Lyric One Shots: Taekook Edition

Chateau Part Two

*As requested, here is Part Two for the Chateau Story*

Rating: Fluff (some violence and mentions of sex)

...

It wasn't fate that Taehyung met and slept with his past love, Jeon Jungkook. That he got to express those unrequited feelings he kept bottled up for so many years. That he got to see the softer side of the man he fell in love with as he drifted off to sleep. That's what he keeps telling himself anyways. That it wasn't fate. That he did not belong there. That he did not love Jeon Jungkook.

Two months have passed. Taehyung wakes, showers, works, drives home, sleeps, repeats. He tries getting the incident out of his mind, determined to only focus on work and keeping the bill collectors at bay. He doesn't have time to focus on Jungkook.

It is in his weakest moments that he reminisces on the man. On his rough hands clinging to Taehyung's soft flesh, on his voice, his fiery gaze, his electrifying kiss, his gentle smile...It is in these moments Taehyung questions himself the most, wondering why the hell he ran away. Was he afraid of rejection or Jungkook? Afraid of Jungkook laughing him off as a joke...or afraid of exposing his past? He admits his ego probably came to play when he left. He doesn't want Jungkook to know just how far he's fallen when Jungkook has done nothing but soar.

Taehyung wakes from his dreams of Jungkook's touch burning his skin when his loud alarm clock comes blaring to life. He groggily shuts it off, rubbing his eyes as he sits up on his lumpy mattress, his ragged blankets sliding off his lean torso. He's gotten thinner, stress and poverty straining his body. He steps out onto the cold wood floor, each bone in his body aching. Begging him for a day of rest that he can't afford. Taehyung shuffles to the bathroom, letting the scolding host shower awaken his synapses and loosen the tight knots in his body.

Before the water turns cold on him, he washes off and hops out, dressing in tight black trousers, a white button up shirt, and black tie. It is the uniform for this afternoon's catering gig: a gala at some rich, swanky, mansion in celebration of something or other, and where Taehyung tries to be invisible once again. He should be grateful; these jobs always pay well, but when it comes to the horny housewives or husband's groping him, the invariable number of curses tossed his way, or the cleaning of never-ending dishes, Taehyung is tired of his job. It makes being grateful difficult when everyone looks at him as a toy for their own amusement or a speck of dust wafting in the breeze. There is no in between.

He looks at the time after brushing his hair, eyes widening as the neon clock warns him that he's going to be late. He stomps into his worn-out shoes, yanks on a coat, and scrambles from his rundown apartment like it's on fire. He books it to his car, the battered engine roaring to life as he speeds off down the road. He makes it to the catering company with two minutes to spare, letting him catch his breath and straighten his uniform once again.

He's whisked away in work, not paying attention to his thoughts tormenting him. He focuses on packing glasses instead of a burning pair of intense eyes, cleaning utensils instead of chiseled abs, and carrying boxes at the location instead of the skillful mouth that whispered sinful words all that time ago. Or he tries to focus on work. His mind won't break away from his thoughts of Jungkook, and there's an uneasy knot in his gut telling him something is going to happen today. Probably something bad. As he sets up glasses, bottles, plates, and cutlery, he keeps reflecting on this, and finally he can't help his curiosity. He turns to the nearest coworker, clearing his voice softly.

"Hey...who's hosting this shindig anyways...?" he asks, though his coworker just shrugs, moving more glasses to the marble kitchen counter.

"I dunno. Some wealthy ass probably," the other guy grumbles, just as fed up with his job as Taehyung.