I Just Loved You (And I Still Do); Taegi/Taekook

❝too distracted❞

Taehyung heard the door slammed shut. The heavy breathing of Yoongi in front of him. Felt the wood when he was pressed against it. It was rough even through his shirt, but it didn't bother him. Not a bit. He was too distracted. Too distracted by everything that was happening around him and to him at the same time. Too many impressions for a too-small body, too small awareness. He tried to focus on anything. Anything, that seemed worth focussing on. Hot breath against the skin of his neck. He found it; the thing he wanted to focus on. Hands roaming over his body. So small and obedient under the hands of the elder. Long and bony, pale and too much room for too many too naughty thoughts. But Taehyung couldn't help it. Couldn't help it that the sight alone of those hands was enough to destroy everything he had worked on. Not only Taehyung but also Jeongguk.

Jeongguk; what would he think about Taehyung being pressed against a foreign door. A door that wasn't their apartment's one. Pressed by someone who wasn't Jeongguk. And Taehyung would have gulped if he wasn't so distracted by all these impressions. He has wanted to. He hasn't shaken his head and he hasn't pushed Yoongi away. It has been his fault and his wish since the first time he looked in those brown, narrow eyes that almost looked like a triangle. Since he heard the voice, just as deep as his own. Since he fell for this man who wasn't Jeongguk. He has wanted him and he still wanted. Craving for the touch of those hands. Craving for the touch of Yoongi. Wanted to feel him all over his skin. Hot breath, whispered curses, sticky skin and heated air. He hadn't stopped thinking about it since he had laid his eyes on Yoongi and he still didn't.

Now they were there. Taehyung felt hot. So unbelievably hot and he wanted to throw his shirt off, to get out of these clothes that felt too tight to take it anymore. He whined. A small, low sound. But it echoed in the silence of heavy breathing and guilt. Yoongi pressed his lips against Taehyung's and he tasted like passion. Like melodies that gave you goosebumps and midday naps. And Taehyung couldn't help it but compare it to Jeongguk's taste. To Jeongguk's taste that tasted just like Busan and the sea and childishness and overripe maturity. He felt the guilt deep in his belly but maybe he was just horny and it was his fault after all. They didn't make it to the bed and Taehyung didn't mind. He knew the couch. Had spent so many nights and too many touches on this couch. Knew how it creaked and knew how uncomfortable it was to sleep on. He was pushed on the cushion and he missed the taste of Yoongi. A never-ending, never satisfiable ache for something that he couldn't have and never would. And when Yoongi kneed over his crotch he reminded himself that it was a one-time thing. A one-time thing that had happened far too often to be just a one-time thing. Even though he used to tell himself that it was a one-time thing so it would hurt less. So the guilt wouldn't start eating him up. Starting in his chest, eating all the way down his feet until he wasn't able to walk anymore. But Taehyung has always been good at pretending and telling himself the lies others didn't believe. Just like the thing with the one-time thing.

They weren't dumb. They; his friends. Yoongi's. They saw the gazes. Felt the tense air and heard more than they were supposed to do. And Taehyung remembered how Jimin had told him to be honest with him and Jeongguk. To be honest for both their sakes. But Taehyung has always been good at pretending and had said:" I don't know what you're talking about." And then he had left. Because there was too much truth within the lies and the pretending and the truth hurt. He hadn't felt guilty later that day at all when Jeongguk had fucked him into the sheets of their shared bed; in their shared apartment. In their lives, they had started to share. But did it matter now? With another man sucking on his chest, placing kisses and soft bites all over his neck? Did it matter when Yoongi started sucking on Taehyung's nipples and all he could do was whimpering the name of a man that wasn't Jeongguk as it was the only word he knew. Maybe it was. Taehyung felt dizzy. Hot. Not a bit guilty.