Jungkook tilted his head, confusion clouding his thoughts as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The space felt strange, like it carried a weight he couldn’t quite identify. The air was heavy, thick with an unsettling tension. Darkness consumed his vision. He blinked, but nothing changed.. his eyes weren’t the problem.
A realization struck him like a jolt. His sight was blocked. Slowly, Jungkook understood.. he was blindfolded.
Panic began to creep in as he instinctively tried to sit up, only to feel resistance. His arms were bound. His heart pounded in his chest as he wriggled against the restraints, the sensation of silk ties brushing against his skin making the situation even more surreal.
“What…? Wasn't I in a hotel?” he gasped, his voice trembling. His breaths quickened as he twisted his wrists, desperate to loosen the ties holding him to the headboard of a bed.
"H..hobi hyung.. hyung.." He called out, shaking his head violently, hoping to dislodge the blindfold, but it stayed firmly in place.
The muffled sounds around him grew sharper as his senses heightened, and then he heard it.. a low chuckle that sent a shiver down his spine.
“Where am I? Hobi hyung?” Jungkook whispered into the void, his voice small and shaky.
The chuckle grew louder, clearer, dripping with amusement. Jungkook froze as the voice followed.
“Oh, dear,” the man drawled, his tone smooth, confident, and laced with something unnervingly intimate. “You woke up? I thought you’d be more tired.”
Jungkook’s head snapped toward the sound, his blindfolded gaze futilely seeking its source. “T-Taehyung? Isn't that you?” he stammered, his voice a mixture of confusion and fear.
On the other side of the room, bathed in the dim, sultry glow of red light, Taehyung sat casually on a red velvet couch. His posture exuded authority, one leg draped lazily over the other in a perfect manspread. A glass of red wine rested in his hand, the deep crimson liquid swirling idly as he tilted the glass with an air of nonchalance.
Taehyung stood, the soft thud of his shoes against the polished floor sending tremors through Jungkook’s nerves. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, as he approached the bed. Stopping at its edge, he tilted his head, his gaze raking over Jungkook’s figure.
The boy lay there in a red satin gown, the silky fabric clinging to his form in a way that seemed almost designed to provoke. Taehyung’s lips curved into a smirk, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
“Hmm,” Taehyung mused, taking a slow sip of his wine. “That’s not what you were calling me earlier.”
Jungkook’s lips parted in confusion, his brows furrowing beneath the blindfold. “I... I don’t know,” he stammered, his voice trembling. “Where am I? Why are you here? Where is Hobi hyung?”
Taehyung chuckled softly, leaning forward, he placed a hand on the mattress, just beside Jungkook’s hip. His proximity made the younger’s breath hitch.
“You don’t remember anything?” Taehyung murmured, his voice low and dangerously close. “Shall I remind you then?”
Jungkook’s breath came faster now, panic mixing with fear. His instincts screamed for him to pull away, but the binds held firm, leaving him vulnerable beneath Taehyung’s steady gaze.
“What are you talking about?” Jungkook whispered, his voice cracking.
Taehyung smirked again, leaning just a fraction closer, his lips curling into a devilish smile. “You look like a sin,” he said softly, his voice a velvety murmur that sent a chill down Jungkook’s spine, he reached out for the hem of his satin gown and in a fraction of second, he yanked it up.
