The hallways of the estate were eerily silent as Jungkook made his way back to his room — if it could even be called that. It was more of a gilded cage: high ceilings, silk sheets, no locks on the inside.
He walked barefoot, his robe fluttering slightly with each trembling step. The sting on his thigh still burned, and the echo of Taehyung’s lips lingered on his mouth.
A kiss that wasn’t punishment. A kiss that wasn’t command.
He touched his lips, almost reverently. His heart clenched.
> “What are you doing to me, Taehyung…”
Meanwhile — East Wing Lounge
The fire crackled in the hearth, casting golden light across Jimin’s smooth skin as he sat curled up on a leather armchair, drink in hand. The glass trembled slightly between his fingers.
> “He kissed him again,” he muttered.
Hoseok, lounging nearby with a lollipop between his teeth, raised a brow. “You spying again, Minnie?”
Jimin didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed on the flames.
Yoongi’s voice still echoed in his head.
> “I didn’t betray you.”
Liar.
He had trusted Yoongi with everything — his body, his secrets, his soul. But trust meant nothing when blood had been spilled in the name of silence. Jimin would never forget that night… the deal Yoongi made, the silence he bought, the consequences Jimin paid for.
> “He's breaking him,” Jimin said suddenly.
> “Taehyung?” Hoseok asked, twirling the stick of his candy.
> “Jungkook,” Jimin replied. “He’s not just hurt. He’s... hiding something. Something big.”
Flashback — Two Years Ago
It was pouring that night, too. The dorms were quiet, save for the laughter coming from Room 5B. Jimin was curled in Yoongi’s bed, half-naked, tangled in sheets and cigarette smoke.
> “You ever think it’ll end?” Jimin asked softly.
Yoongi hummed, fingers trailing lazily along Jimin’s spine. “Everything ends eventually.”
> “What about us?”
> “Not unless you want it to.”
Lies. Beautiful, cruel lies.
The next morning, Jimin woke up to an empty bed and a message burned into his phone screen:
> “Don’t look for me. It’s done.”
And just like that, Yoongi was gone. No reason. No goodbye. Just gone.
Back in Present — Jungkook’s Quarters
The moment the door closed behind him, Jungkook sank to the floor. The tears came slow at first, then harder, shaking his chest as sobs ripped through him.
He pressed his hands to his face, whispering over and over:
> “Why do you hate me… why do you still feel like home…”
His phone — hidden beneath a loose floorboard, unknown to Taehyung — buzzed.
UNKNOWN:
> They’re looking for the files. You have 3 days, Jeon. Don’t make me come there.
Jungkook’s breath caught.
No. Not now. Not while everything was falling apart.
He typed quickly:
> I told you I’m handling it. Stay out of sight.
He threw the phone across the room.
Secrets. Buried, but not dead.
And Taehyung? He had no idea the very boy he claimed to control was tangled in something far more dangerous than disobedience.
Later That Night – Taehyung’s Private Lounge
Yoongi sat with a drink in his hand, eyes sharp under low lighting. Taehyung lounged across from him, two buttons open, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass.
> “You still watching him bleed?” Yoongi asked, voice indifferent.
Taehyung didn’t look up. “He deserves it.”
> “No one deserves you,” Yoongi scoffed.
> “You’re one to talk,” Taehyung said coolly. “Didn’t you sell out your soulmate for a signed contract?”
Yoongi’s jaw ticked. “I did what I had to.”
> “And Jimin paid for it.”
Silence stretched thick between them. Neither man moved. Neither flinched.
> “You still love him?” Taehyung finally asked.
> “Always.”
> “Then you’re more pathetic than I thought.”
Yoongi leaned forward, eyes suddenly dark. “Says the man who keeps a leash on the only person he’s ever loved.”
Taehyung smiled slowly, menacingly. “At least I never lied to Jungkook.”
Yoongi’s voice turned sharp. “But you broke him.”
Midnight — Jungkook’s Dreams
He was back in the studio. Paint everywhere. The scent of turpentine and roses.
Taehyung leaned over him, shirt stained with color, lips tasting like strawberries and heat.
> “You’ll always be mine, you know that?”
> “Even if I run?”
> “I’ll find you.”
> “Even if I break?”
> “I’ll still love you.”
Jungkook reached for him, tears streaming, but everything dissolved into smoke.
Morning – Estate Garden
Sunlight filtered through stained glass, casting broken rainbows across Jungkook’s pale skin as he sat beneath a stone arch, sketching silently. His fingers trembled slightly, and not from cold.
He heard the steps before he saw him.
Taehyung stood tall, hands in pockets, watching him like one might watch a caged animal they didn’t know how to love — or release.
> “You skipped morning call,” Taehyung said.
> “I didn’t feel well,” Jungkook replied, voice distant.
Taehyung walked closer. “I didn’t ask if you felt well.”
Jungkook’s jaw clenched. “And I didn’t ask for your permission.”
The slap came fast. Not hard. But enough to sting.
Enough to remind him who he was.
Taehyung leaned down, lips grazing Jungkook’s ear. “Defy me again, and I’ll remind you what punishment really tastes like.”
Jungkook stared ahead, blinking away tears.
> “Go ahead,” he whispered. “Maybe pain’s the only way you know how to touch me anymore.”
Taehyung froze.
And in that frozen silence, he saw something he hadn't in years:
Fear.
Not in Jungkook.
But in himself.
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