Chapter Text

Chapter Five

Jungkook jolted awake with a sharp gasp, his entire body lurching up from the bed. Disoriented, he blinked rapidly as he scanned his surroundings, his vision slowly becoming clearer as he recognized the familiar layout of his room.

He let out a yawn, scratching the back of his neck before casting a glance at the clock on his nightstand. A groggy groan escaped his throat when he saw the time.

Falling back into the soft cushions, he mumbled, “why the hell am I waking up at eight in the morning on a damn Saturday?”

His eyes fluttered shut again, a quiet sigh leaving his lips as the peaceful silence wrapped around him. He felt himself on the edge of slipping back into sleep.

Jungkook’s head snapped to the left when it suddenly hit him, he was alone in bed.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Hyung’s already up?” he muttered to himself.

He didn’t remember exactly what time they had left the party, but he was sure it had been late. Too late for Taehyung to be up this early, especially on a weekend. A small pout tugged at Jungkook’s lips as he realized he would have much preferred waking up in Taehyung’s arms rather than in an empty bed.

He shrugged off the thought and climbed out of bed, dragging himself to the bathroom to freshen up before heading toward the kitchen. His hands were busy tying his hair into a loose ponytail when he suddenly froze mid-motion, arms falling to his sides as his hair slipped back down around his face.

“What…” he said under his breath, confused by the sight before him.

The kitchen was spotless. Not a single dish in the sink, not a crumb on the counter. It looked as though no one had set foot in there at all.

Weird.

In all the time they’d lived together, Taehyung had never once cleaned up after using the kitchen. It was always Jungkook who handled those chores. So seeing everything so pristine could only mean one thing—Taehyung hadn’t eaten breakfast yet.

Either that, or he’d hit his head and, for the first time in history, actually cleaned up after himself.

But Jungkook wasn’t buying that.

He turned around and walked back down the hallway, heading straight to his roommate’s room, opening the door without even bothering to knock.

Empty. Taehyung wasn’t there either.

“Where the hell is he—” Jungkook stopped mid-sentence, eyes falling on the mess of tangled sheets on Taehyung’s bed, as if someone had been wrestling in them all night.

He stepped in slowly, then let himself plop down onto the mattress. His arms reached for the nearest bundle of fabric, pulling a heap of blankets to his face before inhaling deeply.

Taehyung’s heavy musk hit him instantly.

It was rich, almost animalistic—but somehow elegant too, dangerously soft in a way that made Jungkook’s stomach twist. He inhaled again, slower this time, and a low ache curled in his gut. God, he loved that scent.

He did it again. And again. Until a soft whine escaped him, his head burying deeper into the warmth. It was ridiculous how just Taehyung’s scent could make him feel so utterly pathetic.

He hooked a leg around the blanket, caging it tightly between his thighs. If the bed was this unmade, and the smell still this strong, then Taehyung had slept here last night.

Jungkook frowned at the realization. “Why the fuck didn’t you sleep with me?” he muttered into the blanket, his voice laced with quiet accusation. “You promised you’d hold me all night…”

A pause.

“…Or maybe you did, and I just don’t remember?”

His eyes fluttered shut, drifting back to flashes from the party—the chaos, the tension, before the night took them to the bathroom.

His lip sank between his teeth as the memory hit. Taehyung’s large hand gripping his throat, controlling every breath. Taehyung grinding down on his erection with a knee, with his foot. Forcing him to choke on his cock. Manhandling him. Fingering him mercilessly, calling him his pretty whore

A moan slipped out, his hips grinding unconsciously against the blankets. His eyes flew open, blinking rapidly as the weight of his breath thickened.

“Fuck” he cursed under his breath, forcing himself to sit up. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to stay in this bed, not with Taehyung’s intoxicating scent everywhere, or he’d end up humping a pillow out of sheer desperation.

Back in his room, Jungkook grabbed his phone from the nightstand and decided to call, desperate to figure out where the hell Taehyung had gone. He tapped the first contact in his favorites list and waited for the line to ring.

The irritating beep echoed in his ear, then cut off. Jungkook’s heart skipped, hoping to hear that deep, honeyed voice he longed for… but his face fell when a woman’s voice came on instead:

“The person you are calling cannot answer the phone right now. Please leave a message after the beep.”

He hung up and immediately hit redial, nervously toying with the piercing on his bottom lip.

“The person you are calling cannot—”

“Fuck you” he growled, cutting the call short. “Kim Taehyung, you better pick up your damn phone” he muttered, redialing yet again.

“The person you are—”

It was the ninth time now. That same annoying automated message over and over again. He hung up with a frustrated grunt and raised his hand, ready to smash his phone against the floor—only to freeze at the last second, remembering he couldn’t afford a new one.

With an irritated sigh, he shifted and tossed the phone onto the bed. It bounced once on the mattress and still managed to fall off the edge, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Jungkook let out an exasperated growl. “For fuck’s sake, where the hell is he?! Who the fuck does he think he is, just disappearing without saying a word and then having the nerve to ignore my calls?”

He began pacing, anger spilling from every step. “I swear, when I find him I’m gonna—”

He stopped mid-rant, frozen in place. Eyes unfocused, staring into nothing for a second, before lifting his arms in defeat. “Calm the fuck down, Jungkook. You’re losing your mind” he muttered to himself.

“Taehyung probably just went out to… get groceries or whatever.”

He nodded a little too hard, then bent down to pick up his phone, flipping it over as he inspected the screen for cracks or scratches, quietly hoping he hadn’t damaged it in the process.

The rest of the day dragged on in a blur of boredom. Jungkook roamed the apartment like a ghost haunting an abandoned house, eventually making his way to the kitchen to fill the hollow pit in his stomach. After that, he collapsed onto the living room couch, flipping through TV channels until he landed on the weather report. The overly enthusiastic weather woman chirped about sunshine and humidity, and Jungkook mumbled a tired “shut up” before switching off the TV altogether.

By the time 2 p.m. rolled around, Jungkook was seriously starting to worry. He checked his phone for what felt like the hundredth time that day—still nothing. No calls. No texts. No signs of life from the one person he was desperate to hear from.

Once again, he wondered where Taehyung could be. And wherever he was, what the hell was stopping him from checking his damn phone and seeing all the missed calls and spammed messages?

“Asshole. Just wait till you get back” Jungkook muttered under his breath, furiously tapping out a new message on his keyboard before hitting send.

His eyes stayed glued to the screen until a terrifying realization hit him like a punch to the gut. What if something actually happened to Taehyung?

Jungkook found himself biting nervously at his lip ring again, his mind spiraling toward worst-case scenarios. Maybe Taehyung had gone to the store, crossed the street carelessly, and gotten hit by a car. Or worse—maybe he’d been kidnapped in the middle of the night, which would explain the chaotic mess his bed was in. Though that seemed a bit far-fetched.

He was yanked out of his spiraling thoughts when his teeth bit down too hard on the metal ring, making him flinch. His bottom lip started to quiver as a sudden sting of tears welled up in his eyes. That small pain tipped him over, cracking the dam of something much heavier pressing on his chest.

He hated this feeling. And he hated Taehyung for making him feel it.

The weight in his chest only grew heavier when he realized that he could do nothing but wait. Uselessly waiting, with no idea where Taehyung had gone. Powerless. Helpless. And silently hoping nothing bad had happened to the one person he cared about the most.

Jungkook felt incredibly stupid for never having asked for Namjoon’s number. The chance that Taehyung might be at his place wasn’t impossible and even if he wasn’t, Jungkook was sure Namjoon would know something.

Then suddenly, a spark of hope lit in his chest as he remembered the news he’d recently learned; Namjoon and Hoseok were dating. And Jungkook did know where Hoseok lived.

A short breath of laughter escaped him, the rush of fresh hope coursing through his veins. All he had to do was visit Hoseok, maybe Namjoon would be there too. If not, he’d ask for his number, or maybe Hoseok himself would have an idea of where Taehyung could be.

Without wasting another second, Jungkook rushed to the front door, grabbing his heavy combat boots. He shoved one foot in, hissing through his teeth and groaning as he tried to force the other on. Only now did he realize this was probably a terrible idea, these boots were slow to put on, and he didn’t have a second to waste.

But just as he was mid-jump, grumbling under his breath, he heard a key turn in the lock.

Jungkook froze instantly, eyes locked on the door in uncertainty. For a brief second, his brain went into full panic mode. What if it’s the kidnapper? What if the guy who took Taehyung is back… and now he’s here for me?!

The door swung open completely, and there stood Taehyung, who immediately frowned at the bizarre sight before him. Jungkook hunched over in a tank top and sweatpants, one boot fully on, the other half-jammed in.

They both stared at each other in complete silence.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, clearly on the verge of asking what the hell he was witnessing but before he could get a word out, two strong arms crashed around his neck in a suffocating hug, knocking the breath out of him.

“Where the fuck were you… you asshole” Jungkook murmured low against his skin, burying his face into Taehyung’s neck, greedily breathing in that scent again.

“I was at the gym… like every Saturday” Taehyung answered hesitantly, patting awkwardly at Jungkook’s back, confused why it felt like he’d just returned from war and Jungkook was welcoming him home.

Jungkook leaned back slightly, his arms still wrapped tightly around Taehyung’s neck as his features twisted into a scowl, brows furrowing tight. “You hit the gym for seven hours straight?”

“Grabbed a drink with Seojoon after,” Taehyung replied casually.

Jungkook forced himself to ignore the weird knot tightening in his stomach at the mention of Seojoon—Taehyung’s gym buddy and longtime friend.

“You left early this morning,” he pointed out, his voice low. “I woke up at eight and you were already gone.”

Taehyung blinked. “Yeah, I left at seven. Again… like every Saturday.”

“Yeah, except unlike every other Saturday, you were at a party just a few hours before” Jungkook shot back, narrowing his eyes.

“I’m not gonna change my whole routine just because of some dumb party” Taehyung replied flatly.

“Of course not. God forbid you act like a normal person and just enjoy a cozy weekend for once.”

Now it was Taehyung’s turn to frown. “Alright, what’s your problem?”

“What is my—” Jungkook scoffed, staring at him in disbelief. “My fucking problem is you disappearing since this morning and not answering your damn phone once. Making me worried for your stupid ass.”

“Well, I didn’t ask you to worry for my stupid ass.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you just picked up your stupid phone that suddenly seems fucking useless too.”

“I just didn’t feel like checking my phone, okay?”

“Right, because you were oh so busy having fun with Seojoonie-hyung” Jungkook said, deadpanned, mocking his tone at the end with exaggerated sarcasm.

Taehyung frowned, feeling completely thrown by Jungkook’s sudden shift in attitude. He opened his mouth to respond but paused, sighing instead and rolling his eyes as he looked away.

He could still feel Jungkook staring at him. Feeling that unwavering, burning gaze. So he exhaled again and turned his eyes back to him. “Fine, I’m sorry I—”

Jungkook’s soft lips suddenly pressed against his, cutting off the words before they could land.

Taehyung froze, caught entirely off guard, brain short-circuiting as the kiss bloomed suddenly between them. His hands twitched at his sides before drifting slowly toward Jungkook’s waist, hesitating, uncertain if he should push him away or just surrender.

But the second his large hands grazed the curve of Jungkook’s waist, caging him in, a soft whimper escaped against his lips. Jungkook’s arms tightened around his neck in response.

And that was it. That damn sinful sound.

It shattered every wall Taehyung had, pulling him under.

He kissed him back, harder, more desperately. Their lips crashed together with raw intensity as he tugged Jungkook’s bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it until another whimper slipped out.

“Was fuckin’ worried” Jungkook mumbled between kisses. Taehyung only grunted in response, one hand gripping harshly at his ass, shoving their hips together until their crotches collided. Heat erupted between them like a spark catching fire, and Taehyung knew exactly where this was heading if he didn’t stop it now.

He’d told himself he would end this stupidity. That they needed to go back to how things were before. That this thing between them had gone too far already.

But all those promises and self-control evaporated the second Jungkook touched him. It was always like this. He felt like the one caught in Jungkook’s claws, always giving in at the slightest pull, the softest sound. Each sinful moan from this pretty boy pushed him deeper into the abyss.

Jungkook’s tongue slid into his mouth, their tongues tangling shamelessly in a heated rhythm, until it was all broken by the loud slam of a door behind them.

Taehyung immediately pulled away, turning his head toward the noise, only to lock eyes with their wide-eyed neighbor.

ah

The poor man froze, clearly caught off guard by the scene he'd just walked in on. Jungkook followed Taehyung’s gaze and noticed him too. Now, two pairs of eyes were staring at the man like he was the intruder—when in reality, he’d only stepped out of his apartment to grab some carrots for his wife.

“H-Hello, Taehyung-ssi” he finally said in a small, uncertain voice.

Jungkook stiffened in his arms, immediately realizing they’d been caught. A nervous laugh slipped from his lips before he shoved Taehyung back slightly, putting a respectable amount of distance between them.

“Hi, Mr. Lee! How are you?” he greeted quickly, his voice a little too high-pitched.

Oh, so that’s his name, Taehyung noted absently, giving a faint nod in acknowledgment

“I’m doing well, thank you,” the old man replied with a small smile before quickly looking away, clearly embarrassed.

Taehyung was finding the situation unbearably awkward and judging by the look on Jungkook’s face, he felt the same.

“We, uh… we were testing a new way to greet each other as bros. Hehe” Jungkook blurted out.

Idiot, Taehyung thought, eyes rolling so hard he was sure they were going to get stuck. He questioned Jungkook’s stupidity for the hundredth time because sure, Mr. Lee was old, but not that naïve. No one in their right mind would believe such a ridiculous excuse.

And besides, he’d already told Jungkook, their neighbors either knew or at the very least suspected exactly what was going on between them. There was no point in denying it anymore.

Still, out of politeness—or perhaps sheer awkwardness—Mr. Lee let out a nervous laugh and nodded, mumbling “I-I see… interesting.”

“Yeah…” Jungkook muttered, eyes dropping to the floor.

Taehyung couldn’t stand another second of this. Without saying a word, he bent down, grabbed his gym bag from where he’d dropped it after Jungkook had ambushed him with that kiss, and walked back into the apartment, no longer paying attention to either of them.

He still heard Jungkook’s soft, sheepish chuckle as he apologized and said goodbye to the neighbor, right before Taehyung slammed the bathroom door shut behind him.

He stripped off his clothes, desperate for a long, well-deserved shower. But just as he was about to pull off the last piece of clothing, the door creaked open behind him. He turned instantly, only to be met with Jungkook’s big, innocent-looking eyes, far too pure for someone with such a twisted mind.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung said calmly, “if you don’t mind, I need to shower.”

Jungkook only blinked before slowly stepping toward him, blatantly choosing to ignore the words Taehyung had just spoken.

Taehyung frowned, immediately taking a cautious step back, then another, desperate to keep distance between himself and this demon dressed like an angel.

But the bathroom offered no eternal escape. His back hit the sink, the cold edge pressing into him, and his hand gripped it tightly as Jungkook closed the last bit of space between them.

“Jung—” Taehyung drew in a breath when he felt Jungkook’s palm land gently on his stomach, the younger’s cold fingers tracing the soft ridges of his abs with featherlight touches.

Jungkook’s body inched closer, eliminating the space between them completely before capturing Taehyung’s lips again in a slow, tender kiss. It was unhurried but deep, full of silent hunger. Jungkook pushed forward a little more each time their lips met, and Taehyung found himself tilting his head slightly, chasing a better angle despite himself.

Taehyung’s hands stayed clutched to the edge of the sink, refusing to let go and pull Jungkook in by the waist, even if every fiber of his body wanted to. It was already enough that he was letting the younger kiss him without fighting it.

And he hated how hard it was to stop. To just push Jungkook away. Maybe it was because this wasn’t the version of Jungkook he was used to. Jungkook didn’t kiss him unless his cock was inside him. Affection was reserved for when they were fucking—never outside of it, never without a reason.

That’s why, now, he wondered if maybe Jungkook had changed. Maybe that emotional breakdown in the car yesterday had miraculously made him less sex-deprived, and more affectionate.

Unfortunately, that fragile little theory shattered the moment Jungkook’s hand began to slide lower.

His fingers trailed past Taehyung’s navel, tracing the line that disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxers. His touch moved down with painful slowness, knuckles brushing the sensitive skin just above his crotch. Jungkook’s hand hovered there, dangerously close, before his fingers ghosted over the bulge beneath the fabric.

Taehyung couldn’t help the reaction. His semi twitched in anticipation, pressing lightly against the fabric, betraying him instantly.

Despite the desire burning through him, Taehyung forced himself to pull away from Jungkook’s lips, growling his name in a low warning tone. But Jungkook only smiled against his skin, nuzzling his nose into the crook of his neck before leaving soft kisses there. His hand was just about to grope him when Taehyung grabbed his wrist tightly, halting his movements, only the tips of Jungkook’s fingers grazing the obvious tent in his boxers.

“Stop,” Taehyung said, eyes dark with seriousness.

“But I wanna suck you off,” Jungkook murmured, almost as a question.

“And I said no,” Taehyung replied firmly.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, his mouth twisting into a sulky pout. “Please… I missed you, hyung.”

Taehyung laughed but the sound was sharp, dry, and completely devoid of humor. “You missed me? Or you missed my cock?”

Silence fell between them.

Jungkook looked down, clearly thinking hard about his answer. After a brief pause, he looked back up and said, “Well… isn’t it the same? So, both, I guess.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched so tightly it felt like it might snap under the pressure. His hands moved to grip Jungkook by the shoulders, and he gave a tight, joyless smile.

“Both, huh?” he repeated.

Jungkook nodded quickly, pupils dilating slightly. He’d really just said that. This needy little shit had the nerve to admit, without hesitation, that Taehyung only mattered to him for his own pleasure.

“I think what you really missed,” Taehyung said, still gripping his shoulders as he slowly pushed him backwards, “was the feeling of being filled. Is that filthy, needy hole of yours aching for my attention?”

Jungkook let out a soft moan, letting himself be guided back without resistance.

“I bet you haven’t stopped thinking about me that way. Counting the seconds till I returned, just to have me inside you again.”

Jungkook parted his lips to reply, but Taehyung cut him off, demanding coldly, “Did you touch yourself?”

“A-Almost,” Jungkook admitted, his voice small and sheepish.

“Almost?” Taehyung stared at him like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His tight smile faded completely, replaced by a dark expression shadowing his sharp features. He finally let go of Jungkook’s shoulders and crossed his arms over his bare chest instead.

Jungkook blinked, confused, only to realize Taehyung had pushed him out of the bathroom without even noticing.

“Well, I’m not in the fucking mood to be your personal sex toy,” Taehyung hissed coldly. “If you’re that desperate to get off, go hump a pillow like the desperate bitch you are.”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped at the words, stunned, before letting out a disbelieving laugh. “What the fuck are you on about?”

Taehyung rolled his tongue against the inside of his cheek, biting back the outburst that threatened to explode. He wanted to spit in Jungkook’s face, to scream that he was sick of being treated like nothing more than a body to use. But he was honestly too tired for that now.

He just wanted to take his shower and rest.

“Fuck it” he muttered. “Jungkook, you just don’t know how to take no for an answer.”

Jungkook scoffed. “Your ‘no’ sounded like more than just a no. If you had a shit day, it doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me.”

So now Jungkook had decided to blame this on Taehyung’s mood? On his 'bad day'? Which, funnily enough, had actually gone just fine. His little outing with Seojoon had helped him clear his mind, helped him forget, just for a little while, the only thought that had been occupying him lately.

And that thought was none other than Jeon Jungkook.

Taehyung reached for the bathroom door “You done?” he said, voice sharp as it cut through the tension. “Can I finally take that damn shower?”

“Yeah, fucking take your stupid shower” Jungkook snapped back.

“Good.” Taehyung was just about to slam the door when he saw Jungkook turn away, only for the younger boy to whip around suddenly, blurting out, “wait—no wait!”

“What now?” he hissed through clenched teeth, his annoyance thick in his voice.

“Stop being so fucking rude” Jungkook growled, fists clenched at his sides. Then he paused, closing his eyes for a second and raising his hands like he was mentally scolding himself.

When he opened them again, his expression had shifted—calmer, more collected. “I just wanted to say I’m gonna make us dinner. And maybe… if you want, we could watch a movie after?” His fingers fumbled nervously with the hem of his shirt. “Since yesterday’s movie night was replaced by the party, I thought maybe we could do it tonight instead.”

Taehyung stared at him for a long moment, his gaze scanning the younger boy from head to toe before scoffing lightly. “Sure. Whatever.”

Jungkook only nodded, mumbling a quiet, “Good” before finally turning and heading toward the kitchen.

Taehyung exhaled slowly, his grip tightening on the wooden doorframe. He was supposed to say no, should have told him to screw off and gone to rest alone after his shower.

Jungkook didn’t deserve a single second of his time tonight.

If only his heart didn’t beat this damn hard for him… he could’ve turned him away without a second thought.

“Fuck him and those stupid adorable puppy eyes” he growled under his breath, then slammed the door harder than he meant to.

The slam of the door echoed through the apartment, making Jungkook flinch as he was preparing the ingredients. He scoffed, shaking his head as he muttered “The hell is wrong with him…”

About half an hour later, while Jungkook was stir-frying chicken and vegetables in a pan, Taehyung walked into the kitchen, inhaling deeply as the rich smell hit him, so delicious it nearly made his mouth water.

Taehyung stepped in close, stopping just behind him. Jungkook could feel the heat of his body against his back, the air between them practically crackling. His hand slowed over the pan, breath catching as anticipation pooled in his stomach. Taehyung’s warm breath brushed the back of his neck, and Jungkook swore he could feel his gaze burning into his skin. He half-expected to be pulled in by the waist, his neck peppered with kisses, soft praises murmured into his ear for the dinner he’d made them.

But none of that happened.

Taehyung just stood there, motionless, eyes glancing into the sizzling pan. Then his gaze shifted to the counter, where a bowl of dakgalbi was already plated. He made his way over and reached for a piece of chicken, eager to sneak a taste but before he could bring it to his mouth, a sharp slap landed on his hand.

The piece of chicken dropped back into the bowl.

Frowning and rubbing his assaulted hand, Taehyung looked over at Jungkook, who continued tossing the food in the pan without sparing him a glance.

“That’s my plate,” Jungkook said flatly.

Taehyung rolled his eyes and raised his hand to his mouth again, planning to lick the sauce off his fingers only for Jungkook to suddenly grab his wrist, eyes locking onto his with a firm glare.

“What? It’s your sauce?” Taehyung asked sarcastically, mocking his overly serious tone.

“Exactly,” Jungkook replied, dead serious.

Taehyung let out a short laugh at that. “You’re not gonna die if I lick a few drops of sauce off your damn plate,” he said, trying again to bring his fingers to his mouth.

But Jungkook yanked his wrist back, keeping his hand out of reach. “I won’t,” he said matter-of-factly. “But your tongue might if you taste from my dish, it’s spicy as hell.”

Taehyung froze for a second, blinking. Then he swallowed hard and let his arm drop, suddenly having zero interest in tasting the food anymore.

Jungkook felt less resistance in Taehyung’s stance now and with ease, he pulled the older boy’s hand closer to his mouth.

Without breaking eye contact, he wrapped his lips around Taehyung’s fingers, letting them slide between his warm, wet mouth. His tongue slipped between them, teasing slowly, as his dark eyes held Taehyung's frozen stare.

And then, Jungkook pushed forward. Deeper. His lips kissed the base of Taehyung’s fingers, and his throat tightened with the sudden intrusion. He gagged slightly at the sensation but didn’t pull back.

They both knew by now that Jungkook had a thing for choking.

When he finally pulled back, the slick, obscene pop that followed echoed through the kitchen. Taehyung’s fingers were completely soaked, dripping with Jungkook’s spit.

Jungkook smirked proudly.

“There. Got rid of the danger for you,” he said casually, turning back to the stove to stir the food a few more times before turning off the flame.

He let out a low hum, almost a purr, the sound vibrating with mischief as he reached for a bowl. He served a portion of the non-spicy portion for Taehyung, then quickly set the table and sat down.

Picking up his chopsticks, he waited patiently.

“You planning to stand there all night, hyung?” he asked, tilting his head with an innocent voice that didn’t match the glint in his eyes.

Taehyung blinked, finally seeming to return to reality. He slowly turned his head toward Jungkook, who met his gaze with a knowing smile, lifting a piece of chicken to his mouth and placing it on his tongue with a deliberately sensual slowness.

Taehyung tilted his head, somewhere between disbelief and amusement, before finally moving from his frozen spot and sitting down across from him.

They began eating in silence, the charged air between them thick with everything left unsaid.

Taehyung kept his eyes on the delicious meal in front of him because damn, Jungkook’s cooking never failed to impress him.

Meanwhile, Jungkook hadn’t looked away from him once, watching with quiet admiration as Taehyung chewed in obvious satisfaction, pride swelling in his chest. But then his pout returned, lips pressing together as he replayed what had just happened between them.

Taehyung had seemed… distant. Not in the mood to play along with Jungkook’s teasing, which was unusual. Normally, he dove in headfirst.

So Jungkook blamed it on exhaustion and also on Seojoon who’d insisted on going for drinks with his roommate.

Suddenly, like lightning striking out of nowhere, a vivid memory hit Jungkook in the middle of chewing. He choked a little and instinctively kicked under the table, his foot connecting squarely with Taehyung’s shin.

“Ah, fuck!” Taehyung groaned, doubling over to clutch his leg. “Fuck, fuck—fucking shit, Jungkook, what the hell!” he hissed, eyes squeezing shut as pain radiated through his entire body.

“You deserved it for what you did yesterday!” Jungkook snapped, pointing an accusing chopstick at him.

“What?” Taehyung asked, genuinely confused, racking his brain for what the hell he could’ve done to earn a shin-breaking kick.

Jungkook leaned forward, eyes narrowed in indignation. “You fucked me in front of people, Taehyung. They heard us—fuck, they heard us,” he repeated, horror written all over his face as he dragged his hand through his hair, seconds away from ripping it out from the embarrassment alone.

Taehyung sighed and dropped his forehead to the table with a dull thud, going completely silent for a moment as the pain in his leg slowly subsided. Then he finally looked up, dark eyes serious.

“No one heard us.”

“They did! You told me to moan for you. In front of them! And I… I screamed!” Jungkook accused, then visibly cringed at the memory.

Taehyung burst out laughing. That kind of low, amused laugh that made it sound like they were trading funny stories instead of recalling his sexual humiliation. That only made Jungkook's blood boil hotter, while a deep blush crept across his pale cheeks.

“It’s not funny, you dick,” Jungkook growled, kicking under the table again but this time, luckily for Taehyung, he hit a chair leg instead of his shin.

“Alright, enough kicking!” Taehyung warned, sighing. “I told you, no one heard us. I’m not that crazy.”

Jungkook glared at him, shaking his head. “I don’t believe you.”

“They were already gone,” Taehyung finally admitted with a casual shrug, raising an eyebrow. “I heard them leave. But you were so fucking lost in the pleasure, you didn’t even notice. So I, let you think they were still there.”

Jungkook stared at him, completely floored. “Why… why the fuck would you do that?”

Taehyung shrugged casually, stirring the food in his bowl. “It was hot. And from what I remember, you fucking loved every second of it, so don’t start kicking me now just to hide your nasty kinks.”

Jungkook scoffed, eyes dropping to his bowl, the flush on his cheeks darkening to crimson. “Not true,” he muttered.

They silently agreed not to push the topic any further as they finished their meal.

Jungkook was the first to get up. He walked over to the sink to wash the dishes, cleaning all the cookware he’d used to make dinner.

A few minutes later, Taehyung followed, placing his bowl in the sink and leaning in close to murmur a quick, “Thanks for dinner,” right by Jungkook’s ear. Then just as quickly, his body was gone, leaving behind a lingering warmth that made Jungkook scrub the same bowl a little too aggressively, heart pounding like mad in his chest.

“So,” Taehyung called out from behind him, cracking open the fridge, “what’s the movie for tonight?”

Jungkook paused, he hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Truth was, he didn’t care about the movie at all. As long as Taehyung stayed and they could spend time like this, it was more than enough.

He ended up shrugging. “What about we rewatch Spider-Man?”

“Spider-Man?” Taehyung repeated, arching a brow before nodding slowly. “Works for me.”

While Jungkook finished up cleaning the kitchen behind him, Taehyung popped some popcorn, deciding it would be more than enough for a post-dinner snack since they’d just eaten.

Soon enough, they were curled up on the couch, comfortably seated with the bowl of popcorn resting on Taehyung’s lap. They both reached into it as the movie played. And even though it was a rewatch, fifth or sixth, maybe—Taehyung looked surprisingly invested, like it was his first time watching it.

Jungkook, on the other hand, began to lose focus around the halfway mark. Not because of the movie, he loved Spider-Man and could watch every version a thousand times without getting bored—but because he slowly realized he wasn’t really in the mood to sit in front of a screen.

Not when something infinitely more interesting and unfairly attractive was sitting right beside him, munching loudly on popcorn, completely unaware of how distracting he was.

But Jungkook remembered Taehyung was tired. And he hadn’t seemed in the mood earlier, so he bit back the temptation, shifting slightly and trying to focus on the screen again.

That resolve lasted maybe ten more minutes before his fingers began to twitch at his sides, itching to touch him. It wasn’t desperation but something more… like his body was magnetized. The more Taehyung brushed him off, the stronger the pull became, as if every rejection only tightened the invisible string between them.

Taehyung, still fully focused on the film, was about to grab a handful of popcorn when Jungkook suddenly took the bowl. He assumed the younger was just shifting it onto his own lap, but frowned when Jungkook placed it down on the coffee table instead.

“Uh—” Taehyung started, only to go completely still when Jungkook swung a leg over him and straddled his lap without warning. His thick thighs settled on either side, caging Taehyung in as he lowered himself with ease, making himself comfortable right on top of him.

Taehyung swallowed hard the moment he felt the press of Jungkook’s ass, warm and heavy, right against him.

Jungkook leaned in slowly, arms wrapping around his neck, the background noise of the movie fading into a distant hum.

“Jungkook”

“Yeah?” came the soft reply, as Jungkook nuzzled into his neck, breathing him in. The faint scent of soap and Taehyung’s natural musk filled his senses, and it made his eyes flutter shut as he pressed a kiss to his skin.

“Not again,” Taehyung sighed, his voice already sounding tired.

“Why not?” Jungkook’s lips trailed upward to his jaw, where he bit down gently, just enough to tease. “Why don’t you want me, hyung?” he whispered against his skin.

“I already told you why,” Taehyung replied, the edge of frustration creeping in. “So don’t ruin another night just because you’re horny.”

“It wouldn’t be ruined,” Jungkook murmured, lips brushing the shell of his ear, “if you’d just let go.” His hot breath sent a shiver down Taehyung’s spine. “Remember how you had me yesterday?” He smiled when he felt him tense. “I want that again. Rough. Like you couldn’t help yourself.”

“I’m not fucking you.”

The rejection came sharp, cold—and Jungkook’s expression faltered. His lips parted with a small, wounded sound, but then he frowned, thinking.

What if this was one of Taehyung’s games?

He liked to play them sometimes. Maybe he was just pretending to resist, trying to get Jungkook desperate enough to beg on his knees again.

That had to be it.

Taehyung loved games like that, so it could explain why he was acting like this now.

Jungkook’s hips began to roll slowly, creating friction between their bodies that drew a low groan from both of them.

Embarrassment prickled at his skin when he felt how quickly he was getting hard, his cock swelling against the tight fabric of his briefs, the growing pressure already uncomfortable.

But if that’s what Taehyung wanted to see, then Jungkook wasn’t going to hold back. He lifted his pelvis slightly, just enough to break the contact, then dropped it back down harder, grinding deliberately. His ass pressed down against Taehyung again, dragging over the bulge he could feel beneath him.

Taehyung let out a strained moan at the direct contact.

“Please, hyung…”

“Jungkook, get off,” Taehyung murmured, his voice barely steady.

He’s holding back

Why the hell is he holding back? Jungkook thought, watching the way Taehyung’s jaw clenched and his gaze flickered, full of restraint and something heavier underneath. Like touching Jungkook—wanting him—was something he wasn’t allowed to have.

Frustration bloomed in Jungkook’s chest, raw and hot, as his hips began to move faster. His grinding turned frantic, the motion erratic, almost like he was bouncing in his lap, lost to the heat surging through him. The layers of clothing between them made it worse. He whimpered, every drag of fabric against his aching cock making it more unbearable.

Then Taehyung’s hands shot out, grabbing his hips roughly and stopping him mid-motion.

“No—please don’t stop this, Tae,” Jungkook whined immediately, his breath shaky as his fingers curled around Taehyung’s shoulders. “Please…”

But when he looked down, locking eyes with Taehyung, something inside him twisted.

There was no teasing, no heat behind his stare, only restraint. Cold and resolute.

Taehyung meant it when he said he didn’t want this.

“Why?” Jungkook whispered.

“Do I really need a reason for not wanting to fuck you?” Taehyung replied coolly.

“There’s obviously a reason.”

“Oh yeah? You that sure about it?”

That made Jungkook falter, just for a second. Taehyung looked so calm and unfazed, that it almost made him question everything he thought he knew. But he caught himself quickly, because he remembered one thing: Taehyung was a damn good liar. And also, he could feel his erection pressing up against him.

“More than sure,” Jungkook replied confidently. “You’re not gonna convince me otherwise when I can literally feel how badly you want me.” He rolled his hips once again, grinding into him, creating another friction that drew a quiet hiss from Taehyung.

“What? You mean the fact that I’m hard for you?” Taehyung asked with a smirk, no shame in his voice whatsoever.

Jungkook didn’t look away. He nodded firmly, holding Taehyung’s gaze like a challenge.

Taehyung chuckled.

Then in the next second, he shoved Jungkook back into the couch, hovering over him, close enough for Jungkook to feel his breath when he muttered, “It doesn’t take much to get hard when a bitch in heat’s dry humping you. Don’t flatter yourself.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, a growl rising in his throat. “I’m not a bitch in heat.”

“Of course you aren’t, Jungkook,” Taehyung said with sharp sarcasm, his tone like a knife.

His name sounded wrong coming from Taehyung’s mouth.

It hit Jungkook in the chest like a sting. When was the last time Taehyung called him bun? Now that he thought about it, not once. Not since he came back. And just like that, his suspicions felt even more valid.

There was something going on. And Taehyung was hiding it.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me? Why do you automatically think I’m the problem?”

“Because you’re the one acting like a total asshole right now.”

Taehyung let out a short, bitter laugh. “And I wonder why I’m acting like this.”

“You’re not seriously trying to pin this on me, are you?” Jungkook asked, his brows drawing together in a tight frown.

“Well, look at that—you’re finally starting to think with your brain instead of your dick.”

Jungkook pushed himself up on his elbow, eyes dark and unwavering. “What’s so wrong about wanting you? Because if I remember correctly, you had no problem fucking me like a madman last night when I asked you to use me.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched. “Yeah, well turns out all I did was give you exactly what you wanted, and I’m the one who ended up feeling used.” His voice was sharp, breath brushing Jungkook’s face as their noses almost bumped.

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing this whole time? Using each other?”

“No!” Taehyung said, voice rising in disbelief as he pushed himself off the couch. “Do you even know what it means to use someone?”

“Don’t act like you’re about to teach me something I already know.” Jungkook shook his head and sighed. “Why the fuck are we even talking about this like it’s something serious?”

“Because it is! I’m not using you, unlike you.”

Jungkook stood up too, now chest-to-chest with him. “So tell me, what’s the difference between you and me?” He tilted his head slightly, one brow raised in defiance. “We’ve been kissing, fucking, whatever—whenever both of us wanted. So what exactly makes your case any different from mine?”

“I don’t want to explain it to you, but I know for a damn fact it’s different for me. I don’t need your approval to validate that.” Taehyung turned his gaze away, afraid Jungkook might read the truth in his eyes.

Jungkook scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “Right, of course. When it’s you, it’s different. Go ahead, paint me as the villain in this story.”

Taehyung snapped his eyes back to Jungkook, his gaze turning sharp and judgmental as he scanned the furious tension in the younger’s face. “You’re still completely closed off,” he muttered calmly, his tone suddenly distant. “You barely accept yourself, and yet you expect me to lay myself bare for you, throw my vulnerability at your feet, knowing damn well the only thing I’ll get in return is pain.”

Jungkook’s expression faltered, his anger collapsing into sheer confusion. His brows drew together as he blinked at Taehyung, completely lost.

“Huh?”

“See—” Taehyung started, but Jungkook cut him off with a wild guess.

“Wait. You’re talking about the fact that I’m still confused about my sexuality?”

“What!?” Taehyung said, completely thrown off.

“That’s gotta be it,” Jungkook said, like he’d just solved the equation behind all the chaos. “You think this is different for you, and that you’ve got the moral high ground because you’re openly gay, which somehow gives you the freedom to use me without being the bad guy.”

Taehyung stood frozen for a moment, utterly dumbfounded. That was possibly the most absurd, stupid thing he’d ever heard come out of Jungkook’s mouth. His jaw clenched as his eyes swept across Jungkook’s face—from his lips to his eyes, from his furrowed brows to his tense jaw, like he couldn’t believe those words had actually come out of his mouth. “You think this is about labels? About who gets to be the fucking victim?”

His eyes burned into Jungkook’s. “I’m not asking you to slap a flag on your chest. I’m asking you to stop hiding behind your confusion like it gives you the right to treat me like I’m disposable.” He scoffed under his breath before adding, “Fucking idiot.”

That snapped something inside Jungkook. His expression darkened, eyes flaring as he pointed a finger at Taehyung’s face “I’ve told you a million times to stop calling me an idiot!” he shouted, his voice rising in pitch with frustration.

“Then stop acting like one and fucking get the hint!” Taehyung barked, slapping his hand away from his face.

“What motherfucking hint?!” Jungkook snapped, throwing his arms in the air in exasperation. “You say this isn’t about labels, yet all this bullshit started yesterday when—yes, without thinking—I made one stupid comment. I apologized. So when the hell are you going to let it go and move the fuck on?”

“Because it’s not something you just forget overnight,” Taehyung fired back. “You can apologize all you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that you said that shit out loud, without a second of hesitation.”

“I was scared!”

“Well, guess what, I was scared too!” Taehyung shot back, eyes wide. He inhaled sharply when he saw Jungkook fall completely silent. His heart was pounding erratically in his chest, the kind of panicked thumping that made it feel like it might just stop from the weight of all their arguing—like he was strapped into an endless roller coaster with no way off.

“You think I always accepted myself?” he asked, his voice softer now. “The day my ex outed me in front of the entire school, you think I was ready to face all that? That I was confident enough to just deal with it?”

Jungkook just stared at him, his tongue lightly pressing against the inside of his cheek.

Taehyung shook his head, laughing bitterly. “I was fucking terrified. So terrified I wanted to disappear. And I don’t mean that as some dramatic metaphor.” His voice cracked as it dropped into something barely above a whisper.

“But even through all of that, I held on. I took the slurs, the stares, the comments… and I got through it. I learned how to accept myself for who I really am. No need to hide anymore. And I sure as hell don’t need to act homophobic in front of everyone just to protect myself or hurt someone else in the process.”

“i’m not–”

“Yeah, whatever,” Taehyung cut him off coldly. He didn’t want to hear it. Jungkook’s responses never had anything to do with what he was actually trying to say anyway.

Jungkook exhaled deeply, running a hand through his long hair, pushing it back before letting his arm drop, his strands falling messily over his face again. Taehyung expected him to give up on the conversation, maybe fed up with everything, but instead, he was caught off guard by a soft yet firm:

“You’re annoying.”

Taehyung’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“You’re fucking annoying,” Jungkook repeated coolly. “Do you even realize the drama you’re stirring up over something as stupid as a hookup? It’s ridiculous.”

Before Taehyung could think, his hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of Jungkook’s hoodie and yanking him forward by the collar. Jungkook stumbled into him, thrown off balance by the sudden movement.

“You got a goddamn death wish?” Taehyung hissed through his teeth, face inches from his.

“Am I wrong?” Jungkook replied, raising an eyebrow as he grabbed Taehyung’s wrists to pry him off.

“You just keep pushing and playing,” Taehyung scoffed, voice tight. “Like none of it means anything to you. Fuck it—acting like a fucking whore with zero boundaries, it’s starting to seriously disgust me”

Jungkook felt something twist sharply in his chest. He hadn’t expected it. Of all the insults, all the ways Taehyung could’ve chosen to lash out, that one word struck him clean through.

Disgust.

Taehyung said he was disgusted by him.

How the hell did they even get here?

All the moments leading up to this—every second of that night that had promised to go well—evaporated in an instant, blurring out like none of it had ever happened. But Jungkook’s brows slowly drew together in a frown as the realization hit him. Maybe this night was never meant to end well.

He never should’ve asked Taehyung to watch a damn movie with him.

They wouldn’t be standing here now, spitting venom at each other, if he had just shut his mouth and let Taehyung rest after his shower, like he always did after long days spent outside.

But instead, they were here. At each other’s throats. Surrounded by anger and confusion so thick it clung to their skin.

And the worst part was, Jungkook burned with it.

He was burning in that hatred, could feel it churning like poison in his stomach, rising up his throat like bile. His brain couldn’t think clearly anymore, there was no room left for reasoning, no vision of them sitting down and talking things through like civil human beings.

That option had vanished.

And with that, his mouth moved faster than his mind.

“You act surprised that I keep playing, like this wasn’t a fucking game from the start,” he snapped, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “How many times do I have to say it—this was never as serious as you made it out to be.”

It was Taehyung’s turn to be taken aback now. His hand dropped from Jungkook’s hoodie and he took a step back as if the words had physically hit him.

“You’re making this whole damn fuss about how I need to accept myself or whatever—but what if, at the end of the day, I just go back to who I was before all of this?” Jungkook snapped, voice low and cruel. “Did you even think about that? That maybe I’m straight after all and you were just… just another fucking experiment? Just another hookup?!”

Stop. Stop. Stop. Please stop.

His heart screamed in panic but his mind didn’t listen. His mouth moved faster than his thoughts, spitting poison straight into the face of the person standing in front of him.

Taehyung stared at him in stunned silence, his eyes wide, lips slightly parted in disbelief.

“Don’t you ever call me a whore again,” Jungkook snarled, taking a step closer. “Not when you’re just as desperate for me as I am for you.”

“Maybe you played hard to get today, acting like you could resist temptation, but don’t make me remind you how many times you were the one begging for my attention. You were the one asking for cuddles before bed, craving for affection like your damn life depended on it.”

“You, Taehyung, were the one clinging to me every fucking day, whether I was studying in my room or making us breakfast, you were always draped all over me.” His voice cracked, the rage giving way to something more broken as he continued, breath hitching “You’re such an… y-you… w-why the hell are you crying?”

Taehyung blinked rapidly, only then noticing the warm, wet streaks rolling down his cheeks. He scrubbed at them with frantic hands, as if trying to erase the evidence of his pain.

Jungkook just stood there, watching him with his mouth slightly open. The sight of Taehyung, so raw and vulnerable, cut through the noise in his head, grounding him instantly. The haze of anger lifted just enough for clarity to trickle in.

And then the weight of his own words hit him.

Holy shit—fuck, not again.

“Hyung”

“I can’t even hate you,” Taehyung whispered, voice barely audible as another wave of tears rolled down his cheeks, soaking his already-wet skin.

“That’s not what I—”

“What!?” Taehyung growled, cutting him off. “That’s not what you meant? You spoke without thinking? You were scared—what’s your fucking excuse now, huh? I’m so fucking done hearing you spin in circles like a broken record. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

His voice trembled with the last bit of strength he had, every word weighed down by exhaustion. It was all over his face, how tired he was, how much this had drained him.

Jungkook watched helplessly as Taehyung turned away, head down, walking off quickly like he needed to escape him at all costs. The further he got, the blurrier Jungkook’s vision became, his eyes stinging as tears started to collect and distort everything around him.

Then, for the second time that night, the slam of a door echoed through the silence of their apartment.

Jungkook collapsed backwards onto the couch, eyes wide and fixed on the nothing in front of him. He blinked once. Twice. And on the third, the dam finally broke, silent tears streamed down his face, heavy and slow, carving wet trails across his cheeks.

Taehyung leaned against the door before slowly sliding down to the floor. His breath came out ragged, chest rising and falling in a desperate struggle against the weight of despair. The tears kept falling, pouring out with no end, until his shoulders jolted with a sudden, broken shudder. A small, strangled sound escaped his throat, nearly smothered, then another, rougher, more raw. And then he broke.

Everything crashed down on him again, Jungkook’s words echoing mercilessly in his head like mental torture. He pressed the palm of his hand over his mouth to muffle the pathetic sounds spilling out of him because it was all too much. The pain was overwhelming, and he had no one to blame but himself.

He was the idiot who ended up catching feelings for the other idiot. It had just been sex in the beginning—clearly, that’s all it ever was for Jungkook. But Taehyung had fallen into the illusion, letting himself get tricked by all the tenderness between them. He’d hoped, stupidly, that maybe Jungkook would return his feelings someday.

But Jungkook had made it painfully clear that love was never on the table.

He kept crying until the weight of the day finally hit him like a wall. Eventually, he forced himself to stand, dragging his feet toward his bed before collapsing onto it. His head sank into the sheets, and he closed his eyes.

They snapped open again the moment he caught a faint scent that didn’t belong to him. He propped himself up, staring at the white sheets in the dark, blinking as the dried salt on his skin made his face feel stiff and tight. Then he let his head fall back into the soft fabric and took a deep breath.

Bergamot.

It was faint, but Taehyung recognized the fresh scent that always lingered around Jungkook.

He bit his bottom lip, guessing Jungkook had probably come into his room and laid on his bed while he was gone. The thought almost made him laugh, disbelieving and bitter. It was always things like that, those stupid little details, that made him fall deeper every time.

Taehyung got up the moment he decided there was no way he was sleeping in a bed that still smelled like Jungkook. He dressed quickly and threw a few essentials into his backpack, grabbing his phone just as the screen lit up to show it was nearly midnight. His thumb hovered as he scrolled through his contacts until he found Namjoon’s name.

A heavy sigh came through the line when the call connected, followed by a groggy, “Hello?”

“Can I come over?” Taehyung asked straight away.

There was a pause, then the rustle of sheets as Namjoon shifted in bed, followed by a grunt. “I’m not home.”

“And I have your spare key,” Taehyung replied flatly.

“Yeah, whatever. Make yourself at home. I’ll be there tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. Thanks” Taehyung said softly.

“Tae, wait” Namjoon cut in before he could hang up.

“What?”

“You okay?” There was a clear note of concern in his voice.

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Taehyung replied, a small, unconscious smile tugging at his lips, wanting to ease Namjoon’s worry.

“Mmh. Fine. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah… sorry for cockblocking you, by the way,” Taehyung added quickly.

“Screw you” Namjoon chuckled before hanging up.

Taehyung let out a quiet laugh as he glanced down at his phone, but his smile disappeared the moment his eyes landed on his lockscreen—a close-up of him and Jungkook, both smiling ridiculously, carefree and happy, faces pressed together.

Then the screen went black, the darkness of his room swallowing him again.

He slung the backpack over one shoulder and grabbed a cap, pulling it low over his head. He paused, listening for any sound in the apartment, but sighed in relief when there was nothing. Jungkook must’ve gone to sleep. That gave him the perfect chance to slip out quietly, without a word, and finally… in peace.

✩｡:*•.─────

Jungkook exhaled deeply before pressing the doorbell. He looked up as the chime echoed inside the house, taking in the sight of the place from his angle, still struck by how big it was, no matter how many times he'd been here.

The door opened with a soft creak, drawing his attention back to the front where Hoseok stood, blinking in mild surprise before offering a small smile. "Hey?" he greeted, clearly not expecting him.

“Hi…” Jungkook said softly.

"Come in," Hoseok replied without hesitation, pushing the door open wider to let him in.

Jungkook gave a slight bow of thanks before stepping inside, already familiar with the layout as he made his way to the living room.

"You want something to drink? I was about to make myself some coffee anyway," Hoseok offered casually from behind him.

"Uh, no thanks... just a glass of water’s fine," Jungkook mumbled, his eyes wandering across the space. The living room looked different in the daylight—modern, sleek, and unusually calm. Usually, it was drowned in the dark, lit only by the flashing lights of parties and the blur of movement. But now, the strong morning sun poured in through the large windows, bathing the room in a soft, golden warmth.

Jungkook allowed himself to sit comfortably on the couch while waiting for Hoseok to return. His fingers tapped absently on his lap, the tendons shifting beneath the thin layer of skin. A faint frown curved his lips as he tried to figure out how to explain why he was here without diving too deep into the truth. He trusted Hoseok, but not enough to tell him that for the past few months, he and Taehyung had been tangled in something intensely physical… and that three days ago, it had all exploded in a terrible fight.

Three days. Three days since Taehyung left, and Jungkook still had no idea where he’d gone.

The day after that chaotic night, Jungkook had woken up with a jolt, dazed and unsure of what was real. His legs moved on instinct, carrying him to Taehyung’s room, only to find it empty. For a brief moment, Jungkook genuinely believed that everything that happened the night before had just been a nightmare, a cruel hallucination conjured up by his mind.

So he carried on with his day in quiet denial, like it was any normal Saturday morning: eating breakfast, reviewing a few notes for upcoming exams, and then zoning out in the living room, flipping through channels mindlessly.

All the while, he ignored the weight in his chest. That heavy, aching pull that told him something was wrong.

Of course, his delusion shattered the moment he looked at his phone and realized two things. First, it was Sunday—not Saturday—meaning the party had been two nights ago. And second, Sunday was about to bleed into Monday as the clock neared midnight.

It was almost midnight, and Taehyung still hadn’t come home.

Jungkook couldn’t stand it. He was willing to respect Taehyung’s boundaries and keep his distance, but that didn’t mean Taehyung could just disappear without a word, without even letting him know where he might be.

Still, he held himself back. Maybe Taehyung just needed time away from him which, again was understandable. So Jungkook forced himself to go to bed. It was hard, but he managed, convincing himself that he’d wait a week before going to look for him, if there was still no news.

And that’s the promise he made to himself before finally falling asleep that night.

Well, the fact that he was now sitting in Hoseok’s living room waiting for him to return proved clearly that he had failed to hold up his own promise, he had cracked after just two days.

He needed to know where Taehyung was.

At that moment, Hoseok returned with a coffee mug in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Jungkook took the glass from him with a quiet thank you before settling back into the couch.

Hoseok took a sip of his coffee, then turned toward the younger with a raised brow. “So? What brings you here?”

Jungkook kept his eyes on the water in his hands, his teeth gently tugging at the ring on his lip piercing.

“Well… it’s a lot more complicated than it looks and honestly way too long to explain. But it is kind of urgent. Even if—at the same time—it’s ridiculous that I came all the way here just to ask you something so small. I guess it just proves how desperate I am—”

“Jungkook,” Hoseok cut in, placing a hand on his thigh, which had been bouncing non-stop since he started talking. “Breathe.”

Jungkook gave a small nod, consciously letting his shoulders drop and trying to relax.

“Good. Now just tell me what you need. No need to ramble yourself into a knot,” he said with a small, encouraging smile.

Jungkook inhaled before asking softly “Could I get Namjoon’s number? I need to ask him something about Tae.”

“Namjoon?” Hoseok frowned slightly, then his expression shifted as realization dawned in his eyes. “Did something happen between you and Taehyung?”

Jungkook winced. “Kind of… I don’t know where he is. It’s been three days now. I’m worried.”

At that, he noticed Hoseok subtly shifting in his seat, his fingers nervously tipping his mug from side to side. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed at the gesture, sensing unease.

“You know where he is, don’t you?” Jungkook guessed, finally lifting his gaze to study Hoseok’s profile.

Hoseok froze for a second before locking eyes with him again. Still, he didn’t speak.

“He’s at Namjoon’s, isn’t he?” Jungkook pushed, trying to pull answers from his silence. “He was. Two nights ago,” Hoseok finally admitted. “I don’t know if he’s still there now.”

Then he extended his hand toward him. Jungkook frowned, glancing down at the outstretched palm, then back up to his face. “Your phone. Didn’t you say you wanted Joon’s number?” “Oh.” Jungkook nodded quickly, digging his phone out of his pocket and placing it in

Hoseok’s waiting hand. He tapped the screen twice, and it lit up. “Oh” he said, surprised, his eyebrows lifting as he turned his head toward Jungkook.

“What?” Jungkook muttered, glancing away, well aware of what Hoseok had just seen: the photo of Taehyung on his lockscreen. Behind him, the Eiffel Tower sparkled against the night sky.

“Cute lockscreen you got there,” the brunette teased with a smirk, turning the screen toward himself and tilting the phone slightly.

“whatever”

“when was this”

“On his birthday,” Jungkook replied quietly. “I surprised him with a four-day trip to Paris.”

Hoseok gave a low whistle, murmuring under his breath “You don’t do that for just anyone.”

Jungkook pretended not to hear, keeping his eyes fixed on the phone. Taehyung’s wide smile aimed at the camera tugged at something deep inside him—reminding him of that unforgettable trip filled with nothing but laughter, late-night strolls, and just them, cut off from the rest of the world.

He bit the inside of his cheek when he felt the tight ache in his chest, nostalgia hitting too suddenly, the urge to cry rising with it.

If only they could go back to that moment, and stay there forever.

“Jungkook?”

He blinked. “What?”

“I asked if you could unlock it,” Hoseok repeated.

“3012,” Jungkook mumbled, giving the passcode before realizing something.

Hoseok typed the numbers slowly, then glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “Taehyung’s birthday…” he noted, lips pressed tightly together, like he was holding himself back from saying more.

“How do you even know that?” Jungkook felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Hoseok and Taehyung weren’t even close, so how would he know that about him?

“He is my boyfriend’s best friend,” Hoseok shrugged. “And Namjoon always freaks out a few days before his birthday, trying to find the perfect gift.”

Jungkook only hummed in response, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his head there, arms wrapping tightly around his legs. “Tell him he can ask me next time. I’d be happy to help.”

“That’s sweet of you,” Hoseok chuckled lightly. “And it might save me from dealing with his pre-birthday stress meltdowns.”

Jungkook smiled faintly, then whispered “Anything for Taehyung.”

The moment the words left his lips and echoed into the quiet room, Jungkook immediately sank his teeth into his knee, his entire body overheating under Hoseok’s curious gaze.

Thankfully, the older man said nothing. He simply turned his attention back to the task at hand, navigating to his contacts and adding Namjoon’s number to Jungkook’s phone.

Hoseok finished and handed the phone back to him, asking gently, “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

Jungkook nibbled on his lip in hesitation.

“No judging,” Hoseok reassured him.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“From the beginning?” he offered with a small smile.

Jungkook opened his mouth, then closed it again before burying his head between his knees with a groan. “No, it’s too embarrassing.”

Hoseok noticed the tips of his ears turning red and smiled widely. He had a strong feeling about what 'the beginning' might be, and was just about to tease him when the sharp slam of the front door cut through the moment.

Both boys looked toward the entrance to the living room, where Namjoon stepped in, shrugging off his jacket.

“Hi babe—” he paused mid-motion when his eyes met Jungkook’s.

“Hey, we have company,” Hoseok said casually, as if his boyfriend wasn’t already staring at their guest with a completely blank look. “Jungkook was just—”

The hairs on Jungkook’s arms stood on end the second Namjoon’s eyes turned dark. And before he even had time to understand what was happening, Namjoon stormed toward him full force, spitting out, “Fucking piece of shit.”

Hoseok immediately jumped to his feet and blocked his path, pushing him back.

“Joon, what the fuck?!” he grunted as Namjoon kept trying to get past him, his eyes still locked on the boy just a few feet away.

Jungkook scrambled backward on the couch, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. His wide eyes stared in stunned horror, panic surging through his veins and urging him to run.

“You proud of yourself, asshole? Got what you wanted, you fucking prick!” Namjoon spat, ignoring Hoseok, who growled at him to calm down.

It didn’t take Jungkook long to understand what this was about, and just as fast, tears welled up in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out, not even knowing why he was apologizing to Namjoon in the first place.

“Keep your fucking apologies to yourself. I don’t give a damn,” Namjoon barked.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook repeated softly, the tears finally spilling over as his hand gripped the couch beneath him, his body shaking uncontrollably.

Namjoon was furious. Jungkook had never seen him like this before, and it fucking terrified him. Because if Namjoon was acting this way, then Taehyung must not just be sad… he must be completely shattered.

Taehyung was hurting because of him.

“Namjoon, shut the fuck up before I give you a punch that'll shut that loud mouth of yours real quick!” Hoseok shouted now, gripping his boyfriend’s shoulders tightly.

“You don’t get it, Hobi! This asshole hurt him. Do you even know the state I found him in?”

Taehyung was in pain because of him.

“He could barely get the words out between the sobs,” Namjoon said, eyes wide, his voice cracking into a higher pitch as the memory of Taehyung crying in his arms resurfaced, soaking his shirt and repeating like a broken mantra that it was stronger than him, that he loved Jungkook.

Taehyung sobbed because of him.

Jungkook’s breathing quickened as his mind dragged him back to that night—the night they argued. He saw Taehyung’s tear-filled eyes, stunned, staring back at him while Jungkook’s own cruel words echoed in the background. Words he’d give anything to take back.

“That’s no excuse to lose your damn mind and charge at him,” Hoseok shot back, pointing at him. “You didn’t even let him explain his side of the story!”

“Like hell I care about his version!” Namjoon barked, whipping his gaze back to Jungkook, who was now staring at the floor, chest clearly rising and falling in uneven rhythm. “I already knew what his intentions were.”

“You must be so damn pleased with yourself. Got what you wanted, satisfied your ass, then threw Taehyung away like garbage.”

Jungkook choked out a weak, “No…”

“Don’t fuck with me!”

Jungkook flinched at the volume of his voice.

“I said that’s enough!” Hoseok shoved Namjoon back with a firm push to his chest.

“What the hell’s your problem?” Namjoon growled, redirecting his fury onto his boyfriend. “And what the fuck is he doing here? Came crying to you so he could play the victim, is that why you’re defending him?”

“Now you’re just talking bullshit,” Hoseok snapped, shaking his head. “You know I’m not like that, so don’t—”

But Hoseok’s voice slowly faded in Jungkook’s ears, replaced by the deafening sound of his own heartbeat hammering against his ribs. His trembling hand reached up to his left side and pressed lightly against it, feeling the erratic rhythm pulsing beneath his fingertips.

Why did he feel like this?

It was as if he’d cast himself as the victim in a story he had no right to own, as if he were the one misunderstood. But the ache in his chest was so sharp, so overwhelming, he truly believed it might kill him.

And yet, he had no right to this pain. Not when Taehyung had gone through far worse, things Jungkook hadn’t even witnessed, but knew. All he had to do was close his eyes and picture those almond-brown eyes, swimming behind a curtain of tears, staring back at him like he was a stranger. Eyes that, just weeks ago, had looked at him full of love.

A sudden, brutal dizziness stole the air from his lungs. The ground felt like it had vanished beneath his feet, though he hadn’t moved an inch. His vision blurred, his temples pulsed in a frantic rhythm, and fragmented memories began to flash, shattering and overlapping in his mind.

He saw Taehyung lying next to him in bed, laughing softly, his eyes crinkling as his smile lit up the room and pierced straight through Jungkook’s chest.

And then, he saw himself.

Saw himself spitting poison right into that same face, while Taehyung cried silently, taking each word like another knife straight through his heart.

fuck there’s no way…

A ghostlike sensation of large hands wrapped around his waist. A warm breath grazed his ear, whispering that he was obsessed, that just the sound of his voice drove him insane. Taehyung. But then it twisted. The whisper curdled into a growl, thick with hatred, echoing disgust and stupid whore over and over in his mind like a curse he couldn’t shake.

Jungkook opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His vision remained foggy, and he couldn’t ground himself despite sitting down. He tried to focus on his surroundings, but all he could hear was Namjoon still yelling, arguing with Hoseok.

He couldn’t catch the exact words, just the volume and sharpness of their voices, slicing through him like glass and doubling the panic already clawing at his insides. The anxiety consumed him, feeding off the chaos.

But none of it—none of it—hurt more than the sudden, merciless realization that finally settled in his chest:

Taehyung loved him.

Through the blur of his vision, he saw dark, wet stains bloom across his lap, heavy drops of tears soaking into his jeans, turning the denim a deeper shade where they landed.

Taehyung had loved him so deeply, he would’ve handed Jungkook his whole heart, if only Jungkook hadn’t been so fucking oblivious.

Again, the night played out in his head, looping over and over, but this time he saw it differently. With new eyes. And suddenly, everything made sense. Taehyung’s words weren’t cryptic anymore. They were obvious. So fucking clear that Jungkook could almost laugh at how simple it was.

Even a child would’ve understood. But not him. He hadn’t seen it.

And that alone proved Taehyung had been right all along.

Jungkook was stupid.

In the end, Taehyung was right to leave.

Jungkook didn’t deserve him.

And maybe—maybe it was better if it stayed that way.

Better to keep his distance.

Better to disappear, if it meant sparing Taehyung any more pain

But that decision stirred something deep inside Jungkook as his heart started pounding again, like it was trying to escape his chest. The mere thought of never seeing Taehyung again, of not having him by his side, made him feel sick, the nausea rising in his throat.

So he didn’t even dare imagine what a life without Taehyung would truly look like.

Though his mind was kind enough to remind him of just how selfish and cruel he had been—using Taehyung for nothing more than his own pleasure—his heart knew that wasn’t the full story. There was no way he could believe that what they had was just sex, just flesh.

There had been so much more. It was deeper than physical attraction. More raw than desire. Taehyung had never been just a body, he was… “the man I love” Jungkook finally whispered to himself, barely audible, as if saying it too loud would shatter the fragile hold he had on the storm of emotions spiraling inside him.

He loved Taehyung

Taehyung loved him, and he loved him back.

Jungkook’s bottom lip trembled.

I love him, and I ruined everything, he thought, as his tears doubled, spilling relentlessly until it felt like his entire body was being drained.

“Jungkook!” a voice screamed beside his ear, hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

“Taehyung,” Jungkook whispered, breath catching. “T-Tae…”

“Jungkook, please, look at me!”

He heard the words. He understood the plea.

But his body wouldn’t move. He was frozen in place, like time itself had halted. Why couldn’t he move? Panic tore through him, ramping up his breathing until it spiraled into hyperventilation.

Taehyung—was it really Taehyung?

Had he come back after finally understanding everything Jungkook had been too scared to say? Was he here to fix what had shattered between them? To start over? They should start over. They had to.

But his heart, it wouldn’t hold out much longer. It had been beating too hard for too long. It was going to give out, he could feel it.

No, not now.

Not when he had finally understood what he felt. Not when he was ready to look Taehyung in the eyes and scream I love you. For God’s sake, why wouldn’t his body cooperate?

And just as he tried to focus on the voice—the only thing that was keeping his head above water in the middle of his own spiraling thoughts, it started to fade. That voice slipped away again, melting back into the fog and making his panic even worse. He wanted to scream, but the mere thought of it made his throat tighten.

He was choking.

No, he was drowning.

His skin prickled, blood rushing away from his head in a dizzying wave. The room tilted slightly, then sharply, and the hum of everything, light, sound, breath—faded into silence.

The last thing his mind gave him before it let go was the image of Taehyung, staring at him with empty eyes.

✩｡:*•.─────

“We can’t keep this, we have to tell him.”

“No. There’s no way I’m letting him be around Taehyung again.”

“You need to stop acting so damn biased.”

“And you need to stop pretending like you know the whole story when you know jack shit.”

“Look who’s talking,” someone scoffed, followed by a low mutter, “let me remind you that you only know part of the story, so don’t act like you’re in any position to judge the whole situation.”

“Well, the part I do know is already more than enough, believe me.”

“Namjoon, you’re seriously starting to piss me off with your childish behavior. Jungkook just had a panic attack, and you’re still treating him like shit.”

“Treating him like shit” Namjoon repeated the words with fake amusement. “So what, he faints and I’m just supposed to forgive him for the way he treated my best friend?”

“Maybe the fact that he reacted like that should tell you he didn’t do it on purpose,” Hoseok snapped, clearly fed up.

A sigh echoed through the room. “You want to know the first thing he asked me the day we met up?”

“How to get Taehyung to fuck him. Fuck him, Hoseok. Are you starting to get what I’ve been trying to tell you, or should I also add that he said he wasn’t even gay? But I think you already know that part, since you saw with your own eyes how he acted the night Junseo humiliated him at the party.”

“I’m not going to base everything off that,” Hoseok said, calmer now. “Even if all of it does look suspicious and makes it seem like Jungkook just played with Taehyung’s feelings, it’s still way too vague. And about that night, you said it yourself, Junseo humiliated him, in front of a whole crowd. Just imagine how Jungkook must’ve felt at that moment.”

His hand gently cupped Namjoon’s cheek.

“He must’ve been terrified. Maybe he’s just now figuring all this out. Remember how scared you were to hold my hand when we first started dating?”

Namjoon couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “Yeah” he said softly.

“That’s why I’ve been trying so hard to get you to understand. And, I don’t even know if he’s realized it yet himself, but…” Hoseok leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a whisper, “he’s deeply in love with Taehyung.”

Namjoon frowned. “How do you know that?”

“Just thirty minutes with him and his eyes told me more than a full-on confession ever could,” Hoseok chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

A soft whimper drew their attention. They both turned toward the bed just as Jungkook stirred, his brows furrowing in a way that made his entire face look adorably troubled. Hoseok started to step forward but paused, turning to jab a finger at Namjoon’s chest.

“Behave,” he warned, raising a brow.

His boyfriend rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

“Taehyung…” Jungkook mumbled, curling his arms tighter around his pillow.

Hoseok shot a sidelong glance at Namjoon, who returned it in silence. “What did I tell you?” he lifted an eyebrow knowingly.

Jungkook blinked as he tried to open his eyes against the harsh light in the room. When he finally managed to adjust, the first thing he saw was Hoseok’s face leaning over him.

“Hi there. How are you feeling?” Hoseok asked gently.

Jungkook blinked again, then winced slightly as a dull ache pulsed through his head. “Uh… I think I… What happened?” he asked, pushing himself up to sit against the headboard.

“You had a panic attack. Then you passed out,” Hoseok explained calmly. “Do you remember any of it?”

Jungkook stared silently at his lap, watching his fingers fidget with each other.

“Yeah,” he said quietly as the memories of the overwhelming panic came rushing back. Then he looked up—and froze when his eyes finally locked with Namjoon’s, only now realizing he was also in the room.

Hoseok noticed him stiffen and quickly placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said with a small smile. “I already tamed the big bad wolf.”

He heard Namjoon scoff in response, muttering something under his breath, but neither of them paid it much attention.

“Where is he?” Jungkook mumbled, then swallowed hard when two confused looks turned toward him. “Taehyung. He… he was here. I saw him?”

His last words came out more like a question than a statement as he began to doubt what he’d seen. Hoseok shook his head with a slight frown. “No. He wasn’t here. It’s just been the three of us.”

“oh”

A silence fell

“You sure you’re okay?” Hoseok asked again, just to be sure.

Jungkook nodded slowly, his mind still spinning with all the thoughts from earlier. But then he paused, and suddenly shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. “I miss him,” he whispered.

Hoseok cooed softly before slipping into the bed next to Jungkook, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to pull him into a gentle embrace. Jungkook let his head fall onto Hoseok’s shoulder and allowed his tears to flow freely. He wasn’t sobbing, it was more of a soft, quiet crying, just enough to let his aching heart breathe a little.

Namjoon turned his eyes away from the scene, which looked painfully similar to when Taehyung had cried in his arms.

“I…” Jungkook began, biting his tongue. Hoseok’s hand rubbed his back in a soothing, encouraging motion. “I love him,” Jungkook finally whispered.

Namjoon’s head snapped back toward them.

“Yeah?” Hoseok asked with curious interest and a small smile.

“Yes.”

“Since when have you been aware of those feelings?”

“Today. Right before I fainted, I… I don’t know if it was the panic or something else, but it just hit me like a realization. It felt so real, like there’s no other explanation. I—”

Hoseok hummed, cutting him off gently, not wanting Jungkook to spiral back into overwhelming emotions that could damage his mental state again.

“And who’s to say it’s love and not just desire?” Namjoon said, stepping closer to the bed.

Ugh for fuck’s sake Hoseok thought with a tight smile, shooting a dark glare at Namjoon to silently tell him to shut the hell up and not push it too far. He felt Jungkook tense up in his arms before gradually relaxing again.

The question hung in the silence of the room, suspended like a heavy weight. Then Jungkook drew in a breath.

“It was a desire at the very beginning,” he admitted honestly, eyes still cast downward. “But I swear—please believe me when I say it’s not just that anymore. I love him, hyung. I know it’s hard to believe, that I hurt him. I made him suffer and I deserve every ounce of this pain I’m feeling, but I can’t take it anymore. I need him.”

He swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he continued.

“I used to think it was just a pull, just attraction, but it can’t be only that if all I want is to spend every day with him. Playing games, eating, watching our dumb movies, or even doing nothing at all—I don’t care, as long as he’s there with me. I don’t want to be the reason for his pain anymore. I want to be the reason he laughs. The reason he smiles, just like he’s become mine.”

He lifted his head and locked eyes with Namjoon, fear and courage clashing in the shimmering tears behind his gaze.

“I need him… p-please, bring Taehyungie hyung back to me—” A small hiccup escaped his lips, catching him off guard. His face quickly flushed a soft shade of rose, the blush spreading across his cheeks and down his neck like wildfire.

Hoseok let out a warm chuckle, the sound soft and affectionate. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile a little in response before being pulled into an even tighter hug, his head tucked firmly against Hoseok’s chest.

“We’ll fix this, Koo. Don’t worry.”

“How?” Jungkook murmured, his voice muffled against Hoseok’s shirt.

“It’s simple, you’re both going to sit down, talk like responsible adults, and then you’ll date.”

“Date…” Jungkook repeated the word dreamily, his fingers nervously toying with the fabric of Hoseok’s t-shirt.

“God, you’re way too cute, I could just eat you up,” Hoseok growled as he grabbed Jungkook’s face, squishing his cheeks until his soft pink lips puffed into a cute fish-like pout.

Jungkook frowned. “m’not cue, lesh go.”

“Hobi, that’s a grown-ass man. Let him go,” Namjoon said flatly.

But Hoseok only gently shook Jungkook’s head side to side, grinning “Promise me you’re going to fix things with Taehyung.”

“prfomiz” Jungkook mumbled through squished lips.

“Good, because from what little I saw at the party, you two looked fucking adorable together, and I wanna see more.”

“No cue,” Jungkook muttered again in a sulky voice.

“cutie”

“Alright,” Namjoon said, stepping closer. He grabbed Hoseok’s wrist and pried his hands off Jungkook’s face, causing the younger to slump back against his chest from the sudden loss of support.

“It’s great that we’re jumping to the fluffy part all of a sudden,” Namjoon continued, “but let me remind you that it’s not as simple as it sounds.”

“What are you talking about?” Hoseok frowned. “Like I just said, he just needs to talk to Taehyung. What could possibly be so hard about that?”

Namjoon let out a dry chuckle and pointed directly at Jungkook. “He’s the one who has to do the talking.”

“Obviously,” Hoseok nodded.

“No,” Namjoon grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jungkook is a disaster when it comes to communication, especially when the topic is queer relationships.”

“I don’t believe that. I’m sure he’ll manage just fine.”

“Babe, trust me. I know what I’m talking about. He has a gift for making you want to strangle him when he refuses to understand the simplest things.”

Jungkook’s brows knit at that comment.

“Well then, we’ll help him. We’ll tell him exactly what he should say.”

“I hate how optimistic you always are.”

“And yet you love me to death,” Hoseok replied with a wide, proud grin.

“Uh, I’ll gladly accept your help with all of this,” Jungkook said, running his tongue along his lip piercing, “but I think you both forgot one important detail.”

They turned to him in question.

“Taehyung,” he said simply, before adding, “he’s not at home. He hates me and practically wants nothing to do with me anymore, so how am I supposed to even talk to him?”

“You go to Namjoon’s. He’s staying there—”

“No,” Namjoon cut in firmly.

“Joon,” Hoseok sighed.

“No. There’s no way I’m letting him into my place when Taehyung specifically came there to get away from him. That would feel like betrayal.” he said, crossing his arms.

Hoseok rolled his eyes before saying, “Then make Taehyung go back home so Jungkook has a chance to talk to him.”

“You want me to kick Taehyung out? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Not kick him out, just maybe suggest that it’s time he returns home.”

“He’s been there less than four days. I used to let him crash at my place for a month without saying a word. He’ll definitely feel rejected.”

“Well, you know what? I’m coming over to your place.”

Namjoon’s mouth clamped shut, then he blinked and shot him a confused look. “Um… okay? I don’t think he’d mind.”

“Oh yeah?” Hoseok raised a brow. “We’ll see how fine he is with it when it’s time to sleep.”

Jungkook choked on his saliva while Namjoon’s face flushed deep red. He coughed awkwardly, clearly flustered. “Yeah—uh, no, don’t worry. I’ll figure something out,” he rambled quickly.

“Good. Now, back to you,” Hoseok turned his attention back to Jungkook. “Show me how you’re going to win back your Taehyungie hyung’s heart.”

✩｡:*•.─────

“Thanks, hyung,” Jungkook mumbled, handing Yoongi the motorcycle helmet.

“No problem,” Yoongi replied, placing it into the storage compartment mounted on the back of his bike. “Next time, bring an umbrella when the forecast says the weather’s gonna be this shitty. I don’t want to see you miserably walking through the rain like that again.”

“It’s because—” Jungkook stopped himself before saying more, shaking his head slightly, eyes blinking as heavy raindrops fell onto his soaked face. “Thanks again.”

Yoongi revved the engine lightly. “See you after the weekend, in class,” he said before flipping down his helmet visor and raising a hand in a final wave. Then he sped off down the street, the sound of the bike quickly fading into the rain.

Jungkook stood there for a few seconds, watching him leave, his own hand still half-raised in a delayed wave. Eventually, he let it fall, clearing his throat before adjusting the strap of his backpack and turning toward his apartment building.

Inside the elevator, water dripped from his drenched hair onto the floor. He pulled out his phone, which he hadn’t checked all day, ignoring the few drops sliding down onto the screen. His thumb scrolled lazily through the notifications, skipping over unimportant updates and class group chat spam.

Then he stopped—his eyes narrowing as he saw a message from Namjoon, sent earlier that morning.

Namjoon
Are you in class?
We need to talk.

Jungkook frowned slightly, his thumbs moving over the keyboard as he started typing back, just as the elevator stopped at his floor and the doors slid open. He walked down the hallway toward his apartment door.

Jungkook
I was, yeah.
Just got home.

He didn’t expect Namjoon to respond right away—the message had been sent hours ago—so he slipped his phone back into his pocket and pulled out his keys.

Once inside, Jungkook let out a satisfied sigh as he tossed his bag to the floor and kicked off his boots. His nose scrunched up when he realized just how soaked he was from head to toe, his clothes clinging uncomfortably to his skin. Thankfully, Yoongi had spotted him and offered him a ride on his motorcycle—otherwise, Jungkook would’ve definitely ended up sick for two weeks. One, if he was lucky.

He couldn’t help but think about how he’d almost told Yoongi that it was usually Taehyung who drove them around. Jungkook, being the lazy type, still didn’t have his driver’s license. Not that he ever felt the need for one, he enjoyed being Taehyung’s passenger princess too much.

Taehyung. If only he knew how much more he haunted Jungkook’s thoughts ever since last week, ever since Jungkook finally realized his feelings for him.

After their little three-man meeting at Hoseok’s place, Jungkook had been feeding himself the false hope that everything would soon fall into place now that the air was clearer. But Namjoon had been right—it was more complicated than they thought.

Even though Jungkook now had his thoughts in order and kind of knew what he wanted to say, the one thing still holding everything back was the fact that Taehyung hadn’t stepped foot back home.

Namjoon was kind enough to send him occasional updates, saying he was doing his best, but he couldn’t push too hard or Taehyung might feel rejected—or worse, suspicious.

So Jungkook waited.

The exam period had helped him keep his mind busy for a while, but now that he’d taken his last one today, he could already feel the long, boring days stretching ahead to welcome him.

He shuffled into the kitchen and opened the fridge, checking if there was anything to snack on. He clicked his tongue and shut it again when he found nothing. He made his way out, heading now to the bathroom to finally get rid of his soaked clothes that were starting to feel heavy against his body.

But just as his hand touched the bathroom door handle, his body froze when he heard a noise behind him.

He turned his head slowly, casting a glance over his shoulder, straight toward Taehyung’s closed bedroom door. He hesitated, wondering if he had actually just heard something fall, or if his mind was playing tricks on him.

It was probably just his imagination. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if he started hallucinating things and sounds, considering how badly he missed Taehyung. Still, curiosity won over reason, and he figured taking a quick look inside wouldn’t hurt.

Jungkook walked toward the door slowly, heart thudding with anticipation, and gently pushed it open to peek inside.

Empty.

Of course it was empty, he thought with disappointment as he opened it fully and crossed his arms, eyes scanning the room for whatever noise might’ve messed with his head.

He finally spotted a book near the desk—open, face-down on the floor, its back cover slightly lifted. Several pages were folded or crushed under its weight. Jungkook walked over and picked it up from the ground.

“How the fuck did you fall?” he mumbled at the book, turning it over in his hands before placing it back on the desk, making sure it was centered and wouldn’t weirdly fall again.

He stepped out of the room with a small hum, only to freeze mid-step and glance down. “Shit,” he cursed, spinning on his heel and looking behind him.

Fucking hell. He was soaked from head to toe—what the hell made him think it was okay to traipse around the apartment like that, let alone inside Taehyung’s room? He spotted the faint patches of water he’d left on the wooden floor.

“Taehyung would’ve killed me if he saw this,” he muttered, twisting around, thinking of grabbing a towel from the bathroom to clean it up. He bent down to take off his wet socks, which were mostly responsible for the mess he was making. And because Jungkook was impatient as hell, he kept moving while doing it, slightly bouncing on one foot as he tugged the other sock off.

When the last sock came off, he grinned proudly and took one more step—

Only for his head to slam straight into a solid chest.

Jungkook groaned in pain, bending forward as both hands flew up to cover his face. “Fuck…”

His nose stung, a sharp wave of heat spreading across his temples. But the pain was quickly replaced by dread when he realized that he hadn’t just run into a wall.

It was a chest.

He swallowed hard and slowly peeked through his fingers, eyes dropping to see bare feet and bare legs standing right in front of him. He would’ve panicked if he hadn’t instantly recognized who they belonged to. There was only one person in the world who was literally perfect from head to toe, only one person who could somehow have feet that attractive.

Jungkook was still crouched like an idiot, bent forward with his hands over his face, completely frozen in place.

His courage was pitifully abandoning him, leaving him alone with his fear and clumsy panic.

This is bad.

Jungkook wasn’t ready to see him yet. He’d hoped for at least a bit of warning—something to prepare himself mentally. But now, he had no choice but to face it head-on, totally unprepared, and completely off-guard.

He took a light breath, closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again with new resolve before finally straightening up.

Jungkook’s knees nearly gave out—he would’ve dropped straight to the floor if it weren’t for the sheer shock and the way his heart kicked into overdrive.

It really was him.

Taehyung was actually standing right there in front of him. And Jungkook didn’t know if he wanted to cry from happiness or moan from sheer want when he saw that the only thing covering Taehyung’s body was a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. His defined V-line was on full display, practically taunting him, making his mouth go dry and water at the same time.

He mentally slapped himself. Now was not the time to get horny—not when they were about to have a serious conversation.

Though…

What fucking serious conversation could you possibly have with the man you’re in love with when he’s standing there practically served up like a damn five-star buffet ready to be devoured?

A sudden wave of secondhand embarrassment washed over him when he realized his eyes had been glued to Taehyung’s lower half. He’d practically been staring at his crotch without even noticing.

fuck

His eyes snapped back up in an instant. A bucket of ice-cold water might as well have been dumped over his head the second they met Taehyung’s glare. Cold and distant

It was like getting slapped in the face, his chest tightened, feet suddenly heavy with the weight of reality.

Jungkook cleared his throat, snapping out of his inner meltdown and looking at Taehyung with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Hi,” was all he managed to say.

A painfully awkward silence followed, stretching like thin ice about to crack.

Jungkook was already scrambling to figure out what to say next, but Taehyung beat him to it.

“Hey,” Taehyung replied flatly, brushing past him and knocking his shoulder into Jungkook’s on the way.

Jungkook winced at the impact.

The next sound he heard was the sharp slam of Taehyung’s bedroom door closing behind him.

Well, that went badly.

Jungkook blinked as he suddenly felt the urge to laugh nervously. Actually, it wasn’t that bad, could’ve been way worse. He nodded to himself, trying to reassure his pride with the idea that it was probably better this way. At least he didn’t have to carry out a full conversation while Taehyung’s skin was still exposed and wet from the shower he’d just taken.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked down at the new message.

Namjoon
just wanted to let you know Taehyung’s coming back today

Jungkook snorted. “And you’re telling me this now?” he grumbled, sending back a quick ok, not even bothering to explain that he’d already bumped into his damn best friend—naked—just seconds ago.

✩｡:*•.─────

The next morning, Jungkook walked into the kitchen and froze for a second when he saw Taehyung making eggs. His brain still hadn’t fully processed the fact that Taehyung was actually back, living under the same roof again

He composed himself quickly and forced his voice to sound as normal as possible. “Good morning,” he muttered, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Taehyung glanced over his shoulder with a blank look, the only sound filling the space being the gentle sizzle of eggs in the pan. His eyes flicked back to the stove as he mumbled a low, “Mornin’.”

Still cold. Damn it.

But that wouldn’t last.

Today, Jungkook was going to talk to him—clear the air, fix everything. And at least now Taehyung was fully dressed, which meant zero distractions.

He poured himself a bowl of cereal, occasionally stealing glances at the older boy who was now busy chopping green onions. Jungkook wanted to hug him so badly. Just wrap his arms around those broad shoulders, squeeze him tight, maybe even bite that thick bicep if Taehyung let him.

Taehyung finally finished the last step of his breakfast, grabbed his plate of steamed rice and eggs, and turned his head. Their eyes met. Jungkook’s throat went completely dry at the realization that he’d been caught staring.

Okay fuck, say something, Jungkook. Now’s your chance, just talk, fuck! a little voice in his head urged, borderline panicking.

But all Jungkook could do was stare at Taehyung in silence before quickly darting his eyes away. He grabbed the cereal bag and poured way too much into his bowl, the flakes piling high until they spilled over the edge and scattered across the counter.

“Shit,” he whispered, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Without a word, Taehyung turned around and walked away, taking his breakfast with him into his room.

Jungkook wanted to cry.

✩｡:*•.─────

“I can’t do it,” Jungkook whispered, chewing on the nail of his thumb.

“What do you mean?”

"I just... I can’t get the words out. Every time our eyes meet, all I can manage is a simple greeting. And then it’s just silence. I shut down. I can’t do it," he repeated, curling his legs up tightly to his chest as he folded into himself.

He heard Namjoon sigh softly on the other end of the line.

"So you’re telling me, since he came back, all you’ve said to him is 'hi'?"

"Yes."

“Fuck,” Namjoon sighed

“Sorry.”

“What—no. Why are you apologizing?”

“I don’t know. I guess because I promised you I’d fix things. I told you I’d make Taehyung happy again... There’s no progress.”

Namjoon went quiet for a moment before finally saying, “It’s okay, Jungkook. Don’t put that much pressure on yourself. I mean yeah, of course I’d love to see Taehyung be the way he was before… before whatever the hell started between you two. but that doesn’t mean you should destroy yourself with guilt or anxiety. If you’re not ready yet, don’t force it. Or you might end up messing things up even worse.”

“It’s not just anxiety,” Jungkook murmured, feeling tears begin to rise behind his eyes. He’d noticed he’d been on the verge of crying far too often lately. And he couldn’t help but wonder if Taehyung ever cried alone at night too, or if he’d already moved on.

“It’s more like… I’m too shy. And every time I see him, all I get back are cold stares—or worse, just the absence of him altogether.”

“That’s understandable,” Namjoon reminded him gently.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“What if you try getting closer to him without immediately jumping into apologies? Start by bringing up random topics, ease into a conversation,” Namjoon suggested.

“But—”

“I know it’s not going to be easy. I know Tae. When he decides to shut someone out, he does it completely, without the slightest bit of remorse. Honestly, you should be grateful he even still replies to your greetings,” Namjoon said, shifting in bed, probably propping himself up against the headboard.

“So what am I supposed to talk to him about?”

“Anything. It really doesn’t matter. Just don’t try to rehearse or script stuff ahead of time. The more pre-planned it sounds, the more likely you are to mess it up. Just go with what you feel. And for the love of God, think twice—no, five times—before you say anything.”

Jungkook let out a grumpy little noise, pouting at Namjoon’s last piece of advice. He knew he sometimes said dumb stuff without thinking, but it wasn’t that bad.

“And also,” Namjoon continued, “I’m not sure if I’ll regret telling you this, but… try speaking through your actions too.”

“My actions?” Jungkook echoed

“No sex” Namjoon warned flatly.

“I wasn’t thinking about that,” Jungkook snapped, frowning.

“You never know with you,” Namjoon muttered. “Anyway, when I say actions, I mean little gestures. Stuff that could mean something to Taehyung. Things that help him feel safe around you again, comfortable. you get me?”

Jungkook plucked at a loose thread in his bedsheet, thinking. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his brain already churning through Namjoon’s suggestion, trying to figure out what exactly he could do.

“Are you sure you understood me?” Namjoon asked, just to be certain. Because last time Jungkook had said yes, he’d ended up drawing a completely absurd conclusion.

“Yes,” Jungkook sighed. “like… hmm… I could give him a big bouquet of flowers.”

“Alright, see,” Namjoon snapped “that”

“What?!” Jungkook defended himself. “It’s sweet! And innocent!”

“Yeah, and it’s too much. You haven’t even properly apologized yet, and you wanna show up with a giant bouquet like you’re his husband or something.”

“Okay, what if it’s just one flower?” he offered again.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon groaned. “What did I just say about thinking five times before you speak?”

Jungkook pulled the phone away, stuck out his tongue with an exaggerated eye-roll like a bratty kid, then put it back to his ear with a theatrical sigh. “ what should I do then?”

“I don’t have an idea off the top of my head but—”

“Ha! So you wanna play expert but you’re just as clueless,” Jungkook scoffed.

“Yeah, well, remind me again which one of us is actually in a stable relationship?” Namjoon shot back without missing a beat.

“You’re mean,” Jungkook mumbled, sulking as he turned in his bed. “I want a stable relationship too…”

“You will have one,” Namjoon said gently, feeling like he was talking to a kid chasing after a dream. “Once you talk to Taehyung, and he accepts your apology—and maybe even wants to start something again with you.”

“What do you mean maybe?!” Jungkook suddenly shot up in bed, voice panicked. “You mean there’s a chance he’ll accept my apology but still not want to be with me?!”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replied calmly. “I’m not Taehyung, so I can’t give you a definite answer.”

“But he loves me, right?”

“I…” Namjoon paused, then finally said, “Yeah.”

“Then we’ll date.” Jungkook said, so confidently it nearly startled Namjoon.

“You’re really sure about that,” Namjoon replied, more amused than skeptical.

“Yeah,” Jungkook said without missing a beat. “Even if you end up being right and he doesn’t want anything more with me, I’ll make him change his mind. I’ll flirt with him and spoil him with whatever he wants, every fucking day, until he falls for me again and wants to be with me.”

Namjoon cooed at that. “Look at you, finally being loud and proud about your crush on him. You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” Jungkook tried to say seriously, but the stupid grin creeping up on his face betrayed him.

“You’re blushing,” he teased.

“shut upmpff!!” diving face-first into his pillow. His entire body burned with all these weird, fluttery emotions that tickled somewhere deep inside, leaving him lightheaded and warm.

Namjoon’s soft laughter echoed in his ear through the phone, wrapping around him like a hug.

“Stop laughing. Give me a second, I’ll find something to tease you back with,” Jungkook groaned into the phone.

Suddenly, his bedroom door swung open, making him jump. He looked up with wide eyes.

“You’ve got nothing—” Namjoon started, but he cut himself off the instant another voice broke in.

“It’s fucking two in the morning. Who the hell are you giggling with like that?”

Taehyung was standing in his doorway.

“I… uh…” Jungkook just stared, mouth hanging open.

“Don’t tell him it’s me,” Namjoon warned in a hushed voice.

“Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook blurted out.

“No, idiot—don’t give him a name!” Namjoon groaned.

“N-Nobody” Jungkook quickly corrected, not even realizing he had.

“Oh my god, this kid,” Namjoon sighed.

In the dark, Jungkook saw Taehyung’s brows furrow before he scoffed. “I don’t care who you spend your nights giggling with in that cute little voice. You’ve got a roommate trying to sleep next door, so either laugh quieter or not at all. Go to bed.”

“Man, he’s just as obvious as you are,” Namjoon commented, clearly amused by Taehyung’s words, but Jungkook didn’t quite register what he meant.

His head was spinning with only one thing, Taehyung was standing in his room. His eyes were locked on Jungkook’s and this time, they weren’t cold.
He couldn’t quite figure out the right word to describe them, but it was definitely different.

“Okay. Sorry,” Jungkook said quietly.

Taehyung stood there a second longer than necessary, his gaze never wavering, before finally exhaling and reaching for the door.

“Hyung, wait!” Jungkook called out quickly before he could leave.

Taehyung paused, half-turned.

“Can we talk?”

“Dude, it’s literally two in the morning,” Namjoon sighed in Jungkook’s ear.

“No. I’m tired,” Taehyung said flatly. “Keep chatting with your Yoongi-hyung or whoever.”

Namjoon snorted on the other end.

“Oh… okay. Good night.”

“Yeah. ’Night,” Taehyung muttered, finally closing the door.

“See,” Jungkook whispered with a pout, not wanting to trigger an angry Taehyung to storm back into his room.

“What else did you expect?” Namjoon replied calmly. “You asked him to talk in the middle of the night right after he told you to shut up and that he wanted to sleep.”

“damn it,” Jungkook groaned, wrapping his legs around his blanket. “The one time I finally get the courage to ask if we can talk, I pick the worst moment.”

Namjoon hummed. “Try again tomorrow. Bring up what happened tonight.”

“Okay,” Jungkook said, then bit down on his bottom lip to hold back a laugh, but the urge was too strong, and he ended up giggling softly, burying his face in the pillow to muffle the sound.

“What’s so funny?” Namjoon asked, confused.

“He talked to me,” Jungkook murmured dreamily.

“He scolded you,” he corrected.

“I don’t care. He actually talked to me. Like, full sentences. Not just one-word answers.”

“Mm, happy for you, I guess.”

Jungkook giggled again.

“Stop laughing before he comes back,” Namjoon warned.

“What if I want him to come back?”

“Don’t be a damn brat. Go to sleep,” Namjoon sighed. “I’m hanging up, I need my rest too.”

“‘Kay. Good night, hyung… and thanks for the advice,” Jungkook mumbled with a yawn as sleep finally started catching up to him.

“No problem. Good night,” Namjoon replied with a small smile before ending the call.

✩｡:*•.─────

Jungkook set the small plate of sliced apples on the coffee table before letting himself sink into the couch, his body melting into the soft cushions as he exhaled through his nose. His eyes drifted to the side, where he saw Taehyung typing away on his laptop, not once looking at him, or at the apples he’d brought and placed right next to him

Truth be told, Jungkook was just relieved to see him. He’d started to worry, wondering if Taehyung even remembered that their apartment had other rooms besides his own.

He hadn’t seen him all day—missed him in the morning, and the apartment had been empty ever since. Now, finally, he had a chance to talk to him, because by some miracle, the older wasn’t locked away in his room.

Jungkook folded his legs on the armchair, not fully aware his mouth had moved before he heard himself say, “Can we talk?”

Oh. So last night’s courage hadn’t entirely vanished after all.

The rapid tapping of Taehyung’s keyboard stopped as he lifted his eyes to glance at Jungkook, then looked away and resumed typing.

“Why?” he mumbled.

Jungkook almost whined, “Because we need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Taehyung—”

“Shut up, Jungkook. I’m trying to finish this assignment.”

“Please,” Jungkook pleaded. “We can’t just keep ignoring each other like this. It’s torture.”

Taehyung shrugged, not even looking at him. “Plenty of roommates go their whole lives without speaking to each other. I don’t see the issue.”

“We’re not like that,” Jungkook said firmly.

That’s when Taehyung finally stopped typing again. He looked up, his cold stare hitting Jungkook so hard it made him want to disappear.

“Well, then stop making us a we” he said, voice detached.

“Just gimme five minutes of your time,” Jungkook begged.

Taehyung let out a loud sigh. “Knew I shouldn’t have come out here to work,” he muttered under his breath as he closed his laptop and stood up.

Jungkook’s heart sank as he watched him silently head back to his room. But then his eyes dropped to the coffee table—and he noticed the plate of apples was gone too.

Taehyung had taken them with him.

A faint smile tugged at Jungkook’s lips, his hope wasn’t completely crushed after all.

✩｡:*•.─────

He couldn’t help it.

Despite everything he’d already done. Waking up early just to make Taehyung breakfast before he got up, making him warm tea when he stayed up late studying, softly complimenting him—even if those compliments were barely acknowledged, or worse, ignored.

None of it felt like enough.

He had to show Taehyung that even just five minutes of conversation with him were worth it. That Jungkook meant it, meant everything.

Which is why he was currently alone in Taehyung’s room…

…with a camellia in his hand.

God, he knew Namjoon told him not to overdo it, but to Jungkook, a flower wasn’t too much. It was simple. It was sweet. And most of all, it felt right. He believed in this gesture.

He stepped closer to Taehyung’s nightstand and gently set the camellia down, admiring it with soft eyes. His fingertips lightly brushed over the pale pink petals, so delicate and beautiful. He genuinely hoped Taehyung would love it just as much as he did.

Reaching into the pocket of his sweatpants, Jungkook pulled out a small note—the one with those few carefully chosen words that somehow carried too much meaning for their size. He read them again, eyes skimming every syllable, making sure nothing felt like too little, or too much.

With a small nod, he pressed his lips into a tight line and set the note beside the flower.

The flower was a sweet and simple gesture, but the note… the note added a deeper meaning to it. And Jungkook wasn’t afraid of that. He only wished he could be there to see Taehyung’s face when he found what he left for him on the nightstand.

Then again, maybe Taehyung would just throw both things away.

Either way, he’d be back from the gym any minute now. So Jungkook slipped out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him before heading back to his own.

He grabbed a hoodie, because even though it was May, the evenings had been weirdly chilly lately. After slipping on his sneakers, he left the apartment and chose the stairs over waiting for the elevator. He was way too tired to stand around doing nothing.

At that exact moment, the soft ding of the elevator echoed through the hallway, and Taehyung stepped out, already fishing for his keys in his pocket.

Once inside the apartment, he tossed his gym bag onto the bed and began stripping off his clothes. The place was silent. Jungkook was probably in his room.

He wondered if today, Jungkook would surprise him again with another one of those gestures—those cute little things he hadn’t stopped doing since the day he’d asked if they could talk and Taehyung had coldly pushed him away.

He hadn’t regretted it at the time. But maybe now… he did, lowkey?

He could tell what Jungkook was trying to do. And in a way, it reassured him to see him making these small, slow approaches without throwing himself all over him. Still, something inside Taehyung held back. Fear, mostly.

He didn’t want to blindly trust Jungkook again just because of a stupid crush, and end up broken all over again.

His heart couldn’t take a second heartbreak.

He headed to the bathroom and took a quick shower, his muscles relaxing under the hot stream. When he finished, he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked back to his room, grabbing a pair of boxers, sweatpants, and a t-shirt, tossing them onto the bed.

Then his movements froze.

There, sitting on his nightstand, was a flower.

Taehyung frowned as he walked around the bed and looked down at it. He picked it up gently and brought it close to his face, then lowered his eyes when he saw a small note slip to the floor.

He couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto his lips.

He already knew who it was from.

fuck—no matter how much he tried to stay detached, these gestures got to him. Every single one chipped away at his walls, and his poor heart couldn’t help but react.

He crouched down and picked up the note, already recognizing Jungkook’s messy handwriting scribbled across the paper.

Taehyung’s eyes scanned each word carefully, his smile slowly fading—until all that was left was a firm, closed-off line. “That idiot,” he muttered under his breath, reading the note again.

There’s not a day I don’t think of you. You’re right here, and I see you every day— but it’s not quite the part of you my soul keeps reaching for. Still, I won’t be greedy. Getting to exist near you is already more than I deserve

His chest tightened the more he read.

It was such a small note, and yet it made him feel so much.

Why the hell would Jungkook write something like that when just a few weeks ago, he’d told him it was just sex?

Why was he still lingering? Why was he still orbiting around him like there was something left to uncover, when Taehyung had nothing left to give? He wasn’t going to fall into that trap again. He wouldn’t give in to fleeting desires just to be left used and wrecked.

And yet, his heart thudded wildly in his chest. A quiet, traitorous part of him was whispering that maybe Jungkook wasn’t just chasing after desire this time.

He looked down at the flower still resting in his other hand, then back at the note.

Enough. He was done tiptoeing around this.

They needed to talk.

He carefully placed the flower back on the nightstand, making sure not to damage the petals, then turned around and got dressed quickly, wasting no more time.

He walked—almost ran—toward Jungkook’s room and flung the door open, only for his face to immediately fall in disappointment. The room was empty. It was strange for Jungkook not to be home, especially this late. Taehyung stood in the doorway, hesitating for a brief moment. He considered calling him, but something about it made him stop. He didn’t want to be the one to reach first like that. So he did nothing. Instead, he pulled the note from his pocket again and re-read it, as if searching for some hidden message he might’ve missed the first time.

Something tucked between the lines, more than just carefully chosen words.

Honestly, he wouldn’t even be surprised if Jungkook had suddenly decided to play some emotional game of hide-and-seek, with notes scattered like breadcrumbs.

His brain suddenly stopped functioning when a cold fear gripped him, freezing his blood and sending a sickening shiver down his spine.

Taehyung let out a breathy chuckle, nervous and sharp, before bringing the note closer to his face and reading it again, more agitated this time, though he didn’t know why. No new meaning jumped out at him. The words hadn’t changed.

But ever since that dark conclusion had popped into his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

A note. A flower. And him, gone.

The thought haunted him. The what if was so loud in his chest, he couldn’t even voice it aloud.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” he muttered under his breath, no longer hesitating. He snatched up his phone and hit call, not caring anymore about pride or timing.

But the moment the first beep rang, he froze.

A ringtone echoed in the silence of the apartment. His eyes snapped toward Jungkook’s bed, his phone was glowing there. Taehyung could see his own name on the screen.

"You absolute idiot!” he cursed loudly, spinning around and sprinting down the hallway. He grabbed his car keys, shoved on his shoes, and slammed the apartment door behind him, taking the stairs two at a time.

It wasn’t until he was in the car, engine roaring to life, that the brutal truth hit him.

He had no idea where to look.

The city was huge. Jungkook could be anywhere.

"Damn it," he growled, slamming his palm against the steering wheel. Frustration tore through him as he let his forehead fall against it, drawing in a shaky breath, heart pounding in his ears.

Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe Jungkook had just stepped out to clear his head, or meet someone.

The last thought hit bitter and sharp.

But still, that damn note kept echoing in his mind. The note might be his last words.

What if this was his way of saying goodbye?

Taehyung’s gut twisted at the thought. He didn’t want to believe it, but he couldn’t ignore it either. His anxiety was clawing at his insides like poison, and it wouldn’t stop.

He yanked the clutch into gear and pulled out onto the road. It was stupid. Irrational.

But he decided to start with every bridge in the city. No matter how absurd it sounded, he didn’t care.

Right now, nothing mattered more than finding Jungkook. Every second might count.

That’s how he found himself speeding over every bridge in Seoul, eyes scanning wildly each time, searching for anyone standing too close to the edge.

Fuck, this is insane. He never imagined he’d be driving like a maniac through the city, looking for Jungkook, with the fear that he might actually want to end his life.

“Why the fuck would he even do that?” Taehyung muttered, voice shaky, pressing harder on the gas pedal. The needle on the dashboard crept higher and higher, just like his heart rate with every passing second.

By the time he crossed the tenth bridge and still hadn’t seen anything, a memory hit him like a sudden flash of light. He gasped and slammed on the brakes, yanking the steering wheel to pull a U-turn, the tires screeching as the car skidded across the wide road. He shifted gears hastily and took off again at full speed.

The car surged forward, weaving past others as Taehyung gritted his teeth. “Please, please, please be there,” he whispered under his breath, panic clinging to every word.

After a few minutes, the sight of a park he knew like the back of his hand came into view, but he didn’t pay attention to it. Just a little farther ahead stood Banpo Bridge. And right there, dangerously close to the edge, stood someone dressed in all black, a bucket hat hiding his face.

Jungkook.

It could only be him. Taehyung would recognize him anywhere.

Taehyung slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching as the car drifted sharply to the side. A loud cry echoed when the wheels slid across the pavement. He flung the door open without a second thought, abandoning the car entirely—engine running, door swinging—before he sprinted toward Jungkook.

No no no no no— panic looped inside his head as his legs burned, forcing themselves to move faster, Just a few more meters. Please don’t do this. Please don’t fucking do this. He wanted to scream, but his throat was sealed shut. Fear clamped down on his chest like a vice.

Everything happened in a blur.

Jungkook’s body jolted violently when a strong arm hooked around his waist and yanked him back with brutal force, slamming him into the cold, hard ground. A grunt tore from his throat as pain exploded in his ribs. Another groan followed—this one coming from Taehyung, who landed right next to him, his arm still wrapped tightly around him.

Then the grip tightened. Both arms wrapped firmly around the younger boy, dragging him into a crushing embrace. Taehyung buried his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck and inhaled deeply, his breath shuddering.

He’d nearly lost him.

“Hyung?” he heard Jungkook mumble in confusion, finally recognizing who had just tackled him to the ground like a madman.

I’m going to kill him.

Taehyung pulled his head back to stare directly into Jungkook’s big eyes, which were glistening under the lights illuminating the bridge. “Are you fucking crazy?!” he barked right in his face, Jungkook’s expression scrunching up at the sudden outburst. “What the fuck do you think you were doing there?”

“i was just chillin”

“Chill–” Taehyung let out a disbelieving scoff, eyes flaring. “Who the fuck chills at the goddamn edge of a fucking bridge like a fucking idiot when there’s a perfectly fine park with benches right next to it, Jungkook!?”

Jungkook blinked at him, staring silently as Taehyung poured out all the fear that had been eating him alive. Then, in a quiet voice, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to save your damn ass! Why did you leave without telling me anything?”

“I just wanted to get some air… and I thought we weren’t talking anymore, so why would you expect me to tell you where I am?” Jungkook said, frowning.

“Well, maybe because you left a damn note on my nightstand with a flower like it was a fucking suicide letter!” Taehyung snapped.

“What—” Jungkook started, then stopped. His eyes drifted to the side as realization hit. “Oh,” he muttered. He pulled himself out of Taehyung’s grip and stood up. Taehyung already missed the warmth that had felt so right just seconds ago.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook mumbled, reaching a hand out. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Taehyung grabbed his hand, letting Jungkook pull him up.

They stood in front of each other, awkwardly. Jungkook kept his eyes down, while Taehyung scratched at the back of his neck, glancing around until his eyes landed on his car, still abandoned in the distance.

He sighed and looked back at Jungkook. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

The younger one nodded silently and followed. The quiet hung between them, heavy but no longer unbearable. It wasn’t until they reached the car that Jungkook finally spoke again. “Wait,” he said softly. “Let’s stay here a bit longer and… talk.”

He nibbled nervously on the corner of his lip.

Taehyung stared at him for a moment. He probably should agree, after all, that was part of the reason he’d come all the way here. “Yeah, fine,” he said. “I’ll go park the car. I’ll join you after.”

He caught the way Jungkook smiled brightly before quickly wiping it off and nodding once, then made his way toward the park.

After Taehyung parked the car nearby, he made his way back to Jungkook, where he saw him sitting on the bench, his head tilted upward, admiring the stars. He nervously played with his car keys, feeling his heart beat faster with every step he took, the sound echoing in his ears.

A sudden thought crossed his mind, even though everything seemed calm and lowkey okay in the moment, that didn’t mean it couldn’t all explode again and end like last time. And if it did end like that again, Taehyung would be the one jumping off that damn bridge without hesitation.

“Hey,” he said as he sat down next to Jungkook, who finally looked at him and gave a small smile.

“Hi,” he replied softly.

“So… you said wanted to talk.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m listening.”

Jungkook stared at his fingers, fiddling with the drawstrings of his sweatpants. Taehyung watched him from the side, waiting patiently. It looked like Jungkook was trying to find the right words, or maybe he was just afraid to say them. His teeth occasionally nibbled at the metal of his lip piercing.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said after a long silence, followed by a small, nervous laugh. “Damn, that sounded so lame. I should’ve come with something better than just an apology—feels stupid.”

His leg started bouncing.

“But I can’t find anything else to say besides ‘I’m sorry,’ because I feel so fucking awful for the things I said to you that day,” he mumbled, still keeping his gaze locked downward.

Taehyung stayed quiet, resisting the urge to reach over and place a hand on his thigh, to calm him, to let him know he didn’t have to be this nervous.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook repeated again, eyes shutting tightly this time.

“You don’t have to apologize so much,” Taehyung finally said, leaning back against the bench, his eyes staring straight ahead into the dark horizon of the park. “You were just telling your truth. No need to pity me.”

“No, you were right. I was being stupid.”

Taehyung let out a hum, not bothering to argue, because to be honest, Jungkook had been stupid that night.

“Hyung,” Jungkook called softly.

“Yeah?”

“I want us to… to—”

His leg bounced with an anxious rhythm, the speed of it driving Taehyung insane until he finally reached out, grabbing his thigh to stop it. “Stop,” he said lowly.

Jungkook gulped and let out a shaky breath before whispering, “I want us to go back to how we were before.”

Taehyung clenched his jaw, holding back a bitter laugh. “Well, I don’t,” he said coldly, pulling his hand away from the boy’s thigh.

Jungkook’s head snapped toward him, wide-eyed. He shook his head quickly. “Wait—I mean before we… you know, before we hooked up. Before all of that. I miss it.”

“I don’t think we can go back to that version of us,” Taehyung replied, running a hand through his hair. A sudden gust of wind made him shiver from head to toe, a brief involuntary tremble shaking his body.

Jungkook looked down and only now realized Taehyung was wearing just a t-shirt. His mouth parted before he looked back up at Taehyung, who was pointedly looking away.

“Here, take my—” Jungkook’s hand was already tugging down the zipper of his hoodie when Taehyung’s hand landed on his, stopping him.

“No,” he said simply.

“But you’re in a t-shirt, you’ll get sick,” Jungkook frowned.

“And what are you wearing under your hoodie?” Taehyung asked, raising a brow.

“a t-shirt,” Jungkook mumbled.

“Exactly. Keep your hoodie. Don’t worry, it’s just a little wind.”

“You’re literally shivering,” Jungkook pointed out.

“Then let’s go home.”

“No!” Jungkook said instantly, then added more gently, “Please, I want us to finish talking here.”

“Okay, but I’m not taking your hoodie.”

“Let’s share it.”

“What?” Taehyung blinked, confused.

“Share it. My hoodie,” Jungkook said, unzipping it and pulling one arm out of the sleeve, then holding out the edge toward the older boy to get the hint.

Taehyung stared at him silently. “Put that hoodie back on, Jungkook. I’m not sharing or whatever.”

Jungkook let out a small whine. “Don’t be so stubborn, come on.”

A ridiculous pout formed on his lips, giving him that annoyingly adorable expression Taehyung hated so much, because he always ended up giving in to it. And it must’ve shown in his eyes, because the next second, Jungkook dared to drape the other side of the hoodie over his shoulder.

Taehyung sighed, clearly not thrilled, even though warmth was already spreading through his body, and it wasn’t from the hoodie. It was from how close Jungkook had moved just to get it around the both of them.

They sat there awkwardly, a single hoodie draped over them as a shield against the night breeze. Taehyung ran his tongue over his lips, debating whether he should suggest going home again. If Jungkook wasn’t going to say anything else, then what was the point of staying here in the middle of the night? The silence was starting to bore him.

Jungkook suddenly shifted, and Taehyung didn’t pay much attention at first, eyes still fixed ahead, until his entire body tensed at the feeling of Jungkook’s arm sliding behind his waist.

Fuck. He hated how his body shuddered from such a simple touch.

“What are you doing?” he asked lowly, almost in a whisper.

“Sharing body heat,” Jungkook replied before tilting his head up to meet his gaze. “Can I?”

No. Why the hell would you—“Yeah,” his mouth answered before his brain had time to list all the terrible consequences of agreeing to this.

Jungkook smiled softly as his second arm came around and wrapped across him, hugging him from the side. His head rested against Taehyung’s bicep. Taehyung could feel his warm breath on his skin as he took slow, steady breaths.

“I’m sorry, Taehyung.”

“I know. You’ve said it, like, a thousand times now,” Taehyung muttered.

“It’s not enough.”

“Stop,” he sighed, making the mistake of turning his head toward him. His nose was immediately hit by the scent of Jungkook’s shampoo, and for a moment, he had the sudden urge to bury his face in it. “I don’t want to hear you apologizing for the rest of your life.”

“I only know how to do that because I suck with words,” Jungkook sulked.

Taehyung snorted. “Wish you sucked that night too, when you spat all that shit into my head.”

Now it was Jungkook’s turn to sigh. “You gonna blame me for that for the rest of your life?”

“Maybe…” Taehyung said with a shrug.

Jungkook didn’t respond to that.

“Besides, you’re not actually that bad with words,” Taehyung spoke again after a pause, immediately regretting it as Jungkook’s curiosity lit up and he looked up at him.

Their eyes met.

"What?" Jungkook asked softly.

"The note," Taehyung mumbled. "Even if it was short, it wasn’t that bad."

"You liked it?" Jungkook asked slowly, as if afraid of the answer.

Taehyung shrugged, but didn’t look away. He felt himself slowly sinking into Jungkook’s dark eyes, like they were pulling him in, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to resist.

"You liked them?" Jungkook repeated, but this time, his tone changed. He was referring to more than just the note now. Taehyung wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, so he exhaled softly and asked "What?"

"The note… the flower, the meals I made for you, the compliments I gave you, fixing your sister’s keychain, the laundry I kept—"

"Hold on," Taehyung cut in, frowning. "It was you?" he asked, surprised.

Jungkook was about to ask what he meant specifically, but Taehyung beat him to it. "The keychain."

"Yeah. Who else would it be?" Jungkook replied, frowning slightly.

“I don’t know, I…” Taehyung trailed off. “I just thought I broke it in my sleep or something. When did you even fix it without me noticing?”

"The day you fell asleep at your desk," Jungkook said, tightening his hold and pulling Taehyung a little closer. "I came to bring you tea and saw the keychain lying there, the chain detached from the little Kuromi that was hanging on it."

"And you fixed it?"

"Yeah. I know how much it means to you, and I wanted to do something that’d make you happy."

"Why do you do all of this?" Taehyung asked softly, searching for an answer in those big doe eyes, finally diving back into the real conversation.

"Because..." Jungkook’s mouth hung open for a second, and Taehyung, too lost in his eyes, didn’t even notice the light blush spreading on the younger’s cheeks. "Because I want to make things right between us."

Taehyung felt a stab of disappointment at that answer. He appreciated everything Jungkook had done, but the reason behind it wasn’t quite what he’d hoped. "Oh," he said simply, finally managing to tear his eyes away. "Well, if I’m sitting here with you right now, I guess it means I’ve kind of already forgiven you."

“So… we’re good!?” Jungkook perked up at that, suddenly excited. “We’re gonna go back to our good roommates vibe like before?”

“No” Taehyung sliced through his hopes immediately, and Jungkook froze.

“I told you it was impossible. It’s over.” Then he added in a whisper, “I can’t.”

Jungkook stared at him for a second before his expression shifted into a frown, a blend of confusion and determination clouding his face. “Don’t say it’s impossible when we haven’t even tried.”

Taehyung let out a dry chuckle at that. “Trust me, I know what I’m saying.”

“Then tell me what I’m supposed to do,” Jungkook said, moving even closer, if that was even possible. “There has to be something to fix this, something I can do,” he whined, almost ready to beg Taehyung not to shut him down like this.

But Taehyung shook his head with a sad smile. “There’s nothing to do. Or rather, nothing you can do—”

“I love you,” Jungkook suddenly blurted out.

Taehyung’s smile fell. His whole face went blank.

They were back to staring at each other, but now, one of them was looking with wide, sincere eyes full of hope, while the other stared in complete disbelief and confusion. A heavy silence followed. It was so tense that Jungkook actually started to wonder if Taehyung had even heard him.

He spoke again, carefully “Taehyung?”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” Taehyung growled under his breath, his face finally showing emotion again, but not the one Jungkook had hoped for. The air shifted sharply, tension tightening between them as Taehyung’s eyes darkened.

“Hyung, please,” Jungkook said quietly, “don’t fight me on this. I don’t want to argue with you right after saying the three clearest words I’ve ever said.”

Jungkook loves him?

No. That was impossible. How could he say that after everything they’d been through?

It felt too good to be true.

Taehyung’s mind began spiraling, pulling apart every theory about what Jungkook could possibly mean. His thoughts slowly grew heavier, messier. Jungkook said he wanted things to go back to how they were, but Taehyung wasn’t even sure what he meant by that anymore. Did he mean going back to being just good roommates? Or going back to casual hookups because he was craving something again?

What if he only said that to reassure Taehyung? Or worse—what if he said it out of pity, after finally realizing how Taehyung had felt all this time?

“Stop overthinking,” Jungkook broke through the train of thoughts spiraling in his head.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Hyung…” he whined softly.

Taehyung became aware again of just how tightly they were wrapped around each other, or more accurately, how tightly Jungkook was clinging to him, like letting go might make him vanish.

“You don’t love me.”

“I do.”

Taehyung bit his lip at the immediate, unwavering reply. And then he dared to whisper back, “Not like I do.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook breathed out, his voice dipping into a soft hush, “I love you even more than that.”

“Stop it,” Taehyung pleaded, jaw tightening as he turned his head away, “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Taehyung, look at me.”

He didn’t.

“Tae,” Jungkook said again, gently—lifting himself enough to be eye level with him. His arms weren’t as tight anymore, but they still lingered around his waist, holding on. “I love you.”

“Shut up.”

“Why is it so hard for you to believe that?”

Taehyung scoffed, his hands curling into fists. “Maybe because last time you spat in my face that I was just an experience to you.”

“I was stupid.”

“You still are.”

“I am,” Jungkook agreed immediately, letting his forehead drop against Taehyung’s shoulder. “Stupidly in love with you.”

Taehyung felt a heavy lump settle in his throat, making it impossible to respond. He was still just as lost about what Jungkook truly meant, even though he understood every single word he was saying. Somehow, Taehyung just couldn’t bring himself to grasp the truth of it.

That’s why Taehyung continued his endless resistance. “You can’t.”

And Jungkook kept fighting back. “I can. And I will.”

Taehyung finally turned his head toward him, his eyes locking with Jungkook’s—eyes that looked up at him with a kind of passionate fire burning in them, making it even harder for Taehyung’s brain to function properly.

“You know loving me isn’t just about sex.”

“I don’t care about the sex, hyung. I want you. Just you, that’s more than enough.”

Taehyung shook his head slowly. “How can I be sure you’re not just bullshitting me right now?”

“Give me a chance,” Jungkook said, voice steady but gentle, “and I’ll prove to you how serious I am.”

Taehyung exhaled sharply, “I hate you.”

Jungkook blinked in surprise.

He had nothing left to throw at him, every wall had been torn down, every excuse drained. And maybe that surrender showed on his face, because the boy in front of him beamed, a wide grin spreading across his face, nose scrunching up in that familiar way that made Taehyung’s heart twist painfully in his chest.

“And I still love you.” His face leaned in slowly, his eyes watching carefully for any sign that Taehyung might pull away, but Taehyung only stared. “Should’ve realized and told you this a long time ago.”

Their noses brushed as Jungkook gently leaned closer, eyes fluttering shut as he felt Taehyung’s breath against his skin. Every movement was slow, careful—giving Taehyung all the space in the world to back away if he wanted to.

But he didn’t.

He stayed right there.

“Say it again,” Taehyung whispered after a beat.

“I love you,” Jungkook answered immediately, already knowing exactly what he meant.

Taehyung’s lips were suddenly so close, the space between them shrinking even more as he leaned in. Jungkook could feel them barely brushing, so faint it made his breath hitch—but they weren’t quite touching yet.

“I love you too, bun,” Taehyung whispered.

Jungkook’s heart started racing like crazy, wide eyes staring up at him in shock. He was drowning in Taehyung’s hooded gaze, eyes filled with longing, but also desire. It was everything he had hoped to see: Taehyung close again, calling him by his nickname, both of them finally confessing.

And yet, it still felt surreal. Like a dream he had no right to hold.

He wanted to cry from sheer joy, but he was so overwhelmed that his body didn’t even know how to react. His eyes refused to tear up, too full of everything to function.

“I want to kiss you so bad,” he admitted in a small voice, unsure if he even had the right to say it.

Taehyung’s eyes darkened as he husked, “What the fuck are you waiting for, then?”

Jungkook let out a breathy chuckle, emotions dancing wildly inside him, making his head spin. He leaned in and finally erased the space between them, pressing their lips together. But before he could even savor the taste he had waited so long for—before he could deepen it—

A sudden loud bark shattered the silence right beside them.

They jumped apart immediately, their brief kiss breaking in an instant. The sound had startled Jungkook so badly that he let out a yelp and practically climbed into Taehyung’s lap, arms flinging tightly around his neck as he buried his face there for safety.

Without even thinking, Taehyung wrapped his arms securely around Jungkook’s waist, holding him tight against his chest in a protective reflex, eyes trying to scan the darkness to figure out what the hell had just scared the life out of them.

The dog barked again, this time even more aggressively, and Taehyung finally got a proper look at it. “Homophobic motherfucker. Get lost,” he muttered, glaring at the animal as it barked even more wildly in his direction.

He felt Jungkook giggle softly against the skin of his neck.

“Koko! Oh my god, here you are, baby!” a girl suddenly called out as she came running toward them. The dog instantly calmed down as it let itself be scooped off the ground into her arms. “You scared me,” she pouted, cradling the dog lovingly.

Yeah, well, not just you, Taehyung thought, watching the scene unfold in front of him.

Without another word, the girl turned on her heels and disappeared into the night, never once glancing in their direction, either not noticing their presence or just not giving a single fuck. Either way, one thing was certain: her damn dog had completely ruined their moment.

Taehyung sighed deeply and looked down at Jungkook, who was still clinging to him. But now, it felt less like fear and more like an excuse to stay close.

“Jungkook,” he called softly.

Jungkook hummed in response as his fingers slid into Taehyung’s hair, gently massaging his scalp. Taehyung melted into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. A low groan escaped his throat, his mind going completely blank, unable to think clearly anymore. And things only got worse when Jungkook lifted his head, bringing them back into eye contact again.

With a new burst of courage, Jungkook leaned in, aiming for the lips he had only tasted for a split second before… but right at that moment, Taehyung spoke up.

“Let’s go home before the next thing to crash our moment is a crow falling out of the sky.”

Jungkook froze.

“Oh… okay,” he mumbled, quietly pulling back without protest, finally climbing off Taehyung’s lap.

The older one stood up as well and picked up the hoodie that had slipped off their shoulders earlier. He turned around and draped it over Jungkook, then gently reached for his arms to help him through the sleeves. Jungkook let himself be guided in silence, watching the way Taehyung focused on the task, eyes lowered and hands steady.

Taehyung finished by zipping the hoodie up, then gave him a barely-there smile.

“Come on,” he said simply, turning to head toward where he had parked the car.

The road was silent, Taehyung driving calmly while Jungkook had his head resting against the window, his eyes sweeping across the nighttime horizon. Jungkook replayed everything that had happened in the park, trying to make sense of it all. He had told Taehyung he loved him. Taehyung had said it back. They had almost kissed—a real kiss, not just mouths meeting out of lust like before, but something filled with genuine emotion. And yet, despite all of it, fear still gnawed at him. That lingering feeling that it wasn’t real, that it was too good to be true.

What if Taehyung was doing all of this to get back at him? Pretending everything was fine just to slam him back down again? Maybe once they got home, he’d retreat into his room like always, shutting Jungkook out, avoiding him like the plague.

That question didn’t have to linger long.

Before he knew it, they were standing in front of their apartment door. Jungkook hadn’t even realized they’d arrived, too lost in his own thoughts.

Taehyung unlocked the door and pushed it open, letting Jungkook step in first. He crouched down to take off his shoes and heard the door close behind him.

“You hungry?” Jungkook tried, straightening up and heading for the kitchen without waiting for an answer, because he was hungry. “I can make us something if you—”

He felt Taehyung’s hand suddenly grab his waist and spin him around, pushing him against the counter with enough force to make him gasp at the sudden impact. His breath hitched as he found himself face-to-face with Taehyung’s dark, lust-filled eyes.

“Yeah, I’m hungry,” Taehyung rasped, voice low and heavy near his lips.

Jungkook’s knees nearly gave out right then and there. Of all the things he expected… this wasn’t one of them. His hand gripped the edge of the counter tightly as he stared back at him, completely speechless.

Taehyung didn’t wait another second, he dove straight into the crook of Jungkook’s neck and began placing soft kisses on his bare skin. Jungkook whimpered, eyes fluttering shut.

This is insane, he thought, letting Taehyung kiss him as much as he wanted. They had just made up. Jungkook had honestly believed Taehyung would take things slow, keep it innocent and soft, maybe build something gentle from here.

But that thought crumbled the moment those kisses turned into sucking. Taehyung’s mouth moved across his skin, leaving open-mouthed kisses along his neck, up to his jawline, only to pause and bite down gently on his earlobe. “Jungkook,” he growled low in his ear.

Jungkook moaned, barely holding himself upright.

“I’m starving,” Taehyung repeated, his voice rough and breathy, punctuating the words by pressing his hips forward, grinding against him. Jungkook let out another moan, louder this time, his hands tightening against the counter behind him.

“T-Then let me m-make you something,” he whispered, barely trusting his own voice. He knew they weren’t talking about the same kind of hunger. And still, he understood exactly what Taehyung meant.

Taehyung let out a low, amused chuckle before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“You’re already serving it, bun.”