Yoongi doesn't expect an answer. He doesn't give Jungkook a space for one, and regardless, it's more than obvious in the way the kid is blowing him how much he's enjoying himself. This isn't some forced job, there's no bitter disposition, not even a hint of hesitation. He's living for this shit, groaning even hotter around the length of his cock. Yoongi feels drunk on the way he lays against the boy's tongue, how much he fills him up as the other just takes it. Doesn't even come up gasping and choking on his dick the way Yoongi's used to seeing with other boys who think they can handle him--instead he just goes back in for the kill. One second Yoongi's jerking up into the shallow bob and the next he's tossing his head back hard against the door, balls deep in Jungkook's throat all over again. Somehow even deeper, harder than before. Fuck, does this kid even have a gag reflex? Yoongi can practically feel himself carving out a space inside the boy's throat.
Yoongi's own eyes squeeze shut at the intensity of pleasure rolling through him in thick waves. Starting to pant now, starting to shudder slightly from the way Jungkook manages to swallow tight around him. The pads of his fingers rub absentmindedly into the boy's scalp, every muscle in him going loose as he goes somewhere hot, somewhere hazy. A blowjob like this, Yoongi could probably forget his own damn name. His mind drifts on its own, imagines Jungkook sinking to his knees for countless other men, nameless, faceless men who can just as easily have him. Who probably did have him. Maybe it's the possessive clench in his chest or the weight of their tension or something else entirely, but when Yoongi opens his eyes and sees Jungkook touching himself, he doesn't even think about his reaction. The slack grip suddenly tightens, and he's tugging Jungkook right off his dick with a wet pop, baring that throat he was just starting to fuck into a sloppy mess. Jungkook loves it, alright. Loves it so much he forgot his place. "What did I say about no hands, Jeon?" And this time, Yoongi very much expects an answer.
no subject
Yoongi's own eyes squeeze shut at the intensity of pleasure rolling through him in thick waves. Starting to pant now, starting to shudder slightly from the way Jungkook manages to swallow tight around him. The pads of his fingers rub absentmindedly into the boy's scalp, every muscle in him going loose as he goes somewhere hot, somewhere hazy. A blowjob like this, Yoongi could probably forget his own damn name. His mind drifts on its own, imagines Jungkook sinking to his knees for countless other men, nameless, faceless men who can just as easily have him. Who probably did have him. Maybe it's the possessive clench in his chest or the weight of their tension or something else entirely, but when Yoongi opens his eyes and sees Jungkook touching himself, he doesn't even think about his reaction. The slack grip suddenly tightens, and he's tugging Jungkook right off his dick with a wet pop, baring that throat he was just starting to fuck into a sloppy mess. Jungkook loves it, alright. Loves it so much he forgot his place. "What did I say about no hands, Jeon?" And this time, Yoongi very much expects an answer.