jungkook doesn't know how long it takes to come back to himself. he doesn't know how long he lays there, how long he simply stays in place, trying to catch his breath, heart pounding, mind still pleasantly numb from the force of everything that just happened, how strong and fast the pleasure hit, how it's still lingering in every single inch of him. he doesn't remember yoongi letting go of the hold on his arms. he'll barely remember it later when the older man starts moving him altogether, pulling him up, words too far away and jungkook's mind still far too deep in his subspace to come out just yet.

he's powerless to do much of anything but take it, take everything that yoongi wants from him, that he's willing to give him. every single inch of jungkook still feels oversensitive, his whole body feels like a livewire all over again, feels like he can't come down from this high, not when yoongi is still touching him, definitely not when yoongi is still fucking him.

jungkook can't hold himself up when his arms are this unreliable, when every part of him is shaky and boneless all at once, entirely pliant to yoongi's touches, his demands, however he wants him. jungkook simply stays where he is, straddling the older man, slumped against his chest and letting out breathless, choked sounds with every long, deep thrust inside him. because he's sensitive, because it still feels good, the kind of good that almost starts to border on too good.