Yoongi still can't get over the image. Jungkook looks all kinds of gorgeous roughed up like this, knees scraping against unforgiving cement floor with his lips shiny from Yoongi's cock, head bowed toward him as though there's a magnet pulling them close. And hell, maybe there is, given how little the younger boy even needs any sort of encouragement. One good shove and he's mouthing against his dick like a good boy should, getting him nice and wet before deep throating him properly not three seconds later. Something burns inside of Yoongi, watching it happen all over again, seeing himself disappear inside the kid like a fucking magic trick. Somehow going deeper, deeper, and god, it's so good. The sharp squeeze against his thigh so good because Yoongi knows, and he isn't going to let Jungkook off easy. He knows that anything less than that would just be an insult to the dancer. And how can Yoongi say no?
His other hand comes up to curl around the back of Jungkook's neck, firm enough to make an impression as he thrusts in home. The boy's throat is so relaxed, so open for him, and before he even really starts he knows it's going to be impossible to stop. Yoongi isn't thinking about whether or not the kid's jerking himself off to this anymore. He isn't thinking about the fact that anyone else could be in this room, he isn't thinking about Hoseok and the others wondering what the fuck happened to them, and he sure as hell isn't thinking about anything past this moment. The only thing firing through his brain is fucking Jungkook good and hard--and he does. His back curves forward, shoulders tense as he hunches above the younger boy, gripping him tight so there's nothing else for him to do but take the brutal pace. The sounds are absolutely filthy, way too loud, and he doesn't care. Everything in him shakes as his hips snap forward, an accidental graze of teeth knocking the wind straight out of him. "Fuck." The word is nothing more than a clawing in his stomach, raw need lodged in his throat. The pleasure's almost more than he can take, but Yoongi doesn't want it to end.
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His other hand comes up to curl around the back of Jungkook's neck, firm enough to make an impression as he thrusts in home. The boy's throat is so relaxed, so open for him, and before he even really starts he knows it's going to be impossible to stop. Yoongi isn't thinking about whether or not the kid's jerking himself off to this anymore. He isn't thinking about the fact that anyone else could be in this room, he isn't thinking about Hoseok and the others wondering what the fuck happened to them, and he sure as hell isn't thinking about anything past this moment. The only thing firing through his brain is fucking Jungkook good and hard--and he does. His back curves forward, shoulders tense as he hunches above the younger boy, gripping him tight so there's nothing else for him to do but take the brutal pace. The sounds are absolutely filthy, way too loud, and he doesn't care. Everything in him shakes as his hips snap forward, an accidental graze of teeth knocking the wind straight out of him. "Fuck." The word is nothing more than a clawing in his stomach, raw need lodged in his throat. The pleasure's almost more than he can take, but Yoongi doesn't want it to end.