Unwrapping Taehyung

Chapter Five

Jungkook

TAEHYUNG went to the gym to burn off some inner road rage or something, and I wandered around the house restlessly. Namjoon was going to press this thing. He was a laid-back guy, but he was no pushover. Clearly, the leader of the frat pack had lockjaw when he got his teeth into something. I wondered, again, what Namjoon's agenda was. It had to have something to do with the fact that Taehyung was his brother. It had a whiff of fraternal torture about it, the dysfunctional family je ne sais quoi. Somehow, I'd ended up in the middle of it.

The question was, what was I going to do about it? I admit, I enjoyed spending time with Taehyung, and I was going to be bored when that ended. We had a 'frenemy' thing going on that was more entertaining than any other relationship I'd formed at PSU. It was fun to pick on Taehyung, and I liked that he picked on me right back. And then there was the not-at-all-shabby scenery he provided and the fact that I hadn't figured him out yet.

My parents had given me a big lecture about the ongoing physical, cognitive, and sociological development of a young man my age.

In sum: people changed a lot during college years, particularly as a result of the 'first real separation from parental authority and caretaking' and 'a realization of adulthood as a socially-enforced but self-sustained burden.' I wondered what my semi-fascination with Kim Taehyung meant about my cognitive development. Maybe I was only interested in people I clashed heads with, like a wee pearl that needed the grit of friction to grow.

That was a depressing thought.

My best guess about the party thing is that one of us would have to just capitulate. Maybe we could rock-paper-scissors for it. I wanted to argue with Taehyung about it right then, a weird little itchy niggle in my stomach. But Taehyung wasn't here. I wondered out to the living room to see what the guys were up to.

"Jungkook!" Jimin called out. There were five guys sprawled out over the couches in the common room watching Arnold Schwarzenegger in 3D. "Terminator marathon, bro! Hang with us!"

"And make some popcorn," a blue-haired boy named Yoongi called out without looking away from the screen.

"Tempting. But I think I'll pass. You guys have fun."

I went into the kitchen and pocked into Taehyung's little shelf in the fridge. I found a large tub of Japchae and a few smaller with different meats and vegetables. It also contained two glass bottles like the ones Taethyung had stashed in his room. The labels were facing the back of the fridge. I dug one out and looked at it. There was a post-it note that read 'Taehyung' conveniently hiding the label. I pulled it off. The bottle had a hand-written label that said 'Grape Kombucha'. I got out my phone and googled it. It was a fermented tea beverage, supposedly a good detoxifier. Origin: Asia. Popular with the hippy health crowd and often homemade. Had Taehyung made it himself? Did he buy it from someone who made it? And why did he cross out the labels?

"Taehyung, you wacky, muscle-bound bundle of contrariness," I muttered. I put the bottle back. I wasn't in the mood to study, so I went back up to my room and settled down to watch my secret vice on my laptop.

                                              *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

I was really getting into the video and just starting to rub my hand over my hardening dick, which was still confined to my jeans, when a big paw pounded on the door and it flew open.

"Hey, Frenchie!" Taehyung bellowed as loud as he possibly could.

He was in comfy grey sweats that showcased his ass perfectly, a fitted white vest top that displayed all of his glorious muscles and his hair was damp, like he'd just gotten out of the shower. Well shit. That image is not helping my current problem.