𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱

ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡ ⓣⓦⓔⓝⓣⓨⓢⓘⓧ

He pulled Jungkook’s limp body up against the wall, lifting him up by his ass. Jungkook tried his best to put his legs around Taehyung’s hips, yet they were unresponsive. He softly moaned as Taehyung inserted himself inside of him, thrusting so slowly it brought him to the brink of insanity. Taehyung licked the tears off of Jungkook’s face and kissed his jaw tenderly.

“I would make love to you every hour of the day if I could,” he whispered in his ear, quickening his rhythm.

Jungkook smiled softly.

“Make love,” he mumbled, happy.

Making love, to him, held such a different meaning than just fucking. The last week they had spent together had made them inseparable, two minds thinking as one, too bodies acting as one. It had been crazy and emotional; but that was nothing far from normal to them. They had opened up to each other, they had confessed to one another. Jungkook cried once more, this time because he was so incredibly happy.

Taehyung came inside of Jungkook, crying out his name as his nails dug in his ass. He fell to his knees, his legs giving out at the second powerful orgasm, and rested his forehead against Jungkook’s. They both stayed like that for a while, breathing heavily, eyes closed. Taehyung did not want to break off of him, their sweaty bodies stuck to each other reminding him the night that had changed everything for him, a week earlier. He remembered how that was the first time he had made the distinction between fucking and making love. That night, he had made love to Jungkook.

Taehyung left a soft kiss on Jungkook’s sweat and blood stained lips, pulling himself out. He got up clumsily, legs still weak, and turned on the shower. He then went back to Jungkook, pulling him up and making him sit down on the shower floor.

“Can you wash?” he asked, pushing his hair out of his face.

Jungkook nodded, breathing slowly, eyes closed. Taehyung laughed, knowing that he was totally beat. He took care of washing both himself and Jungkook, making sure there was not one spot of blood left behind.

He carried Jungkook back to their room, water dripping from his body. He made him lie down in their bed and tucked him in, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead. Jungkook mumbled something and turned around as he tugged as the bed sheets, settling himself on his stomach. Taehyung smiled and grabbed a shirt and sweatpants on the way out.

He took the trash bags as he left the apartment, keys and wallet now in his pockets. He threw the bags in the back of his car and drove to his usual spot, where he dumped the bodies he mutilated. He exhaled loudly as he went back in his car and drove off, to nowhere in particular.

He thought back to the week that had so quickly passed by. On a drunken night, he had told Jungkook everything. Everything about his past, about his mother and what had happened with her. He had told him everything in detail; about how his father had killed himself and his mother had turned against him, blaming him for his death and turning to drugs and alcohol to ease her pain. He told him how she’d beat and mutilate him, how she would yell that she would hope he would just die or disappear. And he had. The day of his 18th birthday. He had taken every single expensive thing he could find in his luxurious house, including his mother’s jewelry collection, stole her car and left. She had not even bothered signaling a stolen car to the police. He had sold everything and got a small fortune out of it. That’s how he had survived these years living alone without working. He guessed she probably killed herself too, shortly after his departure. Even though he knew she hated him, he knew he was the only reason she kept herself alive. As much as she did despise him, she still provided him with food, shelter and clothing. Maybe that was how she showed the little love she still felt for him, as a mother.