keep singing this lie (7) | kth + jjk
Summary:Â Black Swan, an up-and-coming alternative metal rock band, is going on its first official tour. Jungkook looks forward to proving himself in a cutthroat industry, and Taehyung looks forward to the groupies. Neither expects to find the comfort their hearts truly desire in one another.
Pairing:Â Drummer Taehyung x Singer Jungkook
Chapter Rating:Â Explicit
Chapter WC: 5,535
Chapter CW:Â Yoongi is a villain!!, Jealous Taehyung, Anal Fingering (in public), I got really emotional writing this chapter (and the next one) i'm ngl
A/N:Â i spent a lot of time reworking the outline for this fic cuz i didn't like what i had written/where i wanted the story to go. i updated the chapter count and now i'm scared LOL. anywayyy, i apologize for leaving this on a cliffhanger but i've been feeling miserable about not posting regularly lately (it's the Depression and ADHD), so i hope you'll think "a cliffhanger update is better than no update"
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Taehyung doesnât know if consuming sweets for breakfast is a unique tradition in the U.S., but for some reason it was the thing that set him off when he followed Jimin to the other side of the world. It wasnât getting a passport, navigating visas, or sneaking out of his familyâs apartment in the early hours to catch a red-eye flight that broke him. With a less-than-beginnerâs vocabulary and wide eyes, Taehyung sat down at some dingy diner a fifteen-minute drive from Chicago OâHare International Airport, his lone suitcase crammed under the table alongside Jiminâs, and nearly burst into tears when the waitress slid a stack of chocolate chip-loaded pancakes in front of him.
In all honesty, Taehyung canât remember why he got so upset. Had his eyes welled with tears of joy? Was he horrified by the sugary monstrosity? There was something about the transition from kimchi to sticky syrup that he hadnât been prepared for.
Taehyung runs his tongue over his front teeth and remembers how heâd gagged after eating a spoonful of butter, thinking it had been a scoop of ice cream. Now, he sits in front of fluffy pancakes topped with assorted berries and powdered sugar, and a large salted caramel latte off to the side, and tries not to consider how much of him is still exactly the same.
âI feel like Iâm too dirty to be here,â Seokjin whispers against the side of Taehyungâs face. Taehyung wants to turn and laugh, but he canât break away from Jungkookâs smiling face.
Across the table, Jungkook sits close enough to Yoongi that they keep bumping elbows while they eat. It turns out Agust D isnât the pretentious, selfish, famous musician Taehyung had expected him to be.
Well, Taehyung thinks heâs pretentious, but the rest of Black Swan disagrees, so what the fuck does he know?
Two days after Spine Breaker, theyâre sitting in a boutique cafe in the festival cityâs downtown, racking up a bill that will total more than what their gigs sometimes offer. Yoongi said heâll cover it, along with the expense of reserving the back room so they would have more privacy as they ate brunch. Because apparently Yoongi gets recognized when he goes out, and finds it âtiresomeâ. Taehyung wouldnât know.
âDo you like living in New York?â Jimin asks Yoongi, pulling Taehyung from his thoughts to return to the conversationâif one can call it that. It has mostly been a Q&A with the alternative rapper, just shy of an interrogation from two eager fans.
âItâs definitely entertaining,â Yoongi offers with a shrug. He leans back in his chair, swirls his champagne flute, the bright orange mimosa twirling at a leisurely pace that matches his relaxed posture. âI prefer Chicago, though. I spend time there more than New York, when I can.â
âReally?â Jungkookâs eyes grow wide. âWeâre from Chicago!â
Iâm from Daegu, Taehyung wants to interject. But he bites the inside of his cheek and tries not to think about how pink Jungkookâs cheeks get when Yoongi touches his shoulder.
âNo wonder youâre so talented. I swear, Chicago produces the best talent. The music scene is more genuine.â Yoongiâs grin is gummy and sweet, or so Jimin said after they met at the Agust D meet and greet during Spine Breaker Fest.
Apparently, Black Swanâs performance, as well as Jimin and Jungkookâs auras, had made such an impression on Yoongi that he wanted to spend his last day in town with them.
Taehyung and Seokjin had stayed behind for the meet and greet, trying to finish cleaning out the Emo Mobile before dusk. Since the festival lasted all weekend, they got to camp out at the RV lot, an insignificant speck of rust and puke green metal in a sea of high-end tour buses. Sure, there were plenty of bands at Spine Breaker who were just as ragtag of a group as Black Swan, but Taehyung likes to pretend theyâre the only ones. Rather than be ashamed, he feels a sense of pride in making it to a festival that big with what little resources and industry pull they have. Black Swan is for everyday misfits just trying to make it out alive.
Unlike Yoongi, with his gold Rolex and black card.
Well, maybe itâs not really a Rolex or a black card. Maybe itâs just an average watch and Yoongi actually has major credit card debt. Maybe Taehyung is grinding his molars and thinking about punching that smug grin off Yoongiâs face as Jimin and Jungkook gush over how cool it is to be getting brunch with their favorite musician.
Fuck, he needs about twenty mimosas right now. This conversation would be so much less painful if he could get even a little tipsy.
Taehyung gulps down his water. Just as heâs about to put the glass back, a waiter arrives with a huge pitcher and refills it without a word. Being doted on by a stranger makes Taehyungâs skin crawl.
âAnd what about you, Taehyung?â Yoongi asks after taking a sip of his mimosa. His eyebrows arch in anticipation.
Taehyung doesnât mean to snap, but his response is dry and clipped. âWhat.â
Jimin narrows his eyes at Taehyung over his mimosa, poured in a standard water glass because he always spills champagne flutes.
âIs this the life youâve always imagined as a musician?â Something about Yoongiâs tone sounds condescending, like Taehyung hasnât met some standard he isnât aware of.
Taehyung crosses his arms against his chest with a snort. âItâs Black Swan or nothing.â
âYeah,â Seokjin adds through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. Heâs only half-listening; Taehyung doesnât blame him.
Yoongiâs grin widens, and Taehyung hates it.
âLoyalty, I admire that,â Yoongi says, like itâs some fantastic feat.
Taehyung holds Yoongiâs gaze. âThatâs how itâs supposed to be.â
Beside Yoongi, Jungkook squirms in his seat. His front teeth nibble at his lip ring. Taehyung only feels a little bad.
âI suppose,â Yoongi shrugs before tipping his head back to finish the last of his mimosa. âSometimes that line of thinking is a bit stifling, though, isnât it?â
Jimin and Jungkook lock onto every word that comes out of Yoongiâs mouth, like this cafe is a riverbed and Yoongi is Jesus preparing a baptism. Taehyungâs gaze slides to Seokjin for backup, but heâs shoveling more food in his mouth.
âI donât know. Is it?â
Yoongi interlocks his fingers under his chin and lets his eyes roam Taehyungâs face. âTake Jungkook, for example.â
Jungkook perks up after hearing his name. It makes Taehyungâs stomach flip.
âWhat about him?â Taehyung asks, attempting to level his voice this time.
âHeâs brilliant, isnât he? You rarely come across vocals like his in a genre like this. Thereâs so much he could doâ â Yoongi waves one hand in a sweeping motion across the table â âa whole assortment of opportunities, laid out like a buffet, to pick apart.â
âSo true,â Jimin says, nodding along. âWe could experiment more with our music, if we wanted to. I donât know why we havenât.â
The conversation morphs into a discussion about musicians who have changed their musical style over time, from Bring Me the Horizon to Mac Miller. Taehyung plops a strawberry in his mouth and wonders what the point is. Black Swan is fine how they are. What theyâve been doing is what got them to Spine Breaker Fest, right? Now that theyâve finally got more eyes on them, why would they switch things up?
For the rest of brunch, Taehyung falls into himself, a quiet observer. It helps that Seokjin seems uninterested in the conversation, too. The two men exchange remarks with one another, content with carrying on their own side conversation about Taehyung accidentally staining the pristine white tablecloth and Seokjin coming back from the bathroom, flustered from not knowing how to flush the fancy toilet.
Seokjin and Taehyung get so caught up in avoiding their peers that Taehyung almost misses Yoongiâs departing message.
âReally, though, I meant what I said earlier,â Yoongi talks like heâs speaking to all four of them, but he has his arm draped around Jungkookâs shoulders as they exit the cafeâs front doors.
âAre you sure?â Jungkook is cute when heâs hesitant, like every word he says is intentional, mulled over in his head before he speaks. Meanwhile, Taehyung thinks the filter between his thoughts and words is broken.
Outside, the heat prickles the back of Taehyungâs neck. He misses how much gentler the summer is back homeâin Chicago, not home home. He can hardly remember summer at home.
âWe can plan a time to meet up at my studio once Iâm back in town. By that point, Iâll have a key you can keep.â
âThatâs so generous,â Jungkook smiles, his gaze bouncing between Yoongi and Jimin. âI, um, I donât evenâŚâ
Taehyung and Seokjin trail behind the other three with furrowed eyebrows. Seokjin is frowning at a text message from his landlord complaining that his mailbox is filling up from being away from home for so long. Taehyung is frowning at how Yoongiâs large hand curls around Jungkookâs bare shoulder exposed by his sleeveless tank shirt.
âOur little Kookoo-yah isnât good with words sometimes,â Jimin says with a giggle, the softest thing about him other than the glee in his eyes.
Jungkook laughs softly, ducking his head. Yoongi doesnât know that Jungkook doesnât like being touched by strangers. Taehyung knows, though.
âItâs really kind of you,â Jungkook finally says once Yoongi lets him go.
Yoongi shrugs, so nonchalant, like heâs offering anything less than a professional studio Black Swan could never afford. They practice in Seokjinâs garage and rent out a recording room downtown once theyâve got the money saved upâbut only until theyâre done.
âI saw how you all perform,â Yoongi continues. âYouâve got something people need these days. Iâd be fucking stupid not to help you out.â
Even Seokjin expresses his gratitude, shaking Yoongiâs hand once they reach the parking lot. The Emo Mobile looks like Shrek parked next to Yoongiâs Prince Charming of a Mercedes.
âHave safe travels back to the city. Iâll see you around.â
Yoongi bows his head, a gesture thatâs quick and sharp. He doesnât offer Taehyung his hand, just smiles like he knows Taehyung wouldnât shake it and doesnât care either way.
âThat whole experience was kind of fucking crazy, if you think about it,â Seokjin says once the band is in the van and Yoongi is long gone. âReally fucking weird, but in a good way, I guess.â
âWeird? Are you kidding? Agust D thinks weâre hot shit!â Jimin screeches just loud enough in a confined space to give Taehyung an immediate piercing headache.
Seokjin hits the curb when he pulls out of the parking lot, jostling Taehyung in the passenger seat. It makes Taehyung realize he hasnât put his seatbelt on yet, too busy staring out the window at himself in the side-view mirror.
âItâs definitely weird,â Taehyung says after Jimin finishes gushing about how cool and smart Yoongi is. âWhy the fuck does he care what weâre doing?â
Seokjin gives Taehyung a sideways glance, just long enough to jut his chin in an upward nod, before he focuses on the road again. Taehyung doesnât get why Seokjin wonât back him up. Seokjin is the unofficial leader; he should do something.
Annoyed, Taehyung turns toward the window again. He props his head up by resting his elbow on the window and holding his chin in his hand. The summer heat ruffles his bangs like hot breath blown across his face, winning against the tired blow of the Emo Mobileâs air conditioning.
âAnd, oh my god, he was so fucking hot,â Jimin gushes. âThat long orange hairâŚâ
From the back of the van, Jimin and Jungkook talk amongst themselves, accepting that Seokjin and Taehyung arenât going to match their level of enthusiasm.
âIt was different seeing him in person, definitely,â Jungkook says with a small laugh.
Seokjin taps Taehyung on the shoulder with the aux cord without looking away from the road. Nodding, Taehyung pulls his phone from his back pocket and turns up the volume on the radio.
#
Taehyung isnât a jealous person. He doesnât care enough about what other people do to get jealous, and most people who know him would easily confirm that his ego is so big that itâs unlikely he even has the capacity to get jealous. So when Jimin asks Taehyung if heâs jealous after he learns Jungkook has been texting Yoongi ever since they met for brunch, Taehyung laughs in Jiminâs face.
âWhy the fuck would I be jealous?â he scoffs, staring up at Jimin from his hotel bed. Theyâre back to booking two rooms, but this time they each have their own bed. Luxurious, truly.
Yoongi probably never has to share a bed with anyone while on tour.
Taehyung lies horizontal across the bed with his head hanging off the side. Jimin looks funny upside down, putting makeup on in front of the floor-length mirror. Taehyung has to wait for him to finish applying mascara on his eyelashes before he can start talking again.
âYou were being a dick the whole time we were hanging out.â Jimin points the mascara wand in Taehyungâs direction and sighs when he realizes Taehyung is back to scrolling on his phone.
âThatâs just how I am.â
Jimin snorts. âYeah, okay. You got me there!â Only Jimin can sarcastically do jazz hands in Taehyungâs direction and make him feel just a little regretful.
âYou and Jungkook were up his ass for no reason,â Taehyung says as he rolls over onto his stomach. âLike what does he know about us, to be giving us all this advice and making all these assumptions? He doesnât know jack shit.â
Meeting Taehyungâs eyes through the mirror, Jimin gives him a deadpan stare. âThat is literally just what being nice is, Kim Taehyung. I know you wouldnât understand.â
When Taehyung throws up a middle finger, Jimin sends one right back through the mirror. âExhibit A!â
Taehyung knows Jimin is right, deep down inside. He knows heâs jealous, but not because of Jungkook. Of course not. Heâs jealous of how easily Agust D has it, and how easily he swept in and charmed two of his bandmates. Thatâs it.
âWhen are you leaving?â Taehyung asks as he scours Twitter for Spine Breaker Fest reactions and content. Taehyung ruffles his bangs into his eyes. He needs to ask Jimin to trim them. âAnd why are you even in here? Why arenât you getting ready in your room?â
The lighting in the hotel room isnât great, tinting everything with a sickly yellow hue rather than the cold white Taehyung would see better in. So when a soft pink blush blooms across Jiminâs cheeks, Taehyung canât tell if itâs really there or if the lighting is playing with his eyesight.
âHyung is busy talking to Jungkook,â Jimin says. Taehyung waits for him to explain further, but Jiminâs lips form a pretty circle as he applies a pale pink gloss.
Taehyung furrows his eyebrows. âTalking about what?â
Jimin shrugs. âIâm not responsible for what Seokjin hyung does.â
With a quiet, âOkayâ, Taehyung continues scrolling through Twitter, sufficiently deterred by Jiminâs use of Seokjinâs real name. No Jin or Jinnie hyung in sight. Whateverâs got the two of them pissed at each other is none of Taehyungâs business. Heâs not even going out with them tonight. As much as Taehyung loves hanging out with Hoseok and Namjoon, he knows spending their last night in town drinking before they start the long journey back home isnât a great idea.
A few weeks ago, Taehyung would have been pouring shots for everyone in the hotel roomâs little kitchenette. Tonight, heâs waiting in his swim trunks for his bandmates to leave. Another night suffocating the itch in his chest with hot tub steam and muggy summer air will do him some good.
Or so Taehyung thinks until the door beeps open and Jungkook enters with glassy red eyes and pink cheeks. Taehyung sits up fast enough that he sees black spots in his vision. They speckle the room, blocking out Jiminâs look of concern in the mirror and Jungkook rubbing the back of his hand across his nose.
âWhatâs wrong?â Taehyung asks, watching Jungkook slip past Jimin to grab his duffel bag on the other side of the room.
âNothing,â Jungkook says with his chin ducked against his chest as he digs inside his bag. When Jungkook pulls out his own pair of swim trunks, Taehyungâs stomach flips.
âYouâre not coming with us?â Jimin drops his black eyeshadow in his makeup bag. Despite the pink lip gloss, his outfit is as punk as ever, an all-black collection of straps, chains, and mesh. Itâs admirable how done-up Jimin gets and how seriously he takes social gatherings when he knows theyâre opportunities to market Black Swan.
Without Jungkook at Hoseok and Namjoonâs party, though, it wonât be the same. Seokjin doesnât know how to use TikTok properly or schmooze with people the way Jungkook does. Theyâre learned skills, nothing Jungkook particularly enjoys, but he performs well.
And without Taehyung, thereâs no sex appealâno offense to Jimin or Seokjin. Itâs just obvious that they arenât in it for the pleasure they could get. Sometimes it pisses Taehyung off. He feels like the delinquent of the group in more ways than one. Why is he the odd one out? Theyâre in the business of drugs, sex, and rock ân roll, arenât they? But the moment Taehyung acts on it, heâs suddenly the bad guy.
âYou know I hate parties,â Jungkook says with a sigh, tossing his swim trunks on the bed. âWe have a really long drive home the next few days, and weâre leaving early in the morning. You and Jin hyung are gonna be hungover and Taehyungie isnât good at waking up, so Iâll have to drive.â
Jungkook isnât wrong, even though Taehyung hates when the guys bring up his little âsleepy jazz incidentâ behind the wheel. Early starts during a road trip suck.
âThatâs fair,â Jimin concedes, though he doesnât seem happy with Jungkookâs decision. It doesnât matter; no one would dare make the maknae do anything he doesnât want to do.
Still, Jimin gives Taehyung a stern look once Jungkook disappears into the bathroom to change. Taehyung glares at him right back. Thereâs nothing behind the mean look but confusion.
âWhat? I didnât say anything,â Taehyung says, voice hushed in case Jungkook hears them above the hum of the air conditioning.
âIâm notâŚâ Jimin fidgets with the chain hanging from his belt loops. âI didnât mean to imply you said anything.â
Taehyung wants to press Jimin, force him to let out whatever weird shit is going on with Jungkook the past few days. It has to be Yoongiâs fault; Taehyung is sure of it. Who else couldâve said something to make Jungkook upset?
But then Jungkook is back. Taehyung tries not to focus on Jungkookâs bare chest and the ridges of his abdomen, instead keeping his gaze on Jungkookâs pretty doe eyes still slightly puffy.
âAre you cool with me going to the hot tub with you?â Jungkook watches Taehyung like heâs waiting for rejection.
As if Taehyung could ever tell Jungkook no.
âOh, yeah, thatâs cool.â
Gathering up his makeup bag, Jimin leans against the dresser with the bag hugged against his chest and watches Taehyung and Jungkook. âIâm gonna talk to hyung, see if heâs ready,â he says while Jungkook shoves his balled up clothes in his duffel bag. âIâll let you know once we leave.â
âThank you,â Jungkook says softly. âI hope you guys have fun.â He exchanges small smiles with Jimin with a gentleness Taehyung could only wish he possessed.
Taehyung leaves his phone on the bed, not interested in being burdened with it. This is his new ritual, apparently. It seems every other night he skips out on the parties, instead searching for solitude. Heâs gotten lucky; so far, heâs visited the hotel hot tubs when thereâs no one else around.
âReady?â Jungkook asks. Â
âAlways am.â
Jungkookâs grin makes Taehyungâs stomach flip. âShut the fuck up, hyung.â
Make me, is what Taehyung wants to say. He bites his tongue instead and wonders what has gotten into him.
The sign nailed to the gate surrounding the outdoor pool notifies Taehyung and Jungkook that the pool and hot tub hours have long since ended. Itâs around ten oâclock at night, and the facilities are outside. Jungkook clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth when Taehyung taps his hotel keycard against the gateâs electronic lock.
Taehyung grins smugly when the gate opens with a beep and a flash of green light.
âWhatâs the worst thing that could happen?â Taehyung asks as he holds open the gate for Jungkook to pass through. âAn employee will see us out here and make us leave.â
âThey could kick us out of our room.â
Jungkookâs point is far-fetched in Taehyungâs opinion. He gives Jungkook a look, head tilted to one side, and his lips pursed. Either way, it doesnât matter; Jungkook follows Taehyung past the large, in-ground pool to the hot tub on the far corner of the recreation area.
The hot tub is a lot fancier than Taehyung expected. Itâs also in-ground, with decorative rocks and healthy foliage surrounding it to give it a secluded, tropical feel, like a hot spring. Taehyung takes the few steps that lead him into the hot tub while Jungkook turns it on. The bubbles rumble to life and the waterâs temperature increases.
âFuck, this feels so good,â Taehyung groans. He sinks until the water reaches past his collarbones.
Jungkook laughs and sits on the shelf lining the inner perimeter of the hot tub to serve as seats. The water only goes up to his chest, which is already flushing light pink from the heat. Taehyung keeps his eyes on Jungkookâs face.
âTense?â Jungkook asks.
There are so many ways Taehyung could answer the one-word question. It bothers him because it shouldnât be difficult. The answer is so obvious, so straightforward.
âYeah,â Taehyung takes a deep breath and remembers that hot tubs always make his chest feel tight, âmostly my wrists and biceps. The vibrating impact of the drums really gets to me sometimes.â
âI canât imagine performing like that so much,â Jungkook says with a shake of his head. âI feel bad. All I have to do is stand there.â
âYou do more than just stand there,â Taehyung counters. âYou get the crowd hyped, you fucking sing, Koo. Most people canât sing like you. I know that takes a lot out of you.â
Taehyung doesnât know why heâs getting so defensive over this. Maybe itâs because the steam of the hot tub and the thick summer air are making it hard for him to breathe. He moves to sit on the inner shelf like Jungkook, the water at his chest, and inhales until his lungs burn.
âStop selling yourself short all the time,â he continues when Jungkook says nothing.
They stare at each other from across the hot tub. It isnât big; Taehyung could reach Jungkook if he stuck his leg out and kicked him. He kind of wants to, for some reason. But the hot tub still gives them enough space to spread out. Itâs good. Theyâre sitting close enough.
After a while, Jungkook snorts. He shakes his head slowly, eyes gliding from Taehyungâs face to stare off into the trees that line the perimeter of the property, hiding it away from the world around it. Taehyung thinks heâd like to be hidden, too.
âYou have a really weird way of expressing affection. Do you know that, hyung?â
Taehyung sticks out his arms and flexes his wrists beneath the bubbling water. He forgot to take off his bracelets.
âYeah. I know.â
Blood rushes in waves against Taehyungâs eardrums as Jungkook slips further into the water. He watches with silent, shallow breaths as Jungkook moves toward him, the water lapping at his chest.
Taehyung is just overheating from the hot tub.
âWant me to give you a massage?â Jungkookâs soft words get swept up by the roaring in Taehyungâs ears.
âItâs fine. Iâm fine.â Taehyung rubs his hands together under the water and uses the moisture to slick his hair back.
Jungkook grins with the scrunched nose expression that makes Taehyung cave every time. Itâs funny how Taehyung thinks he will do anything for Jungkook and the whole band, but the real things they want from him arenât anything he wants to sacrifice his interests for. It makes sense in his head; he canât be everything, but he can try. Just not right now.
The problem is, he thinks he doesnât understand what Jungkook wants.
When Jungkook takes Taehyungâs hand in his own and begins massaging it, Taehyung lets out a long sigh and closes his eyes. Jungkook kneads the meaty part of Taehyungâs palm, just below his thumb. His muscles are sore and fatigued, but the pressure feels good.
âItâs the grip of the drumsticks that get me,â Taehyung speaks above the rush of blood in his head, even as it drains lower. âI think Iâm gonna use my cut of the check to get a real massage.â
âAm I not good enough for you?â
Taehyungâs eyes are still closed, but he can hear the teasing tone in Jungkookâs voice. The question makes him feel bad anyway. âKoo, donât do that to me.â
âDo what?â
Taehyung squirms slightly when Jungkook tugs on his fingers, releasing the tension within his joints. Thereâs so much he wants to say, but he canât. His chest is still tight, and he still canât look at Jungkook, even though when his eyes are closed, all he sees is Jungkookâs beautiful face.
Letting out a soft sigh, Jungkook shifts closer to Taehyung. His touch is soft, though powerful. Taehyung considers how true that is of Jungkook as a person.
âTalk to me, Tae,â he sounds patient, but itâs the kind of patience thatâs barely keeping exasperation at bay, despite being rooted in it.
âWhat do you wanna talk about?â
Taehyung knows, but he needs Jungkook to start it. He wants to be the bandâs protector, but the truth is that he isnât brave. Jungkook was right; Taehyung runs.
Jungkook keeps Taehyungâs arm underwater as he moves on to massage his wrist. The warmth of the water and Jungkookâs soft, gentle hands feel so good. Taehyung still doesnât open his eyes; he just basks in the unusual attention. He lets out a low groan when Jungkookâs hands eventually glide upward, thumbs digging into the tense muscles of his forearm. The closer he gets to Taehyungâs bicep, the more tingly Taehyungâs body feels. He tries to keep quiet, but Jungkook plays him like he knows exactly where to press and rub to make Taehyung feel like jelly under his touch.
Why is it making Taehyung hard?
Maybe itâs because of how intimate the sensations are, being rubbed down while smooth and wet, with the warmth of the hot tubâs bubbly water lapping at his body with each of Jungkookâs movements. Perhaps itâs because Jungkookâs leg presses against Taehyungâs. Or itâs because how Jungkook holds Taehyungâs arm makes his hand rest on the top of his bare thigh.
Maybe itâs none of those things.
âPlease look at me,â Jungkook asks in a tone that makes Taehyungâs stomach drop.
Jungkookâs cheeks and chest are flushed light pink, matching his pretty lips, the bottom one pulled in by his teeth. His bangs are messy from the humidity the hot tub creates. They stick to his forehead in waves that complement the wolf cut he still hasnât asked Jimin to get rid of. Taehyung shivers despite the warm water jets.
âYeah?â Taehyung forces himself to meet Jungkookâs eyes.
âI canât stop thinking about kissing you.â The look on Jungkookâs face makes Taehyungâs chest crack.
Taehyungâs heart jumps into his throat. He licks his lips, gaze dropping to Jungkookâs. God, he wants to say it. He wants to, so badly, to dig inside the rot thatâs in his chest and grab hold of the brave part of himself buried away. It must be there.
âFuck.â Taehyung smooths his hair back with the hand Jungkook isnât holding. He shakes his head and lets out a dark laugh, something tainted with disbelief.
âTae?â
âWhat are we doing?â Taehyungâs voice is a hoarse whisper.
Jungkookâs tongue finds his lip piercing, then the inside of his cheek. All pink-cheeked and glassy-eyed, heâs so endearing, so warm, so hot. Taehyung feels like he canât breathe.
âReleasing pent-up tension?â Jungkook says with a rare smirk that makes Taehyungâs stomach flip.
Of course Jungkook would bring up that excuse again. Taehyung chuckles, his head tilting towards the sky as he chases a sudden breeze. When he faces Jungkook again, he watches him with a mixture of amusement and affection.
âYou got jokes, huh?â
âI thought youâd probably need a laugh. Youâve been so fucking pouty ever since we hung out with Yoongi.â
âShut up.â Taehyung rolls his eyes, but Jungkookâs hand tightens around his bicep to keep him from shoving him away. âI havenât been pouting. Jimin put that idea in your head, didnât he?â
âMhm.â Jungkook grins and bites his bottom lip.
âNot very punk of him to lie on his best friend like that,â Taehyung says, hardly knowing whatâs coming out of his mouth.
Jungkook shrugs. âI donât know. I kinda thought it was cute, you being all⌠protective.â
When Jungkook tugs Taehyungâs arm, the pressure is slight, yet Taehyung follows like itâs the easiest thing in the world to do.
âYou know I donât need it though, right?â Jungkook slides his hand up Taehyungâs bicep until he reaches his shoulder. His palm leaves goosebumps in its wake, making Taehyungâs skin tingle.
A sudden rush of warmth spreads from Taehyungâs groin upward, flooding his body as Jungkook grabs his shoulder to push him back against the wall of the hot tub. He inhales deeply and tries to blink away the sudden dizziness he feels.
âNeed what?â he asks, and Jungkook giggles. Itâs a sweet sound that doesnât match the sensual slide of Jungkookâs arm around Taehyung shoulders. It takes all of Taehyungâs energy to focus on what Jungkook is saying and not only on his lips.
âProtectionâ â Jungkookâs tongue plays with his lip piercing â âbecause I can take care of myself.â
âUh huh,â Taehyung nods through the throbbing of his cock and the fluttering in his chest. âYeah, Koo.â
Jungkook tucks a strand of damp hair behind his ear. So coy, so deceiving. Taehyung can practically taste his words when Jungkook leans in and says, âYouâre so hot when you get like this.â
Taehyung has no idea what âlike thisâ means. It doesnât matter.
Brave isnât a word Taehyung would use to describe himself. But despite his nerves, he swallows his heart and leans in to capture Jungkookâs mouth, not waiting to be asked.
Any of Jungkookâs pleas are silenced with a bite of his bottom lip. Taehyung carefully avoids Jungkookâs piercing when he tugs on his lip with a low groan, sucking it into his mouth, and remembers he really fucking enjoys kissing Jungkook. He doesnât care that Jungkook tastes like chlorine.
Jungkook follows the glide of Taehyungâs lips, and every one of his whimpers and sighs reverberates through Taehyungâs body. The heavy burden of fear blanketing Taehyungâs heart lifts as Jungkook climbs into his lap. Rather than drown, he feels anchored by the weight of Jungkookâs body. His hands find Jungkookâs waist to guide him as Jungkook straddles him. It must not be comfortable for Jungkook to have his knees pressed into the shelf around the hot tubâs inner walls so he can bracket Taehyungâs thighs, but he doesnât seem to care.
âYouâre already hard,â Jungkook murmurs against Taehyungâs swollen lips. The question sounds mocking, but Jungkook gives Taehyung a soft, adoring look when he leans back.
Is Jungkook actually asking him this question? Like as if he doesnât already know exactly what kind of mess he turns Taehyung into?
âYeah,â Taehyungâs voice comes out thick and gravelly. âIâve been hard ever since you started giving me a massage.â His lips quirk faintly despite the heat surging through his body. âIs... is that a bad thing?â
Taehyung licks chlorine from his lips and keeps them parted as Jungkook wiggles his ass right on top of his cock. His breathing comes out ragged and loud enough to be heard over the hot tubâs bubbling jets.
Water splashes between them as Jungkook rolls his hips to grind against Taehyung. Their bodies slide with ease, slippery, wet, and hot. When Taehyung lets out a low moan, Jungkook smiles. âNo, itâs not a bad thing.â
Having Jungkookâs weight in his lap feels good. More than goodâit feels grounding. He chases the challenge of coaxing out Jungkookâs moans, just to feel the way Jungkookâs body tenses and trembles in response. Yet Jungkook beats him at his own game.
Jungkook digs his fingers in Taehyungâs hair, tugging on the wet strands and forcing Taehyungâs head whichever way he wants. Taehyung gasps as Jungkookâs teeth playfully drag along his bottom lip, catching it just long enough to suck before he dives back in even messier.
But then Taehyung breaks away, tipping his head back and sucking in the summer air. The reprieve of sparkling stars and a moment to breathe is short-lived. Jungkookâs mouth latches onto his throat with enough force that Taehyung knows the skin will bloom with a deep bruise. He sucks hard, his tongue swirling and lapping up water and sweat, making Taehyungâs skin pebble with pleasure.
âTae.â The breathlessness of Jungkook's voice goes straight to Taehyungâs cock, twitching and straining painfully against his swim trunks, trapped under Jungkookâs weight.
âKoo,â Taehyung groans, âyou said we gotta talk.â
âOh, now you want to?â Jungkook murmurs against the curve of Taehyungâs ear. His breath is hot, teasing. âAbout what?â He flicks Taehyungâs earlobe with the tip of his tongue, drawing a sharp gasp from Taehyung. âAbout how badly I wish I could have you?â
Taehyungâs breath hitches. âHave me?â he asks through a shaky sigh, barely holding himself together as Jungkookâs lips close around his earlobe, nibbling it gently.
Fuck, Jungkookâs mouth.
âYeah, have youâ â Jungkook grinds down harder â âinside me.â
âJesus Christ,â Taehyung hisses, his hips jerking upward.
Desire burns Taehyung so severely, searing him from the inside while the hot tub and Jungkookâs body heat boil him on the outside. Heâs panting so hard he feels like he might pass out, not to mention how terribly his heart pounds in his chest. He keeps reminding himself, this is Jungkook. And, yeah, it is. Thatâs why Taehyung is so fucking hard.
âI can make you feel good,â Jungkook promises, just like he had when he swallowed Taehyung all the way to the base.
Jungkook isnât one to break promises. Taehyung isnât one to tell him no.
Itâs desperate how they grind against each other, Jungkook bucking against Taehyung with enough force that their swim trunks ride up their thighs. The jets have long since shut off, bubbles dying down; Jungkook and Taehyung make their own waves with the slap of skin splashing water around their bodies.
Each roll of Jungkookâs hips drags his ass along the length of Taehyungâs cock. Taehyung is fully hard now, clearly outlined by the thin, clingy material of his swim trunks. He can feel it slide between Jungkookâs ass cheeks. Itâs maddening, pure torture, especially when Jungkook grinds down harder on the head of his cock, paying special attention to the sensitive spot.
âTouch me, Tae,â Jungkook moans into his ear.
Itâs not a plea this timeâitâs a command, one Taehyung couldnât ignore even if he wanted to. His hands slide down from Jungkookâs waist until they cup the curve of his ass. He squeezes a few times, admiring how firm the muscles are, how perfectly Jungkook fits in his palms like he was meant to.
Jungkook lets out a rough groan, his head falling forward onto Taehyungâs shoulder as Taehyung guides his movements, drawing them out. Each rut is deliberate nowâslow, steady, dragging Jungkookâs ass from the tip of Taehyungâs cock to the base in lazy, torturous thrusts. Jungkook curls his arms around Taehyungâs neck and pulls their bodies flush together as he captures Taehyungâs mouth once again, moaning into him when one of Taehyungâs hands slides down the back of his swim trunks.
Taehyung keeps a hand firmly on Jungkookâs ass, pulling one cheek back so he can wiggle his other hand further down his shorts. âTell me what you like,â Taehyung murmurs against Jungkookâs lips. His fingers only tremble slightly when he ghosts them over Jungkookâs hole. He's making a huge assumption about what exactly it is that Jungkook does like, but Jungkook's reaction tells him that maybe sometimes trusting his gut isn't the worst fucking thing in the world to do.
âThatâs, wowââ Jungkook ducks his face into the crook of Taehyungâs neck. His breath comes out in ragged bursts. âIt feels so weird being on the receiving end of you talking like that.â
âYeah? That mean youâre into it?â Taehyung smirks despite the frantic pounding of his heart. Theyâre crossing a line that thereâs no coming back from, and Taehyung doesnât careânot anymore.
Jungkook angles his hips to push back against Taehyungâs fingers. âDonât tease me,â Jungkook scolds rather than begs. âKeep going.â
Maybe itâs surprising to some, but Taehyung has never tried anal before. He never saw the point; pussy is right there, and none of the girls he has been with had ever asked for it. So he doesnât know shit about how wet Jungkook needs to be or if the warm water is enough to make it pleasurable for Jungkook when he pushes a finger inside.
âFuck,â Taehyung exhales sharply, pulling his finger out to ease it back in again. âItâs soââ
âWarm, tight.â
Taehyung nods because heâs afraid of what sound might come out if he attempts to speak. His body shudders as Jungkook instructs him to add a second finger. He closes his eyes and imagines how good that initial tightness would feel around his cock, the pop of his tip through the ring of muscles. And then to be enveloped in the soft warmth that comes next. Itâs different from what Taehyung has experienced before, but he thinks heâll like it, especially because Jungkook is already moaning in his ear and heâs only using his fingers.
Itâs just so fucking crazy, ending up here with Jungkook in his arms, his moist, warm breath mixing with the sweat beading down Taehyungâs neck. Taehyung hates sweating, but he canât imagine leaving the hot tub, wants to spend eternity letting the pads of his fingers prune and his lungs struggle to breathe. Itâs like the night on the dancefloor all over again, Taehyung hiding behind the shield of Jungkookâs body, chasing his heat to melt the insecurities that have formed a hard shell around him.
Not that Taehyung is smart enough to understand this about himself. Right now, heâs too focused on hesitantly crooking his fingers to feel Jungkookâs soft walls. Jungkook is nowhere near being delicate, but he feels like he is, at least here, in the part of himself Taehyung has never gotten to know. The longer Taehyung thinks about it, the more his fingers tremble.
âAre you okay, Tae?â Jungkook asks, leaning back to look at Taehyung. Jungkook sitting up forces Taehyungâs fingers out of him.
Shit, is Taehyung okay? Yeah, heâs totally fine. Itâs not like heâs experiencing an entirely unknown part of his sexuality right now. Itâs not like heâs doing exactly what he was afraid of doing, what his parents would despise him for, what he thinks he might have needed to do his whole lifeâor, at least for as long as he has known Jungkook. If this was anyone else, Taehyung isnât sure heâd be okay with whatâs happening. And honestly, he isnât interested in finding out.
For some reason, it feels like it was always Jungkook. He deserves good things, doesnât he? The real question is whether Taehyung is a good thing.
âIâm, uhââ
The beep of the pool gate blocks Taehyungâs words from tumbling out of him. They get locked in his throat, closed off while the gate clicks open and two voices carry over the still air. Taehyung isnât brave enough to turn around. Instead, he watches Jungkookâs face as the two voices get closer.
Thereâs this little mole right under Jungkookâs bottom lip, in the middle of his chin. People rarely notice it. But when they do, itâs something to gush over, a cute little secret for the most observant people to unearth. Not like Taehyung, whose little freckles and imperfections are clear as day. Even the small scar along Jungkookâs cheek has a certain charm to it. Itâs a reminder that there are things about Jungkook that Taehyung doesnât know. What nervous tick did Jungkook have before he got his lip piercing? Did he run his tongue along the inside of his cheek? Still trace the curve of his bottom lip? Whatever it was, Taehyung is sure it would have made his stomach drop just the same.
âI think theyâre coming over here,â Jungkook whispers, eyes still tracking the people walking through the recreation area.
If Jungkook was one of Taehyungâs groupies, he probably would have joked about putting on a show for whoever the guests are.
But Jungkook is Jungkook, and Taehyung is too afraid of making this real.
Taehyung drops his arms to his sides and squirms underneath Jungkook. âLetâs go back to our room,â he says. His words could sound like a proposition, but he says them in a breathy plea that makes Jungkook frown.
Even though Jungkook immediately gets up, theyâre too late. The other hotel guests reach the hot tub right as Taehyung steps out of the water.
The old coupleâs eyes ping-pong between Taehyung and Jungkookâs heated skin, reddened lips, and the blatant erections bulging their swim trunks.
âWeâre leaving.â Jungkook snatches their towels from the small table beside the hot tub, tossing one to Taehyung before wrapping the other around his waist. Taehyung nearly misses the catch and the bottom half of his towel dips into the water.
âFuck me,â Taehyung curses, not caring that the woman looks absolutely scandalized and his colorful language is probably making the situation worse.
It doesnât matter; Jungkook is already booking it out of there, walking funny because heâs trying to hide his crotch. The poor kid has it way worse than Taehyung, who is wearing compression shorts under his swim trunks. The struggle of having a big dick, Taehyung figures. Swimwear is too revealing, the thin material always clinging around the crotch. Compression shorts make his dick print less obvious, but they also make it more painful when he gets hard in them.
At least Taehyung can walk normally. For as confident as Jungkook was back in the hot tub, he curls inward once they cross the threshold into the hotel. He waddles down the hall toward the elevators, his wet flip-flops squeaking against the tile floor.
Taehyung follows close behind him, nearly slipping in the puddle Jungkook creates while he waits for the elevator.
âYou donât gotta press the button so many times,â Taehyung teases.
Jungkook jams his index finger into the UP button and narrows his eyes at Taehyung. âYouâre the one who wanted to get back to our room so bad.â
Itâs definitely a dig, though Taehyung doesnât understand why. He knows neither of them want some old people staring at them while Taehyung fingers Jungkook in the fucking hot tub. Holy shit.
âKoo,â Taehyung says with an exasperated sigh, âeveryone can see.â You, Taehyungâs brain adds internally, and he doesnât have time to wonder why heâs suddenly more worried about people ogling Jungkook in such a vulnerable position than himself.
Before understanding can click in his head, the elevator dings open and the last two people Taehyung wants to see step out.
âOh, Jungkookie! Tae! We were calling you, but you both left your phones in the room.â Jimin does a little dance in the threshold, a side-to-side step that prevents the elevator doors from closing on them. Based on the light pink flush of his cheeks, Taehyung knows Jimin decided to pregame with Seokjin before leaving for the party.
Seokjin prefers to nurse a drink throughout the night, so his sober eyes stare at Taehyung with frightening clarity.
âNot interested in the hot tub anymore?â Seokjin asks.
Taehyung shrugs while Jungkook shakes his head, his frizzy bangs swaying across his forehead.
âToo hot.â
âAnd crowded.â
Jimin babbles about how pointless pool rules are when guests eagerly break them. No one is listening to him, but he doesnât know that.
âWell,â Seokjin says, ushering Jimin out of the way and holding out his arm to stop the elevator doors, âanswer your phones next time we call you.âÂ
They donât answer their phones.
Fic Masterlist
A/N: taehyung, hiding his face: i think i like boys.
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