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jungkook's not quite sure on how to explain it- incapable of gathering the right words or the right semantics to summarize what it feels like. if he were namjoon, it might be a lot less hard to think about and a lot more easier to explain something like this. perhaps it’s still in some sort of stage in-between puppy love and that real sort of love that people talk about more often than not, jungkook wonders. maybe it’s a short circuit, a brief moment of a kind of really intense mantra of wantwantwant sent in his brain, reflected in his eyes when there’s yoongi, maybe next to him maybe not. but jimin says he sees it all the time.
-and maybe jungkook gets a little too embarrassed, shameful of this adoration held in the palm of his hands, tucked between his sleeve just enough for some to see but not all. but maybe it is all – jungkook tries to reason himself just so he can feel slightly better when there’s yoongi slumped in a chair too large for his hunched shoulders.
now, jungkook’s walking slowly towards yoongi with a flask of coffee as per the text message and his heart speeds up a bit faster, more erratic as he inches closer and jungkook’s not quite sure why but his cheeks are warming. “hyung?” jungkook asks, and waits for a response. he feels his shoulders droop slightly. he reaches out a lot unsure and taps yoongi gently on the shoulder, taking in the gauzy shadows beneath his eyes and the, uh –
“i take it i don’t look runway ready,” yoongi drawls slowly, voice hoarse from disuse and jungkook feels himself frown. though the next almost automatic response is, “you’re too short” and yoongi chuckles, a rough sound that sits right on the surface of his throat while jungkook wrings his hands sheepishly around the steel flask. “- i have the face for it.”
and that, jungkook can’t quite disagree with so he mumbles a flustered whatever before setting the bottle beside yoongi.
it’s quiet. before he can make a move to leave, jungkook feels a hand dart out and circle around his wrist – a steady pressure on the inside of his wrist, not pulling or pushing. jungkook shivers. yoongi pulls him down gently onto the seat next to him, an old rickety chair that’s been there for way longer than its shelf life; none of them bothered enough to throw it out. he looks a little proud of himself, which makes jungkook’s skin prickle uncomfortably. the sort of feeling of being thrown into a spotlight. yoongi stares, a feline smile stretching slowly across his face as he observes the way jungkook averts his eyes a bit more than usual, how his breaths are a bit more unstable than normal.
there’s a few beats of stifling silence, only the gentle rumble of a couple of monitors and distorted sounds beyond the closed door. “y-yeah?” jungkook swallows.
“i was thinking,” yoongi starts, leaning in real close. painfully close - enough so that he can smell a whiff of yoongi’s cologne and when his eyes stray downwards, the small cracks in his lips are noticeable. his breath hitches. “you need to relax -”
“huh?” he reaches out to place a hand below yoongi’s shoulder just in time - just enough to stop him from coming closer. a shaky breath is exhaled out, though jungkook is still acutely aware of how their knees are touching, yoongi’s thigh slotted against his and it becomes hard to breathe again. yoongi looks at ease, eyes still searching his face for something jungkook’s not quite sure he has. but jungkook, not so much.
“do i make you uncomfortable?” thin hands ghost over his own - unsure and a little apprehensive, and jungkook reaches out. quickly pushing his fingers in-between and grasps at yoongi’s hands, gnaws at his bottom lip, then ducks his head down when yoongi squeezes his own.
“no, no, it’s not that,” jungkook mutters and yoongi hums, urging him on as his thumb smooths along the back of his hand. his face turns crimson when his eyes inadvertently flick up to see yoongi staring, prying. yoongi shifts forward until they’re locked in a position, the hold he has on him turning flimsy as his skin becomes flush. yoongi makes a noise and jungkook blinks, turning his head away slightly to deflect the burning look, cringing into himself. jungkook slips his hand out of his grip and reaches up to tug his shirt away from his neck, refusing to meet that amused gaze dipping across him and his hands are fists, knuckles white.
yoongi, with a hand still wrapped around one of jungkook’s fists, taps him on the chin once, twice and that, he can’t ignore. his eyes are dark but soft around the edges, a languid smile when jungkook lets out a breathy fuck and it doesn’t help when he looks at him like that. he shifts in his chair uncomfortably, hears the chair groan and moves so their legs aren’t as tangled and yet, they’re ever so close. yoongi’s hand hovers below his jaw, moving closer, closer until jungkook can feel his breath fan over his lips, fingers tapping teasingly on his bone and yoongi looks entertained by the reaction. “you can relax,” yoongi tells him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, lightly like his kisses are butterflies. “we’ve done this before, many times.”
“but i’m like… this each time,” jungkook protests weakly and yoongi laughs, finding it endearing, before kissing the beauty mark under his lip and it instantly makes it harder for jungkook to argue. “hyung needs to stop doing that,” he mumbles and yoongi moves away to frown questioningly. “you know – staring.”
“ah,” yoongi resumes, more relaxed as he pulls jungkook a little lower, “that.”
“yeah, it’s not- it’s just, it makes me feel weird,” jungkook breathes out quickly, feeble when yoongi tilts his chin up. “it’s not fair.”
“not fair?” yoongi chuckles and he stops at eye level. the grip jungkook has on yoongi’s hand becoming tighter, more urgent. they’re at hair’s breadth, yoongi looking directly until jungkook rips his eyes away, a thin sound passing through his lips. that has yoongi’s hold on his shirt tighten. “so like this, i see.” he’s teasing and jungkook lets him, completely distracted by the lips barely grazing over his own.
jungkook barely gets out a yeah when yoongi kisses him sweetly, fingers splayed on his cheek and a hand trailing down to the small of his back, his tongue licking over the seam of his mouth. he’s inexperienced as yoongi leads, hands roaming over his back while jungkook fists at yoongi’s jacket, trying to seek purchase when he nips a little too hard, a delicious fire ardent in his stomach. it takes a short while for jungkook to find his stride, biting carelessly when an uneasy thought slips between his hazy mind, distracting him while yoongi’s fingers curl beneath his shirt, eliciting a quiet groan. and like that, jungkook’s back again. jungkook whimpers, pathetic little sounds that as yoongi breaks the kiss, fingers in his hair and eyes hooded, it has him pulling him back down instantly. they should never stop, jungkook thinks as yoongi mouths at his jawbone, but on the other hand, it’s getting out of control too fast –
“ – we should stop,” yoongi murmurs into jungkook’s skin, as if on cue, but he doesn’t and jungkook isn’t in the right mind to tell him to stop – doesn’t want him to stop. it takes a bit more, his hands placed atop yoongi’s shoulders, squeezing when yoongi sucks a blooming mark on the juncture of his throat. we really shouldn’t jungkook tells himself, but his mind isn’t correspondent to his actions when he pushes a little closer.
“if you keep doing that…” yoongi pauses, gives him a light peck on his chin and jungkook is awfully gone.
“ – but,” his mouth is opened and yoongi is back again. staring. and wet lips, dark eyes and flushed cheeks have never looked any prettier. jungkook tries not to sound disappointed, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he looks up through his eyelashes while yoongi flattens his hair back into place. “ah,” he sighs and presses his palms up to feel at his cheeks. they’re still warm and he thinks back to what happened a few minutes ago and whines softly. embarrassing.
“actually…” yoongi says, holding jungkook’s face, countenance blank. his clothes are straightened out too. “again?”
it’s probably a bad idea but wantwantwant – need?
so he says:
“again.”
(“what are you doing?” “i need to get my - uh, phone.” “why don’t you – “ “they’re kissing.” “… oh-”)