Yoongi would have been all to willing to keep pushing, keep coaxing Jungkook until he finally cracked, but the kid doesn't have it in him to last much longer. Honestly, he probably didn't even need everything Yoongi's giving to him in the first place--his hand would have gotten the job done just fine on its own. Not like Yoongi hasn't done it before. But getting under the boy's skin is such a nice reward, watching him fucking lose it when he's told to cum. Something tells Yoongi Jungkook would get off to shit like that. As much as he likes to run his mouth, for all that tough demeanor, he certainly didn't have any trouble with letting Yoongi take control of the situation, of him. Doesn't mind being called a good boy. His good boy right now. Fucking cumming all over his hand not even three seconds later, groaning so loud Yoongi has half a mind to shut him up with his tongue. So fuck it, he does.
It's just as messy and intense as the handjob itself, while Yoongi lets the kid continue to buck up into his palm, hips rolling to a melody thrumming through every nerve ending. His other hand is locked onto Jungkook's neck, holding him steady, right there where he had just placed his mark. He can taste himself on Jungkook's tongue. He likes that the taste is there, likes the taste of everything else, too. Feels less like a kiss and more like some raw kind of closure, because when it ends, when his hand falls away, it's as though the reality of the situation finally starts seeping back into his skin. He stares at Jungkook, all of him, for a few lingering moments, dark eyes raking over the mess he's made. Then he offers a wad of toilet paper. "Think you can still dance?"
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It's just as messy and intense as the handjob itself, while Yoongi lets the kid continue to buck up into his palm, hips rolling to a melody thrumming through every nerve ending. His other hand is locked onto Jungkook's neck, holding him steady, right there where he had just placed his mark. He can taste himself on Jungkook's tongue. He likes that the taste is there, likes the taste of everything else, too. Feels less like a kiss and more like some raw kind of closure, because when it ends, when his hand falls away, it's as though the reality of the situation finally starts seeping back into his skin. He stares at Jungkook, all of him, for a few lingering moments, dark eyes raking over the mess he's made. Then he offers a wad of toilet paper. "Think you can still dance?"