Twisted Devotion | taekook

chapter. 9

It smelled like lilies, honey, rain and golden  warmth. It smelled like Jungkook, and it was so damn intoxicating Taehyung couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes even though the strength of the sun on his skin told him it was late morning.

He was usually in the office by six, but he didn’t want to wake up and find out last night had been a dream. There had been too many of those, too many subsequent showers where he'd washed off his disappointment over Jungkook’s absence in real life.

Snippets from the previous evening floated through his mind: seeing Jungkook at the restaurant, the way his laughter lit up the room, bringing him home, their kiss—a rush of warmth and promise, and what came after…

A niggling feeling told him he was forgetting an important piece of the puzzle, but he’d deal with that later. Jungkook was home, where he belonged, and he—

The soft rustle of clothes dragged Taehyung out of his slumberous bliss.

He cracked his eyes open, dread curling in his stomach when he saw the bed beside him was empty. Another rustle wrenched his attention to the corner where Jungkook was pulling his top over his head. The sunlight bathed him in an ethereal glow—his back turned to Taehyung, but he was etched so thoroughly in Taehyung’s brain that he could picture every flicker in his expression. Feel every curve, map every dip and valley he’d spent hours worshipping last night.

Jungkook zipped up his top with agonizing care. He didn’t want to wake Taehyung, which meant—

His stomach hollowed further. “Where are you going?”

Taehyung’s question echoed like a gunshot in the silence. Jungkook froze for a second before he resumed dressing. “Back to Jun's. I have a lot of work to do.”

Okay, Taehyung was getting fucking mad.

“I see.” He got out of bed, his movements slow and precise. Controlled, unlike the dread and anger flaring in his chest. “Were you planning to say at least goodbye, or were you going to sneak out like I’m a one-night stand you regret?”

No reply.

Goddammit. Taehyung had thought they were making progress, but he could feel Jungkook slipping away before he truly had a chance to have him again.

“What happened last night—”

“Was a mistake.” Jungkook’s fingers shook as he smoothed the sleeves of his silk top. “And so was what happened at the bar.”

“It didn’t sound like a mistake when you were screaming my name and begging me to let you come.” Taehyung’s response was silky, yet it didn’t match the thorny vines creeping through his chest. The more seconds that passed, the deeper they gouged.

Scarlet washed over Jungkook's face. “It was just sex.” His voice wobbled on the word sex, but his body remained stiff and unyielding as Taehyung crossed the room to stand in front of him. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Bullshit.” Taehyung had seen the way Jungkook looked at him, heard the way he whispered his name. Neither of them did just sex.

“Our sex life wasn’t an issue, you and I both know it, but we can’t solve our issues with sex.” Jungkook finally met his eyes, his expression locked tight behind a steel wall. “I was drunk at the bar, and we were caught up in the adrenaline of what happened at Le Boudoir last night. There were too many emotions flying around that had nothing to do with this.”

Jungkook gestured between them.

Le Boudoir. Minho. Fuck. That was a whole other mess, but Taehyung would deal with it later. For now, he focused all his energy on breathing through the strangling knot in the back of his throat. Beneath it, a fresh ember of anger sparked, and he grasped at it like a drowning man at a rope.