there are absolutely no words that could ever explain the way that yoongi makes him feel. jungkook is sure of it, and especially right now, especially like this. it's just so good. yoongi is so good. jungkook has never felt better, safer, the kind of exactly right that he feels in moments like this. and it's not just the sex, of course it isn't - but god, that part of jungkook that struggled for so long to fully realize itself, the part that's still blossoming into something greater under the way that yoongi encourages and cares and - and he feels so satisfied, so good in his own skin when yoongi is buried underneath it right along with him that he's sure it's the only thing he'll ever need.

it's all disjointed, all part of that fever dream that swirls together in his head, drips all the way down into the rest of him, but it's no less honest - no less real. every single thing about this is real, and jungkook doesn't doubt it. can't doubt it when yoongi is fucking him like that, so good and deep and thorough and all jungkook can do is follow the way that his instinct is to grind back into him, against him, soaking up as much pleasure as yoongi is willing to give him and somehow still asking for more. he's a mess, edging closer and closer to absolutely blissed out and god - it feels so good, he can't help the way he chokes on a whine of pleasure when yoongi starts his assault on one of jungkook's most sensitive spots. it's exactly what he asked for, more, borderline too much but he loves it, takes it, sinks into it, his own fingers tightening, searching, holding onto yoongi so desperately for more to ground himself, to keep him from falling completely. "ngh - hyung, h-hyung," jungkook chokes out, all mindless in between the sinful, entirely embarrassing sounds that keep coming alongside the way that his thighs are starting to shake, like it's all just too much, too good for his body to handle.