much harder as he comes out and asks "You still want to take more, don't you? Want daddy to fuck you for real?" Just like before, Yoongi already knows the answer. And just like before, he needs to hear Jungkook say it. He needs to hear how bad he really wants it.