• M a k t u b : Spirit of the desert • [ Taekook ]

30. Jungkook, imagine

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⚠️Warning: slight mature content
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It was that sick hour when the light of the sun's rays struggled with the agony of the day. Somewhere above the blue roofs of Marrakesh houses, the last painful blush of the sky could be seen.

Another day ends the same with painful memories and the thought of him.

Such moments in Jungkook created that split feeling he couldn't talk about with anyone. He was alone on his own pain which had passed through him for years and overwhelmed his inner being.

As soon as he closed the door of the house behind him, he took a deep breath. Ali brought the bags into the house and with a soft whisper that he was going to rest, bowed to his master.

It was already morning. The crack of dawn was the time when his feelings tormented him the most, no matter how hard he tried to put a mask on them, there were always those few minutes of solitude where Jungkook was stripped to the core with all his pain.

He quickly connected with his senses and climbed the marble stairs. Silence reigned in the family house.

He pressed the lock of the bedroom door and slowly peeked inside. Nadira was lying on a large baldahin bed, next to which there was a crib. He tiptoed over to it and saw his son sleeping peacefully. Jungkook smiled. He didn't even notice that he had been standing there for several minutes, until Nadira woke up and softly called his name.

Jungkook shook himself and took off his shirt and sweatpants and pointed to the bathroom. Nadira understood his intention, stayed awake until he finished showering.

- You were in the desert again? - she whispered softly when she placed her head on his bare chest.

Jungkook nodded, not thinking that the woman might not even notice that his body suddenly shuddered and she looked into his eyes, which closed on their own from tiredness.

- Good night, honey. - she pressed a kiss on his neck and then turned to the other side of the bed and fell asleep again.

The man remained motionless looking at the ceiling above him and couldn't help but think how love with Taehyung was just like a dandelion, constantly threatened and under the eternal threat of disappearing and disintegrating with one strong gust of wind.

And before he himself could sail between the blue line of sleep and reality, once again the thought crossed his mind that tomorrow he would have a trip to Boston, where he began to expand his company.

Work was the only thing that gave him the strength to continue with his life, besides his son, of course.

And Jungkook once again lied to himself that maybe even in his wildest dreams there was a chance for that dandelion to bloom again, even if the soil was too poisoned.

__________

A glimmer of hope appeared on his face as he felt a hand slide down his bare torso to his bulge. He shifted a little, eyes still closed when he felt the pleasant grip of his length. Jungkook felt himself getting hard in an instant and a small smile crept onto his face, he automatically lifted his hips up with a soft yes.

But what he heard next made his blood boil and he suddenly opened his eyes.

- Jungkook, honey, be quiet, we will wake up the child.

- What the hell? - Jungkook was already in a sitting position, looking at his wife as if he were his greatest enemy.

Damn, how could he not recognize her delicate little hand? Why did he think it was him? Why did he think the dream was reality?