Taekook Oneshots

-67-

p a r i s 🌃

(a/n: someone mentioned they wanted jealous Tae... ;)

Taehyung POV

"Stay like that- yeah, don't move."

I call out directions from behind my easel. Jungkook complies, moving his body to my commands. He's naked, except for a long satin shawl that just about covers his privates.

My paintbrush flies across the canvas, filling the blanks with colours. I try my best to bring the painting to life, but there's something about it that just can't capture Jungkook's purity and beauty.

"Not to rush you my love, but how much longer is this going to be?" He asks from his pedestal, whining and breaking facial expression with a solid pout. "My legs ache."

"Almost," I chuckle. "Just the eyes. Your eyes are too hard to capture."

It takes me a while, but I finally settle on it. I announce I'm finished, and Jungkook immediately collapses on a chair, limbs sprawled, the shawl rippling over his pale thighs. I put my brush down, untie my apron and take Jungkook into my arms. His bare skin is cold, but it warms up against me. 

"Can I see it?" He asks, draping a bathrobe around his naked torso. I nod, and turn the canvas around to show him. He admires it in awe.

"Beautiful as always," Jungkook smiles. "Thank you."

"Only because I have a beautiful muse," I reply honestly, causing him to blush. His cheeks are the colours of begonias, and I only wish I could capture the colours on a palette. 

Jungkook kisses my shoulder blade.

"Get changed, baby," He whispers. "The event starts soon."

I hum, and kiss him fully on the lips, before turning to the wardrobe to unhook my suit.

-

"Well, if it isn't the star of the night!"

The guests cheer, and raise their wine glasses. I can only smile, and bow humbly.

"How does it feel to have opened your own gallery, displaying your own works?" The Master of Ceremonies asks.

"Unbelievable," I reply with a smile. "I can only hope all of you enjoy your time here tonight."

The people cheer again.

I walk around the gallery, greeting visitors, making simple conversation, although all of it bores me. Jungkook is what keeps me awake, with him linked on my arm, giving me kisses of encouragement every now and then. 

"I never though that painting would need me to have human interaction," I grumble into Jungkook's ear, and he giggles. "I'd much rather be at home, sketching you."

"Just a few hours more," He assures. "Then you'll get your rest."

We're interrupted by Namjoon, my dearest friend and manager. His face is lit with a huge smile, and he clinks his champagne glass against mine.

"Good lord, man!" He exclaims. "What a party this is, beautiful men and women, the cream of the Korean society!"

I laugh, and pat him on the shoulder.

"It's supposed to be an art exhibition, Namjoon," I remind him. "Not one of your crazy parties."

Obviously, he isn't listening, because his eyes have drifted off to a tall man in the distance, a man so pretty he was on the edge of feminine. It takes me a while to realise he is Kim Seokjin, my cousin who I haven't acquainted since I was just a child.

Before I can offer to introduce them, Namjoon dashes over to him, leaving Jungkook and I to ourselves. I smile to myself, secretly glad that Jin caught his eye. I'm about to refill my glass, when a conversation catches my attention.

Two men, in suits, which I'd never seen before. The painting they're admiring is very familiar to me- a portrait of a bare skinned Jungkook, draped suggestively over our bed. I still remember that night like it was yesterday.

"Would you look at that beauty," One man says rasply. "Look at that cute little ass."

"What a fucking waste of prettiness, given to that painter boy," The other man replies haughtily. "I bet he's a real slut in bed."

That does it. 

I turn around, utterly disgusted and angry. I can't help myself.

I punch them both in the face, grab Jungkook and turn to leave.

-

When we get home, Jungkook is absolutely livid. It takes me a lot of hugs, kisses and pleads to explain to him the situation. When he does listen, he starts to cry.

"They were ridiculing you," I explain, trying to keep in my rage. "I had to do something about it."

Jungkook only leans into me, crying harder, his body frail.

"Please stop crying my love," I say, feeling guilty now. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise, Tae, it's okay," He replies. "You were so brave."

I sniff. "I was?"

Jungkook kisses my jaw softly.

"Yes, you were."

I brush my fingers through his hair, admiring how soft it is in this dry weather.

"Go and wash up," I say, passing him his bathrobe. "I'll be ready to give you consolidation kisses when you finish."

Jungkook laughs, and heads to the bathroom.

-

"Tae?"

"I'm on the balcony."

The door opens, and a soft smelling Jungkook comes flocking into my arms. I take him with open arms, his body heat contrasting with the cold Parisian air.

It's a crescent moon that lights up the sky tonight. It immediately makes me want to paint again, watching the soft white light dancing across the River Siene. 

"Paris is so beautiful at night," Jungkook sighs blissfully. "All the lights, the river."

"Some things just aren't meant to be painted," I say, revelling in the feeling of having an angel in my arms. "Some things are too beautiful to be captured with human things like paint and paper."

Jungkook hums with approval, looking wistfully into the distance. I close my eyes and rest my head on his shoulder. 

"Maybe I should stop painting you," I say suddenly. "It feels unimaginable."

"Why?" Jungkook asks, confused.

"I- I'm afraid my painting skills aren't doing you justice," I admit. "How do I paint someone so... ethereal?"

Jungkook blushes. This time, the colour of baby gardenias. I cup his cheek in my hand, and kiss him gently, softly. Our lips move in sync, pushing and pulling. My eyes flutter open, and I see how the streetlights are reflecting his irises. 

"My pretty little muse," I whisper. "I'd paint you forever, in every colour."

Jungkook smiles lovingly.

"And I'll be your muse forever, my artist."