Everything felt numb; the sound of the door closing and the feel of Jungkook’s presence nearing him were a blur to Taehyung’s senses. He didn’t dare to raise his head.

Jungkook came to a slow stop in front of him. He studied the sunken expression of his lowered face and the redness of his nose, as if he had been crying.

He couldn’t take it any longer. He couldn’t fight with his feelings any longer. He missed him. He missed him so much it finally drove him insane, and there he was, after ditching his work, ready to beg for his touch. For him. Nothing else mattered at that moment than to feel him close.

A thin layer of wetness blanked out his eyes as they traced over the ruefulness that was deep-rooted in Taehyung’s once vivid features. “Tae. I don’t care about anything right now.” He strove to keep his voice steady, but it disobeyed him; it shook and came out as fragile as a butterfly’s wings. “I only want to hold you like before. Like when everything was okay between us. Can you let me please?”

A path of tears trickled down each one of Taehyung’s cheeks, though they shone over forcibly contracted muscles. He cleared his throat, knowing his voice would break and sound gravelly if he spoke right away. “I think it’s better to... talk first. Because you’ll regret asking me this when I tell you—” His words silenced when he noticed him bridging the short distance between them with a single hasty stride.

A mire of ravaging anxiety smoldered in Jungkook’s gut upon hearing his remark that led him to efface the gap between them and ring his waist with his arms. Taehyung was about to tell him everything. He could see it in his contrite expression. He could feel it in the ripples of sorrow Taehyung’s existence radiated. And he wasn’t fucking ready.

“Don’t tell me anything, okay?” he released tremulously, the wetness in his eyes now a breath away from cartwheeling. “At least not for a little more. Let me hold you first.” Without waiting for a response, he clutched him to his body and nestled his chin against his shoulder.

“Fuck, I missed you. Really.” Jungkook drew in his intoxicating scent, feeling his senses spin with it. “You’re in my mind every fucking minute, Tae. It’s like a constant heaviness to my chest that doesn’t let me breathe properly.” He pulled back, keeping the lower part of their bodies fused together, and rubbed the said chest with force to mollify that heaviness, but it didn’t relent even a little. Then, he curled his arm around him again, clasping him hard, as if scared to let him go.

Taehyung’s tears turned into a fast-flowing outpour the moment Jungkook held him so desperately. He maintained still and stiff, with his hands grasping his own sweater at the sides where they hung so he wouldn’t surrender under his longing to wrap them around him. “You’ll hate me so much, Jungkook,” he drawled, voice already hoarse and broken, just like his heart.

“Can you pretend? Just for a little more, hmm?” Jungkook whispered as he placed his knuckles underneath his chin and lifted his head after a moment’s struggle, since Taehyung resisted at first. Although he still didn’t meet his eyes, Jungkook could see the harrowing remorse in them and the lurking flood of tears. He smoothed his hair back and cradled his wet cheek. “Can you pretend for a little more for me... like you did this whole time? Hmm? Please.”

A gut-wrenching horror struck Taehyung right in the center of his chest at his words, paralyzing each one of his senses and locking his muscles. That horror emptied him, lacerated his heart, and demolished the floodgates of his tears, leaving them to rush down his shock-stricken face. The silence grew impossibly suffocating, and time didn’t seem to flow anymore.

Taehyung’s wooly eyes crept upwards to lock with his. And he realized. He realized as he gazed at the whirl of pained emotions in his eyes. He realized at the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He realized at the strained scurry of his breathing.

Jungkook knew everything.

Taehyung’s breath suddenly hiked up and got tangled between the sobs he strove to subdue. “Y-You—You... You k-know.” He gasped and wailed, shaking uncontrollably, as he clawed at Jungkook’s sweater. His knees buckled under the gut-twisting realization, and his body wilted.

Two strong arms held him in place and firmed up their grip around his waist. “I know,” Jungkook breathed out. It was the least agonizing to have this man bawling his eyes out in his embrace. It pricked his heart so much he wished he didn’t have one. “I want to pretend that I don’t. Can you pretend with me? Just for a few minutes, hmm?” He swiped his hand over his cheek to collect his tears and repeated the action to his other cheek. “Don’t cry, hyung.”

“I’m so f-fucking s-sorry.” Taehyung was barely able to push the words out as his continuous sobs stole all his breath. He wiped his face too with his sleeve, but his cheeks became drenched again in just a few seconds. “I’m so sorry. I’m so—Fuck,” he choked out as he hid his face with his forearm, releasing another series of wails. “I’m sorry, K-Kookie. I’m sorry,” he chanted between his agonized cries, the words sounding muffled as he sobbed them into his forearm.

The flow of Jungkook’s tears mounted the more he held his trembling form and heard his heartbreaking sounds. He tugged his hand away to reveal his face, but Taehyung didn’t let him. He used more force and yanked it out of the way. He gripped his cheeks in two firm palms. Absolute devastation was engraved on every inch of Taehyung’s face alongside the ruefulness, and he gazed at it long and intently through his tear-flooded eyes.

With a quick, jerky motion, he erased the gap between their faces and slammed their lips together. Both remained unmoving, with their mouths connected firmly and more tears coursing down their cheeks. Then, Jungkook moved his lips, tasting the mix of their salty tears. Their shoulders shook more and more as suppressed whimpers escaped Jungkook, and stifled gasps emitted from Taehyung.

“I hate you,” Jungkook muttered against his mouth and claimed it again in another battle, fiercer, deeper, their lips slotting together with bruising pressure.

Taehyung squeezed his closed eyes harder, but kissed him with equal intensity. The grasp on his sweater was tight enough to make his fingers hurt, and he used it to pull him closer and closer, sliding his lips against his desperately.

“I fucking hate you so much, Taehyung,” Jungkook sobbed, the words mushed against his lips, and dove for another kiss, even rougher around the edges this time.

The volume of Taehyung’s wails increased and his mouth lost its strength as it parted to cry out his poignant sounds. He tried to keep kissing him — it was what he wanted to do for so long, even though he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve anything from him — but he had absolutely no power to tame his sobbing.

Jungkook cried silently as he leaned their foreheads together. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t see him in that wretched state again. His heart ached immensely at the onslaught of his betrayal and the suffering it brought, but seeing him like this, feeling his convulsive body against him, hearing his grievous sobs, pained him just as much. It made no sense. It made no fucking sense in any way. But it pained him just as much. Maybe even a little more.

“Kim Taehyung,” he rasped — the name was like a shot of pure and simple pain that singed his throat and ground through his chest, leaving it exposed, bleeding, and shaking. He instantly felt Taehyung’s body sag against him as if he couldn’t keep himself on his feet anymore, and he fastened an arm around him, clutching him against his body.

As Taehyung continued to writhe in his embrace, Jungkook harshly wiped his tears and then dabbed his sleeves at Taehyung’s cheeks, much more gently. “You can pretend for a little more, Taehyung.” He patted his closed eyes next, forcing himself to look at him. “You did it for so long. You did it so well.” He caressed his hair back and held his cheek. “Kiss me again,” he whispered and shushed him softly when his cries grew louder again.

“Your mouth tastes so sweet. Even after all the lies... it tastes so sweet. It’s weird. Your eyes always promised me things, even if your mouth deceived me. Your touch always soothed me, even if your lies killed me. I want that mouth on my own again.” His breathing came harsher with a rising effusion of tears.

“I want to know why it tastes so sweet even after all the fucking lies it told me.” The last words spewed from his lungs roughly, but any trace of cruelty died out of his face as poignancy washed over it and spilled from his eyes in a turbulent gush. “What have you done to me?” Jungkook asked in a voice filled with devastation and sobbed his heart out. His body writhed, succumbing to the onrush of wails akin to Taehyung’s. “I-I hate you, I h-hate you, I—Fuck, I fucking hate you for making it impossible for me to forget you, Kim Taehyung.”

Jungkook scrubbed his face with his sleeves and plunged one more time.

There was no lust or tenderness in the way he kissed him. No adoration, no excitation, nothing. Just pure, heart-wrenching desperation. That desperation was coiled around his need to take as much as he could. To assimilate that heady, sweet taste of him and carve the feel of his mouth against his in his blackened heart, hoping he would never forget it.

And Taehyung gave him what he wanted. He gave him everything with the same desperation, crying and shuddering and hurting, wishing he could take Jungkook’s pain away but sobbing harder since he knew he couldn’t. Hating himself like never before.

The kiss ended sooner than Jungkook wanted, as he was the one who lost all of his strength this time. The amounts of heartbreak were so ravaging they numbed his body and caused it to give out. Jungkook’s grip around him weakened and the hand cupping his cheek hung to his side.

Jungkook stepped back at a glacial pace, his bloodshot eyes staring hazily at the iron-like grasp of Taehyung’s hands on the neck of his sweater. His fingers enclosed Taehyung’s wrists. And he pulled them away from him. Jungkook kept them in the air between them for a moment and pushed them down, releasing them. “I’ll give you a minute to calm down,” he said, voice croaky and barely audible. “Then, I want to hear the truth from your mouth. For once.”

The assault of Taehyung’s tears didn’t cease even when Jungkook slouched away. He heard a door close soon, and fuck, the torrent of tears only cascaded faster. He dragged his feet towards the kitchen, each step ponderous with unbearable sorrow. His moves were listless as he splashed some water on his face. Another spurt of sobbing had him keeling over the sink, clawing at the edge so he wouldn’t crumble to the floor.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t think about anything else than how much he fucked up. How sorry he was for making Jungkook go through such agony. The guilt ate his soul.

With an anguished, gulped breath, Taehyung slumped down. The water still gushed behind him, but the sound got muffled in his labored cries. He drew his knees close to his chest and girdled them with his arms. His head collapsed over them, his shoulders quivering endlessly.

Jungkook had forced his tears to stop when he walked out of the bathroom. He spotted the running water in the kitchen and scoped the living room in search of Taehyung. He failed to locate him and trod to the kitchen. The moment he passed the table, the sight of a trembling, whimpering, curled-up Taehyung froze him in his tracks. It threatened to make his tears fall again. And they did as he ordered his legs to move closer.

Jungkook turned off the faucet, gazing down at him, and brushed the hot wetness from his cheeks. He crouched beside Taehyung. “Is this another act?” He believed it wasn’t. But it made him wonder, really, why he was still crying so hard. He knew nothing at that moment. Only that Taehyung worked for Jin Mo and approached him with a purpose — a mission. Could Jungkook be just another one of his missions?

The only response he received was Taehyung’s gasping breaths. Jungkook wiped the fresh trails of tears on his cheeks and fastened his arm around him. “Don’t sit on the floor. Come on.” He heaved Taehyung to his feet, but his brows creased as Taehyung thrust his hand down.

“Don’t t-touch me,” he croaked out, trying his best to constrain his wail. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve a-anything,” he said, trudging away. His drawn-out weeping effectuated a dizziness in his head that rendered his body feeble and made him brace himself on the table when he passed it.

“You let me kiss you.”

Jungkook’s voice sounded close, and just seconds later, a secure arm circled his waist. “I didn’t deserve that either.” Taehyung's frail attempts to detach his arm from his body were useless.

Jungkook didn’t cave this time. He led him to the living room and helped him sit on the couch before he sank down next to him.

Taehyung brought his limps closer and held them tightly again. Tears still stained his cheeks, but he at least was able to confine his sobs.

“I’m waiting.”

Taehyung didn’t react to his suddenly cold but still quiet voice. He was about to be real with him for the first time since he met him. It felt as liberating as it felt harrowing. “I’m Kim Taehyung.” He paused, as if to gather any ounce of strength he had left. “My father’s name was Kim Ji Sun. He was the boss of the Odum gang. My mother was Kim Maria. She was a businesswoman with crazy connections in every field. I lived happily until I was eight years old.

“One night, two men broke into our house. I don’t remember exactly what happened. I remember Chul Soo putting his gun in my mouth while yelling at me to shut up. I guess I was screaming a lot. I heard a gunshot, then two more. Then my mother came out of her room and shot Chul Soo. She screamed at us to run. Jae Wook, my hyung, pulled me towards the door. But I held onto the wall. I didn’t want to leave them. Then I saw my mother fall down with two bullet holes in her head. My father was already lying dead on the floor. The next thing I remember is my hyung yanking me with him. And we run. And run. And run.”

Taehyung took a stuttering breath, and only when he fell silent he perceived tears had started again. He fought the chaos of memories, telling himself it was okay, that he would be okay. He was finally able to share this with Jungkook. To share everything with him.

Jungkook felt poignancy gouge holes in his chest all over again as he listened to his wrecked voice. He lifted his hand. It lingered in the air close to his shoulder. God, he wanted to comfort him. It was ridiculous, he thought.

“Don’t,” Taehyung said in a hoarse whisper when he registered the hand that lingered near him. “I’ll break down if you touch me. I’m barely able to hold myself together to tell you everything.”

Jungkook folded his fingers in a tight fist and let his hand drop.

“We hid somewhere, an abandoned building, I think. We walked to Seoul. We lived in the streets for a year. Then we found Hwimang shelter. They took us in. When I turned twenty years old, someone came to talk to me. He offered me a job. He wanted me to be a part of Selene. I had never heard of that before, and I got curious. I agreed to hear him out.

“When he put me in the car, he drugged me. I woke up chained to a column. It was Jin Mo’s first mission for me. He wanted me to escape, which I did. The money he talked about was crazy. I needed it. But I also needed answers. I told him I’d only accept his deal if he helped me find out who killed my parents. And I’ve been working for him as a seducer for the last seven years.”

Taehyung’s teary eyes fleetingly passed over the mute presence beside him, catching him wiping his cheeks roughly. He hung his head and bit his lower lip to keep himself from breaking down. “About two months ago, he gave me a mission. To get close to detective Jeon Jungkook, get access to the station, and delete every trace of me and Jay. But the next day, I ran into you. I couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t supposed to meet you this way. I wasn’t supposed to have sex with you. I tried to leave. I really... I tried.”

Another pause, another silent wave of tears. When Taehyung collected himself enough to continue, Jungkook’s gruff voice seeped into his ears.

“Do you regret it?”

Taehyung thought only his touch would make him break down, but his voice was enough. He hid his face with his forearm and cried his jerky sobs into it, his heartbreak-filled chest churning against his thighs.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” Jungkook spat through his clenched jaw as tears gushed out of his eyes at the sound of his whimpers. He tugged on his sleeves, covering his palms, and set them on each of his cheeks, wanting to quickly compose himself. “Do you regret it?”

“Yes,” he said, the syllable tangled between his gasping sounds. He sniffed and drew in a row of slow breaths, striving to alleviate his sobbing. “If—if I hadn’t slept w-with you, maybe you—you wouldn’t be hurting so much b-because of me. I fucked up everything. You, me. And—and I don’t give a shit about me. But y-you... You... You don’t deserve this. If I hadn’t slept with you, y-you would just h-hate me, curse me, and throw me away like I meant nothing. That’s what I deserve. But... you’re c-crying because of me. You’re hurting. I-I’m so sorry.”

“But maybe,” Jungkook started, leaning his head against the back of the couch, “it would hurt just as much. Maybe I would like you just as much, even if we hadn’t slept together that night. Wasn’t this what you were planning to do? Seduce me? It’s your thing, right?”

Taehyung patted his eyes with his sleeves, compelling himself not to break down again. “You’re a detective. I couldn’t do that with you. I wasn’t allowed to. Jin Mo either kills the targets I meet, attacks their hideouts, or lets them be if they’re not a threat to him. If a target becomes obsessed with me or searches for me after I finish my mission, Jin Mo kills them. Usually they search for me because I hurt their feelings. He didn’t want that to happen with you. That’s why he told me to avoid seducing you. Killing a detective isn’t beneficial to him in any way, so he doesn’t bother dealing with the police. You weren’t supposed to have feelings. You were supposed to just leave me alone after my mission. But I screwed everything up.”

A sudden harshness swept across Jungkook’s face, with overwhelming agony underlying it. “Killing a detective isn’t beneficial to him? Then why the fuck did he kill my hyung, huh?” His voice erupted from him in a turbulent scream.

Taehyung took a few moments to calm himself more, but a ferocious hand grasped his shoulder and yanked him back, untucking his head. The mix of poignancy and fury that blazed in Jungkook’s eyes wrung his heart. Tears fell with no movement and with no sound this time. “Jin Mo didn’t kill your hyung, Jungkook.”

Jungkook stared at his wrecked face, his scowl unfaltering. “What the fuck are you saying?”

Taehyung swallowed dryly. “He wasn’t the one who killed your hyung. I asked him. He doesn’t have a reason to lie to me. He hasn’t left his hideout in the last six years. He had no idea about the recording file you found in his side hideout. That chuckle in the recording wasn’t Jin Mo’s.”

“That can’t be true,” Jungkook spluttered at once, shaking his head furiously. “He has to—he has to be the one.”

“He’s not. You’re just scared to accept it because then you won’t have someone to go after. The closure you seek will slip through your grasp. And you’ll go back to zero. But if you really want to find the one who killed Kang Ho, the first step is to accept that Jin Mo isn’t the one who killed him.”

Jungkook’s grip loosened until his hand collapsed to his side. A blinding haziness cloaked his gaze as he reclined at a creep. “I can’t believe... I spent the last three years searching for him in vain. What the hell do I do now?” His chest fluctuated rapidly with shallow breaths as the wetness in his eyes bubbled over, spilling down his cheeks. “Kang Ho hyung,” he sobbed as he craned forward, propping his elbows on his thighs and burying his face in his hands. He chanted his hyung’s name in a weeping murmur between his torturous breaths, like he had cried that night.

Taehyung could only cry with him, keeping his eyes closed. He thought he didn’t have more tears to shed, but seeing him in this state unleashed the floodgates of a new despondency, as heart-wrenching as the one his lies created. He gripped the drape of the couch to restrain his hands from nearing him. They shook with their desperate urge to caress his back, hold him, wipe his tears, but he didn’t have any right to touch him. He didn’t have any right to comfort him.

“Hyung... Hyung, what—what do I do?” Jungkook choked out, unconsciously rocking his body to soothe himself. “Hyung... Taehyung hyung.”

Taehyung’s eyes split open at the impression that he had called out for him. His words were too muffled to be understood. For a while, only Jungkook’s whimpers echoed in the room, slashing through his heart. But then, he thought he heard it again. The call of his name wrapped around Jungkook’s shattered voice.

“Taehyung h-hyung.”

He espied Jungkook’s hand crawling closer to him, and he clasped it at once. “Kookie,” he rasped as he destroyed the distance between them and cocooned him in his embrace. He gently guided him to lean back and pulled his head against his shoulder.

Jungkook clutched onto him, his arms enveloping his waist strongly, and drew his legs close, letting them rest sideways on the couch. And he sobbed. Both did. Hard.

Taehyung’s strokes on his head and back didn’t cease in the slightest; he truly endeavored to confine his sobbing because Jungkook needed him. He needed every shred of his concentration and every ounce of comfort he had to offer.

Jungkook felt as if his world got razed to the ground for the second time with the new revelation. He was back to zero, as Taehyung said, and his damaged heart couldn’t endure it. It flailed with sobs, like the ones his mouth unleashed in Taehyung’s neck.

As he rocked with anguished sounds against Taehyung, his agony rose to a level he never thought that existed. Because what he craved, needed, was to stay in Taehyung’s embrace all night long and have his hands caressing soothing patterns on his body and have his mouth drawing sweet kisses anywhere they wanted and sleep and wake up curled into his arms.

But he couldn’t. The onslaught of his betrayal cut through his chest savagely and without end, reminding him he had to hate him for the lies he said, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do at that moment.

He needed his touch as much as he loathed it. He longed for another kiss from him as much as his stomach twisted at the thought. He ached for his warmth and comfort as much as they made him sick.

The tears dried on Jungkook’s cheeks, his sounds quieted, and his body stilled without realizing it at first. He withdrew from the homely and agonizing at the same time hug and leaned his back against the couch. “What do I do now?”

Taehyung, with eyes still brimmed with tears, sat cross-legged, facing him. “You get back to your feet. You fight. You start from the beginning. You go over the evidence—”

“With you, Taehyung,” he cut him off, a trace of desperation slipping through the apathy of his voice. “What do I do with you now?”

“You hate me. You yell at me. And you erase me from your life. Never see me again. Like I never existed.”

“I should, right? That’s what I should do.”

“Yes.” Taehyung gulped, forcing down a tide of anguish that brought along countless tears. “That’s what you should do.”

“Okay then.” He sat immobile for a short while as he closed his burning eyes. A stinging heaviness danced around his forehead after the extended deluge of tears that made it throb. He heaved himself to his feet and stilled again. “You won’t stop me if I leave?”

“I hate myself too much to stop you. I deserve this pain. I’ll let it destroy me, like I deserve.”

Jungkook’s fingers dug into his palms ruthlessly as he concealed the despair on his face behind a cruel harshness. “Why aren’t you begging me not to leave, Taehyung? Are you afraid of making a fool of yourself? You made a fool of me for so fucking long. Are you scared to let the same thing happen to you? Are you too selfish to let your pride crumble?”

“No!” he cried out and flew into another spate of tears as his face wrung with pained fury. “You think I didn’t make a fool of myself this whole time? I was lying to myself like I was lying to you! I was deluding myself like I was deluding you! I was telling myself I don’t like you. I ignored everything I felt for you. Until I couldn’t anymore. And when I realized I like you in a way I shouldn’t, in a way you’ll never like me, I was feeding myself more lies. That it’s better to throw you away before you throw me away. That it’s better if I make you hate me before you find out the truth. That you will be okay because you don’t like me like I do. But then you kissed me.

“And when I realized you liked me too, I wanted to run away from you even more. I couldn’t look at you anymore because of my guilt. I decided then to face the consequences of my actions. I decided to let you go before I hurt you more. I would be selfish if I begged you to stay, Kook, not if I didn’t beg. What right do I have to beg you? Even if that’s all I can think about right now. Even if that’s all I want to do right now. I can’t even ask for your forgiveness. I don’t even have that right.”

A buzzing quietness settled in the room as Jungkook regarded him cry silently. The tautness of his jaw mellowed and the ferocity of his eyes cracked with rays of twisting dejection.

He swallowed, feeling the conflicting emotions roil inside him brutally. “What you’re doing... It feels like you’re just giving up on me. Without trying. Without trying to make me understand. Without telling me that not everything was an act. That you weren’t pretending with me. You weren’t pretending to laugh and smile with me. You weren’t pretending to enjoy my company, my touch, my hugs. You’re giving up on me without trying to convince me I wasn’t just a target to you!” His voice rose to a growl as hard lines etched all around his face. “Was I? Just a target? Was I just another one of your missions?”

Taehyung frantically shook his head as his face stretched into a crying expression. When he attempted to talk, deny the accusations, tell him he truly wasn’t just a target to him, only throaty sobs leaked out of his mouth.

Jungkook turned his back to him. He looked heavenwards, striving to fend off his tears from escaping again. He wasn’t supposed to cry at that moment. He was supposed to bawl at him, be cruel and aggressive, be seething mad at how he played him. Not wanting to cradle him and plead him to stop crying because it made him cry too.

“Even if I wasn't just a target to you... Even if you regret everything, even if it hurts more than I thought... I don’t feel like I can forgive you. So maybe it’s better that you’re not trying. It’s better that you gave up on me like that. Maybe I’ll be able to give up on you this way too.” He inhaled a trembling, slow breath, trying with all his heart to block Taehyung’s sobs from his ears. “Because you really don’t deserve my forgiveness, Kim Taehyung.”

Taehyung remained in torture as the insupportable pain rocked inside him more fiercely and poured out of his soul like blood from a wide open injury.

His blurry eyes took in the sight of Jungkook walking towards the door, and his feeble, shaking body leaped, chasing after him. Plangent cries thrust out of his lungs as he flew his arms around his form and latched onto his back, pressing the side of his face against his nape.

“I-I deserve it,” he choked out. “You—you should give up on m-me, but please don’t. Please, Kookie. I beg you. I didn’t give up on you. I won’t. No matter how much you hate me. No—no matter how much time it’ll take you to process this. I swear to my life and everything I love that you weren’t just a target to me. I know you can’t believe me right now.” His grip around him tightened even more when he perceived Jungkook’s body trembling lightly.

“You have no idea how badly I wanted to be real with you, Kookie. I truly wished to be able to be real with you the night you broke off our deal. I didn’t try to change your mind because of my mission. It was because I couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing you. I was already in too deep at that point.” Taehyung paused to draw in a chain of calming breaths, though tears still managed to escape his eyes.

Jungkook had his eyes squeezed shut and his fists balled to his sides in his exertion to restrict himself from twisting around and smashing him into his arms. He was supposed to hate him. He was supposed to feel disgusted by his cruel deception. And it was simply preposterous that all he wanted was to whisper appeasing words in his ear to gentle his crying and tell him he believed him.

“You can hate me,” Taehyung uttered hoarsely. “You should. But don’t give up on me. I know I don’t have the right to ask you this. I’ll do everything for your forgiveness, Kookie. Please tell me what you want and I’ll do it. Should I beg you? Should I stop you if you try to leave? Should I chase after you? Do you want to yell at me? Should I let you go and give you time? Should I... give up on you? Anything you want. I’ll do it. Except for the last one.”

The heavy wretchedness of the situation suffused Jungkook’s form profoundly as his weary eyes split open. “You should...“ he drawled, “give me time. I need time to hate you. I have to hate you.”

“Anything you want.” Taehyung closed his eyes and squeezed him, trying to embed the feel of their last hug in his heart. He blotted out everything and focused solely on the feel of his body, his warmth, the sound of his heartbeat, simply him.

“I’ll wait for you. Always. With just a call, I’ll be outside of your house in minutes. If you appear outside of my apartment, I’ll run to you. Jungkook, I...” The words got caught in his throat. He pushed them down with a gulp, but they kept striving to climb up again. “I promise I’ll wait for you. If I disappear without a trace, it won’t be by my choice. But don’t come looking for me. I have to keep you safe. So if something happens to me, know that I’m really in—”

“What is this bullshit?” Jungkook spat out as abrupt rage brimmed his chest. He spun to face him, causing his grasp around him to wither and eventually break. “Why would you disappear? Why would something happen to you?”

Know that I’m really in love with you, Kookie. The unspoken statement repeated in his head, desperate to be verbalized. “Let me finish. If anything happens, you should know—”

“Stop, for fuck’s sake!” he roared as he grasped his biceps. “Are you in danger? Tell me.”

Dismay bore down on his shoulders, making them droop. “No. But if Jin Mo finds out I told you who I am, he can even kill me. And I don’t care if I die. But if I do, I need you to know—”

“If you die,” Jungkook cut in again, “I’ll never forgive you. You’ll die with me hating you. Is this what you want? Do you want me to live with all this hatred for the rest of my life?”

“No,” Taehyung whimpered, fresh tears cascading down his wrung face again. “I don’t want that. And I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die now that I found you.”

Jungkook’s hands lost their strength, as every scrap of fury vanished, and fell to his sides. “Then fight for it. For me. Until I can see the Taehyung I met that night in your eyes again, don’t give up on me. Can you do that for me? I really want to see that Taehyung again. But right now, I can only see Kim Taehyung and all the lies he told me.”

Taehyung brushed his cheeks with his sleeves as he nodded. “I can do anything for you.”

Jungkook gazed at the unending tears that dripped down his face despite his efforts to wipe them. He closed the space between them and combed his hair with his fingers, then held the strands at the back of his head.

“I wish I could hate you more, but I can’t. So I have to leave. Because the more I look at you, the more I want to kiss you. And if I do, I won’t stop.” Jungkook brought his mouth to his forehead and drew a gentle kiss there. “You should feel guilty. You should feel sorry. But fuck, stop crying,” he whispered against his skin and planted another kiss between Taehyung’s brows, where hard creases of sorrow were engraved. “You can’t cry your way out of this.”

“I just can’t stop,” Taehyung mumbled and erupted in another round of cries, though he forcibly fenced them in. “It hurts too much.”

“It hurts me just as much. Because I really trusted you at some point. I relied on you. And if I can stop crying about it at least for a moment, you can too.” Jungkook withdrew completely and reached for the door, still gazing at him. “Don’t forget the promises you made today.”

“Never,” Taehyung stated, and pressed his lips together, subduing his gulping breaths. He stared right into him through his blurred vision.

It was a little while later when Jungkook ended eye contact and slid the door open. Then, he slowly shut it behind him, leaving Taehyung keeling over by the penetrating devastation of his absence and crying in earnest, unable to tame his convoluted feelings.

───⭒───༺🌑༻───⭒───

I can say this is my favorite chapter with angst I've ever written. I hope you enjoyed it just as much and that you could feel the intensity and heartache that taekook experienced💜