FOR ALL ETERNITY [ TAEKOOK] ✓

19. The body Shot

                               

Jungkook couldn't sleep that night.

No matter how many times he shifted beneath the sheets or turned his pillow over to the cool side, his body refused to relax. His gut was tight with emotion, like something was twisting deep inside him and wouldn't let go. His thoughts were a storm, loud and relentless, swirling around one impossible truth—he had cupped Taehyung's face and called him beautiful.

A man. His husband. His friend. He had done that.

And not casually. Not like a joke. Not offhandedly.

No. He had said it like it meant everything.

He could still feel the warmth of Taehyung's cheeks beneath his palms. Soft and flushed and warm, like squishy bread straight from the oven. His fingertips still remembered the shape of Taehyung's jaw, the way the elder leaned into the touch without hesitation, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Jungkook pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and groaned quietly into the dark. What the hell was that? Where did it even come from?

His brain was a tangled mess, throwing questions at him like darts. Why did you touch him like that? Why did you say it? Why did it feel so right? Why is your heart still racing?

And most importantly—why did looking at Taehyung feel like peace?

He didn't have a single answer. Not one. All he had were the facts: Taehyung had opened the door, messy-haired and sleepy-eyed, and Jungkook had forgotten how to function. His body moved before his brain did. His mouth spoke before he could think.

And yet... he didn't regret it.

Because Taehyung was beautiful. Unfairly, devastatingly, overwhelmingly beautiful. And somewhere deep in his soul, Jungkook had been dying to say it.

Still, the confusion burned in his chest like a slow fire. He rolled over again, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling like it might offer clarity. But the silence only made it worse.

What the hell was happening to him?

And why, when he closed his eyes—was all he could see that face?

That face, smiling shyly in the dark. That face, inches from his. That face, resting in the palms of his hands like it belonged there.

Jungkook clenched the blanket in his fists.

Sleep had left the building.

And peace? That was long gone

~

October 13th.

Jimin's birthday.

Yoongi was throwing a party for his beloved menace, and Taehyung was already twenty minutes late, hunched over the mess on his bed, aggressively trying to wrap a box of limited-edition skincare with hands that were shaking more than he'd like to admit.

Tape stuck to his elbow. Ribbon in his mouth. Scissors nowhere to be found.

He was mid-grumble when a knock came at his door.

He blinked. Paused. Half the ribbon dangling off the box.

Opening the door with a half-mumbled "yeah?" still on his lips, he was hit with a vision that made his soul stutter.

Jungkook. In black.

Like, all black.

Fitted black shirt, black jeans, silver accessories, fluffy dark hair slightly parted, earrings catching the light. And a face that looked like it had been Photoshopped by God himself.