𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 | 𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐅𝐅 | ✔

In which they talks

In which they talk

Jungkook rushed to the unconscious beauty, quickly shutting off the shower before gathering Taehyung in his arms. Cradling him gently, he returned to the bedroom and laid him on the bed.

For a moment, Jungkook just looked at him—his breath caught in his chest. Taehyung lay drenched, water droplets trailing down his delicate, fragile frame. His wet shorts clung to soft curves and padded hips, and Jungkook’s breath hitched again. He averted his gaze—only to have it caught once more by the sight of Taehyung’s collarbones, rising and falling beneath the translucent white shirt, now plastered to his skin. Pink pecks peeked through the wet fabric, inviting and innocent.

Jungkook swallowed, his lips dry. His hand moved on its own, brushing lightly over the warm, buttery skin—tracing along collarbones, down to the soft curve of Taehyung’s waist. It was maddeningly beautiful. He started to breathe heavier, chest tightening as desire stirred within him.

But then he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his hand away.

No. Not like this. He shook his head, trying to erase the thoughts. This isn’t the time. He needs care, not desire. You have forever to build memories with him—just not tonight.

He went to grab a towel and clean clothes. It was early December—Taehyung could fall seriously ill if left in his wet clothes. But a dilemma clawed at his conscience. How could he change Taehyung’s clothes without making him feel violated? Without doing something he might regret? He’d never seen him like this—only imagined the softness of his skin. And just moments ago, he’d nearly lost control of himself.

Come on, idiot. Close your eyes and do it. You’re responsible for him now.

Jungkook scolded himself. With a deep breath, he approached the sleeping figure. Shutting his eyes tightly, he began unbuttoning the soaked shirt with trembling fingers. Every movement required willpower, but eventually, he managed to change him.

---

It was morning when Taehyung woke.

As usual, Jungkook wasn’t there—but this time, it triggered panic. The silver-haired boy sat up in bed, his heart thundering as his thoughts spiraled out of control. Tears spilled from his eyes without warning.

Jungkook left. He left me…

Of course he would. Who would stay with someone like me? I’m nothing but trouble. Dirty. Pathetic.

He began to cry harder, curling into himself as anguish took over.

The door burst open.

Jungkook rushed inside, heart pounding. When he saw Taehyung sobbing on the bed, he immediately ran to him, wrapping him in his arms.

“Shh, baby, I’m here… It’s okay,” he whispered, stroking his back gently. But Taehyung only sobbed harder and began pushing him away—something he’d never done before, not even during panic attacks.

Jungkook froze, confused but refusing to budge. Instead, he held him tighter. “Tae, baby, calm down… It’s me. I’m here. Just breathe, okay?”

“Jungkook… will you leave me?”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed. “What? No. Baby, why would I ever leave you? I love you. Don’t say that.”

But Taehyung only shook his head. “You don’t know me. I’m not… pure anymore. I’m stained with filth and pain. My past isn’t what you think.”

“I know, baby. I know everything. And listen to me—you’re as pure as the day you were born. You’re not dirty. You’re not disgusting. Believe me.”