Against his better judgement, Taehyung stays the night.
He honestly does consider leaving, for a moment, basking in the afterglow when he’s tangled in the sheets, listening to Jungkook belt the greatest hits from J-Bieb’s discography in the shower, but it’s just an impossible task because burritoed in Jungkook’s comforter he just feels so warm, and the way Jungkook smiles at him when he emerges from the bathroom minutes later makes him feel even warmer, and the way he wraps himself around Jungkook like he’s a pillow makes him feel the warmest he’s possibly ever been.
See, this is his first mistake, he get complacent and forgets things, like the time, history, and just how hungry he gets in the morning, only to remember the last when the morning graces him with the natural splendor of dawn by lovingly imparting him with a sunbeam that finds the only crack in the curtains and nails him straight in the fucking eye, and he wakes up blind, bleary and starving.
So he rolls off of a lightly-snoring Jungkook, picks up the nearest shirt off the floor, bundles up and ambles outside to the nearest Burger King, debating a bit if he should get some for Jungkook too before doubling his order.
It’s honestly a no brainer, because worst case? More food for him.
Then he’s back before he knows it, lazily leaning against the cool of the granite countertop of the island in Jungkook’s kitchen, texting Jimin with one hand and shoving breakfast into his face with the other when the door to the bedroom opens with a furious bang and Jungkook emerges, eyes cast downwards, hair rumpled into an unruly nest on his head and a deep-set frown stamped across his face.
“Um, morning?” Taehyung lifts a hand and a brow. “You okay?”
“Whoa,” Jungkook whips towards him in shock, blinks a couple of times before the frown is replaced with a sleepy smile. He shakes his head as he yawns, “Yeah. I’m good. Sorry. Didn’t think you were still here.”
“Not a morning person?”
“Not on weekends.”
“I can relate, it kinda catches up to you,” Taehyung points his phone at the bag of food. “Are you hungry?”
“Depends. What is it?” Jungkook ambles over and peers into the bag, finger hooking the edge down.
“I’m good,” Jungkook wrinkles his nose.
Taehyung stares Jungkook down as he takes an exaggerated bite, and mumbles attractively through a mouthful of chewed food. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. As much as you’re selling it right now, I think I’ll pass.”
“But it’s fmucking goo—oh shit,” he immediately looks down as a chunk of sandwich falls out of his mouth and onto the counter. He starts laughing as he pops it back into his mouth, “Oops.”
When he glances back up, Jungkook’s staring straight at him, head slumped on his hand and chuckling with the warmest expression Taehyung’s ever seen directed at him in his life.
“What are you staring at?” Taehyung says, suddenly self-conscious. He stands up straight, cheeks beginning to heat up. “Is there something on my face?”
“No,” Jungkook says as he stands up and stretches. “It’s just…”
“I’m just really happy.”
And before Taehyung can react, Jungkook ducks inside his room.
They become insatiable.
It’s probably the result of months of pent-up tension finally getting a chance to unwind, and even though Taehyung knows he should be more cautious, the danger, in some ways, in many ways, makes it even more exciting.
Taehyung stays over maybe one or two times more, but because of late work nights and schedule conflicts, they start using Taehyung’s studio a lot as a meeting point, more and more, since it’s a convenient place to be with soundproofing and a lock.
It’s strange in hindsight how normal it becomes, how when they’re alone in a locked room for more than half an hour, things quickly escalate. Like, he’ll be working on the bridge of Twice Pink’s track, Jungkook will shove his hand down his pants, he’ll goad Jungkook with smirk and a “it’ll take more than that,” and pretty soon it devolves into a game where he tries to finish his task before Jungkook finishes him. Yeah, Taehyung won’t admit it, but Jungkook almost wins because Taehyung might kinda have a huge thing for the way music’s next big thing looks crouched between his legs as he works Taehyung with his mouth.
And since he knows that he’ll inevitably take the L anyway, Taehyung decides to just finish things on the couch.
“Just a warning, I’ve only got,” Taehyung, a moment from pinning Jungkook down, pauses and squints at his watch. “Ten minutes.”
“Um, don’t start something you can’t finish,” Jungkook props himself up on his elbows as he watches Taehyung fish around in a drawer. “I swear, if you blueball me—”
“That’s more than enough time,” Taehyung scoffs as he finds the bottle he needs.
“A bit dicey,” Jungkook retorts skeptically. “History’s not exactly on your side.”
“What are you trying to say?” Taehyung leans over Jungkook, eyes narrowed as he yanks down Jungkook’s waistband. “Are you doubting me?”
“I’m telling you to get started,” Jungkook raises his brows. “Since it would appear you don’t have a lot of—s-shit—“ Jungkook swears, back arching as Taehyung shuts him up with the slip of a finger, and then two. “—a warning—would—have been—nice—”
And he doesn't really know how they get from the couch to the wall or why he's taking Jungkook up against a vertical surface in the first place, or what is the best position to put his hands in especially when his back starts to cramp up and his arm is feels like it's going to fall off from holding up Jungkook's leg.
But what he does know is that Jungkook seems to be really into it, if the sounds he's making against Taehyung's lips are anything to go by, and he likes the way Jungkook's got him soaring, especially when he pulls him in tight. And so Taehyung continues to try his best, pulling all the moves he knows at an angle perpendicular to what he's used to, and manages coax a shuddering Jungkook through it just clutch enough that Jungkook ends up smacking into Jimin on his way out, shirt haphazardly tucked in his jeans, hair a complete mess, expression dazed, face still flushed.
“M’bad,” Jungkook flinches from the contact, hood pulled over his head and hands jammed in his pockets.
“Um, hey?” Jimin staggers a bit.
“Wat’s poppin’,” Jungkook nods before rushing out the door.
“Um,” Jimin points over his shoulder. “What was that about?”
“Nothing,” Taehyung wipes the loopy grin off his face as soon as he notices the box of fallen protection and quickly kicks it under his desk.
“Alright,” Jimin dumps his bag near the couch and proceeds to shimmy past the coffee table towards the couch.
“Um,” Taehyung winces. “I wouldn’t...uh...sit there.”
“Why?” Jimin freezes, awkwardly holding his hands up in the air. His eyes narrow, “What’s wrong with it?”
“Um,” Taehyung grimaces.
It takes Jimin a second before realization slaps him in the face and he stands up like he’s been shot, “No.”
“ No. ”
“Yes?” Taehyung sheepishly eeks out. “Maybe?”
“That’s so— no ,” Jimin twists around and stares at the seat of his pants like he’s trying to sanitize it with his eyes before scrutinizing the couch. “You guys. No. I can’t, that’s just, like... no . No. No. Fucking—no, it is two in the fucking afternoon—”
It’s funny, much to Jimin’s displeasure, because they end up having that conversation more than once.
It goes the other way too, like Jungkook will be playing games, and Taehyung will suggestively sit on him until Jungkook shifts to conceal his growing problem, and then said suddenly Jungkook’s kissing his neck, suddenly Jungkook’s working magic with his fingers, suddenly the protection’s ripped out of the box in the third drawer to the right of the paperclips and behind the post-its (“the blue ones, no no no not those, the blue ones, hurry up dumbass”) and suddenly Jungkook’s got Taehyung bent over the desk, hitting it just right with enough enthusiasm for the framed picture of his family’s dog to fall face-down with a clatter (which honestly, was for the better, it was getting weird to look at), while he’s serenading Taehyung something stupid, like his Inkigayo Traffic Safety song at the worst times.
“What?” Taehyung’s eyes snap open. “T-The fuck—are you—singing?”
“Don’t accelerate~♪” Jungkook breathes into his ear. “For safe traffic~♪”
“Wait—is that,” Taehyung turns to glare at Jungkook, fingers grasping at the top of the desk as he tries to stuff his protests in between his gasps. “ Oh ,” His brows furrowing as he rides out a particularly strong wave before he snaps. “Is that your fucking traffic safety song—oh, fuck, shit, right there — ”
“Make sure~♪” Jungkook serenades him as he leans forward and doles out the finishing moves from two fronts. “ To. Respect. Traffic. Safety~♪”
And curling over the table (“oh fuck, fuck, fuck ”), Taehyung unravels in his arms.
“Jungkook what the fuck,” Taehyung, shaky from the finish, tries to kick Jungkook in the balls as the piece of shit himself cackles away but misses and hits him in the shin instead. He quickly begins pulling his clothes back on, and checks the vicinities for any evidence, reasonably sure he has a meeting with Hoseok in this very room in ten minutes (maybe out of good conscience, he should move it to Hoseok’s office), before chucking Jungkook’s boxers at his stupid face, “The last thing I’ve ever wanted to do was jizz to a fucking traffic safety song—oh my god, stop laughing you fucktard—”
Jungkook grabs him by the wrist, pulls him in close and cuts him off with a kiss.
And then he whispers seductively against Taehyung’s lips, “Ecodrive~”
Taehyung responds in kind by stomping on his foot.
Pretty much a typical Tuesday afternoon.
And of course there’s moments like these, where it’s just normal vanilla shit, like they’re both getting into it, and Taehyung’s got his arms looped around Jungkook’s neck, going at his own pace, watching the way Jungkook’s watching him with half-lidded eyes like he’s a show in the darkness. It really gets him, the way the sensation is making him lose his mind, the way Jungkook’s hands rest tentatively on his waist, the way Jungkook moves in a way that clearly says he’s feeling this too, the way Jungkook murmurs dirty talk against his lips.
(“Fuck—does that feel good? Because it looks like you’re having a lot of fun.”
Um, Taehyung would really like to know exactly how he was supposed to answer that, because it was so, just so fucking—nevermind, he thinks he buries his face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck to hide his face in embarrassment.)
And in no time Taehyung can feel it start to build, and in no time things heat up as they chase the heat, and in no time they’re both pushed over the edge, hearts hammering in their chests as Jungkook closes his eyes and kisses him through the shudders.
“Goddamn,” Jungkook says, staring up at Taehyung, punchdrunk on something dangerous.
And Taehyung doesn’t really know what he was expecting, like maybe something more along the lines of ‘that was so good,’ or ‘touchdown’ or ‘is this chair from ikea’ but certainly not—
“I’m so in love with you.”
Its strange, it’s six simple words, but their weight hits Taehyung with the force of a sledgehammer. It’s a familiar mix of euphoria with a big helping of caution, exploding straight in his chest, and sending his heart into overdrive.
Because, yeah, as heart-warming as it is, he’s heard the exact same promise before.
So, at a bit of a loss, he pretends he doesn’t hear Jungkook, changes the subject and just relishes in the high.
And that’s his second mistake, he thinks that’s the end of that.
The paranoia doesn’t start until Wednesday.
By all accounts, the day itself starts out just fine. Taehyung lets Jungkook actually hold his hand for the first time, in the wee hours at a housewarming for Namjoon’s new place, when they’re watching a movie and between the blanket and a cushion, Jungkook’s fingers find his.
That’s probably what really sets it all in motion, that in some, wordless degenerate millennial fashion, Taehyung’s aware that he’s basically said yes to something concrete with Jungkook and ushered in a strange honeymoon period whose opening ceremony kicks off with a literal bang an hour later, when they’re making their way towards his car, and Jungkook, in the middle of lambasting the movie for its gaping plotholes and walks straight into a pole hard enough to leave a purpling bruise.
It’s so damn funny, at least after Taehyung made sure Jungkook hadn’t concussed, because of how stupid it is, how loud the metals rings, how absurdly stubborn Jungkook gets while insisting it doesn’t hurt, and as they’re waiting for the elevator, on their way back to Namjoon’s for an ice pack, Taehyung keeps sneaking peeks at the pole-shaped swelling and bursts into snickers as Jungkook intermittently sighs, gingerly prodding his face with his fingers.
“Jin is going to kill me,” Jungkook complains, inspecting it in the brushed-nickel reflection of the elevator doors.
“Probably,” Taehyung knocks Jungkook’s hand away. “Hey, stop touching it, you’re just going to make it worse.”
“Fine,” Jungkook sticks his tongue out, “By the way, this your fault, make it up to me.”
Taehyung snorts, “How’s it my fault?”
Jungkook swings his head toward Taehyung, expression deadly serious, and flicks his eyes in a quick once-over, “It’s because you look so damn good. I didn’t see the pole because I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”
“Ugh,” Taehyung buries his face in his hands as Jungkook begins laughing his fucking head off like he’s the funniest person in the world. “That’s...”
“Too smooth? Yeah, I know, thanks.” Jungkook grins.
“No, ‘much,’ that’s too fucking much .”
“I’m still gonna have to have you make it up to me.”
Jungkook suddenly holds out his hand, palm-side up.
Taehyung’s eyes flick from Jungkook’s hand to his face, “Okay?”
Jungkook smiles and wiggles his fingers insistently.
“Words. You have them, so use them,” Taehyung looks down at his hand again, this time derisively, kinda hoping Jungkook does and kinda hoping he doesn’t.
Jungkook grins wider, “Hold my hand.”
Taehyung makes a face, huffs, and rolls his eyes, but loosely laces their fingers together anyway, heart thrumming in his chest.
They’re quiet for a moment, watching the numbers on the panel decrease as the seconds tick by. A sleek foreign car that undoubtedly belongs to one of Namjoon’s A-List neighbors glides past in the garage, tires squeaking over pavement as the reflection of the lights slip over the paint, and before Taehyung can even consider breaking their hold, Jungkook squeezes his hand tighter instead.
“Hey, so,” Jungkook breaks the silence, nervously tapping his leg with his fingers. “Random question, and, no pressure to give me an answer now, but but a-are you—um...”
“But what?” Taehyung raises a brow.
“How do I…” Jungkook looks to the side and scratches his face. “Do you have Christmas p-plans already?”
And for once, Taehyung catches the implication right away.
Because, right, Christmas. A major couple’s holiday. Okay. This was probably going exactly where Taehyung thinks it’s going.
“Um,” Taehyung plays coy anyway, bites his lip and starts checking out the laces on his shoes, his face getting warm. “Why?”
“Would you, um,” Jungkook looks down and rakes a pink through his bangs. “Would you wanna do something that day—like, only if you’re free of course—”
And of course the elevator door opens then, merrily chiming a warning before revealing its cargo of their crew.
They all notice even though no one comments, verbally anyway—of course Jimin notices right away, smiling without saying anything, shaking his head in silent laughter as he covers his face with the ice pack they came down to deliver to Jungkook, Namjoon’s eyes flick down and instantly back up to Taehyung as his brows quirk with the slightest hint of amusement, Yoongi just shakes his head, Hoseok beams.
And Jin, well, he looks mildly happy but mostly resigned, expression slipping into a professional mode as if he’s mentally calculating some next moves, before he takes the ice pack from Jimin.
“Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” Jungkook winces, eye squeezing shut, nose scrunching as Jin presses the pack to his face.
“It’s fine. We’ll try to cover it up,” Jin chides, blinking as he brushes Jungkook’s bangs out of the way. “But it’d be nice if you could try and be a little more careful. This kind of recklessness is going to catch up to you one day.”
And Taehyung knows he’s not just talking about the bruise.
It’s funny, really, how that statement puts Taehyung on edge perhaps more than he’s ever been, and yet still, later, when they finally make it to Jungkook’s car and they’re sitting strapped into their seats as Jungkook figures out navigation, Taehyung says ‘yes’ when Jungkook asks him, again, about Christmas, and then ‘yes’ once again when Jungkook, all smiles, asks him to stay over.
It’s easy for him to reconcile why he does it when Jungkook captures his lips the moment the moment his apartment door shuts behind him, when there’s nothing between them but sheets and skin, when Jungkook’s got Taehyung seeing stars.
It’s always in the morning when his decisions become tougher to face, when he starts having major doubts again, particularly this one, though for a slightly different reason than just because of clarity in the AM, when he wakes up to his ringtone and the bleary and an thoroughly unamused expression from a recently roused Jungkook, and quickly answers his phone without checking the ID.
“He-hello?” Taehyung sits up as Jungkook sleepily rolls to his edge of the bed, pulling the comforter over the bed and curling into a ball.
There’s no response, and Taehyung waits a moment before he tries again, “Um, hello?”
“Hey,” a distorted voice suddenly cuts over the line. “Stay away from Jungkook if you know what’s best for you, you fucker.”
And then the line goes dead, a phone number ending in 3444 greeting him on his screen when he whips his cellphone off his ear.
Maybe it was the shock of the level of unexpectedness, or maybe it was fuzziness from waking up, but it doesn’t really set in for Taehyung at the moment, and he’s blinking, mind spinning and stuttering over how he should react when Jungkook emerges from his cocoon and squints at Taehyung, “who was that?”
“A s-solicitor,” Taehyung lies as he gets out of bed.
“Oh,” Jungkook flops back down and yawns. “That sucks.”
“Yeah,” Taehyung shakes his head to dispel the unease. “It does.”
Have I evr told u
How I mss u
Sry, ignore that
I got rly fucked up last night
Don’t worry about it
This is so awk
But what’s up
It’s been a minute
How have you been?
Oh btw I saw an ad for your new album today
Loool It’s just a single
But ty ty
Seriously proud of you
Haha ty again
I was thinking about you the other day
We should catch up
Are you free sometime this week?
We should get a drink or something
Actually, can I bring a friend?
Forgot I was supposed to hang out with him
We could just do another day
Other conflicts are work-related
Can’t move them, sry
Yeah sure then
Who is it?
If you don’t mind me asking
Idk if you know him
Who hasn’t heard of him
Isn’t he like the next big thing
But yeah, ofc
I wanna meet him
My costar is kinda obsessed with him
Is it okay if I invite her too?
Make it an actual group thing
She’d kill me if I didn’t ask
Sure lol why not
Cool, lemme ask her
I’ve literally never heard someone scream so loud
She’s a lot of fun, I promise
I’m sure she is