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Taehyung held his forearm and pointed at the bags. "I went get you supper.." Taehyung then raised the bags and walked into the kitchen to place the bags on the table. "I recall you leaving almost three hours ago Taehyung." Yoongi clicked his tongue as he downed the can of alcohol. The stench was also lingering so that didn't help the situation either.

Taehyung frowned as he saw the bottle almost empty. Drinking, again. "I was watching the street dancers and then I had to wait for the food to be finished.." he lied but only because Taehyung was not allowed to talk to other guys. Then again Taehyung was rarely ever allowed to talk to anyone. Reasoning for why he doesn't have any friends.

Yoongi got off the counter, placing the empty can aside as he walked up to Taehyung and pulled him close. His hands rested on Taehyung's ass. Groping Taehyung as he then hummed from Taehyung's response. Not fully convinced he was telling the truth but whatever, he'd go with it.

Smack.

Taehyung gasped but that quickly turned into a whine that he muffled, feeling the stinging pain on his ass as he gripped onto Yoongi's shoulders. That was quite harsh. "Don't be late next time, got it?" Yoongi looked at Taehyung sternly. The boy only nodded as he then gave Yoongi a peck on the lips. Forcing a smile but that was quick to fade.

Yoongi pushed Taehyung away, turning to the bags and grabbing them. "Namjoon and I will be in the studio for a few hours." Hearing that made Taehyung pout, grabbing onto Yoongi. Of course he would be with Namjoon. When was Yoongi not with Namjoon in the studio? "But, you went to the studio just last night.. and the other night.... and other other night." Taehyung mentioned through yet another mumble.

"Jesus Taehyung, you're so needy. Look, i'll be back later, now let." He pulled his arm away harshly. "Go." He scoffed as he held his food in his hand. Grabbing his sweater from the rack as he walked out, the door slightly slamming. Taehyung only looked at the floor then at his feet while he hugged himself. He then looked down at his vibrating phone and answered it after staring at it for a bit.

"Seokjin hyung?" The soft yet cracking voice answered. Seokjin blabbered about his day before he heard the sniffs. "Tae- what the fuck did Yoon fuck up do this time?" Seokjin spoke through the phone. The annoyance in his voice already getting through to Taehyung.

Taehyung managed to chuckle. "N-Nothing.. i'm just overreacting.. everything is fine hyung.." he sniffed once more. Like Seokjin would believe that. "Taehyung, baby. Tell me what Yoongi did." Seokjin said sternly and didn't give up the topic. Although Taehyung was trying to contain the hurt in his voice but... it just sucked. Sucked that his husband was always gone.

Taehyung wiped his tears. "Nothing really.. I just.. I miss him.. he's always gone. Even when he's in the apartment I miss him because he's not the man I married two years ago.."Hearing that made Seokjin sigh. "Taehyung.. you and Yoongi have been together for.. how many years?" Seokjin blinked several times as he tried to add up the years on his fingers but failed miserably to do so because Taehyung has been with Yoongi for quite a long time already.

"Nine.." Taehyung spoke which surprised him too. Honestly it took him a moment to respond to add up the years. They were together for seven years and married for two. God time flew by. "Nine.. right." Seokjin sounded shocked. Nine?!? already?!? "It's fine for that to happen. He's just now really busy with his work right? Maybe things are getting boring.. in the room?" He suggested.

Taehyung hummed, a bit hurt by that but he did get what Seokjin was getting at. "Do you think he's falling out of love with me?" Taehyung suggested. "I don't know. It's a possibility. Just, try spice things up. You know.." Jin coughed. "Spice the sex up. Do things you guys haven't done before. Go on dates and such. I'm sure everything will be fine for you two soon enough, mkay?" Seokjin assured Taehyung who tried to be convinced but part of him knew the romance died some time ago.

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