TAEHYUNG'S heart swells up in fear that he'd accidentally gotten this painfully, dangerously, unforgivably wrong. Because Jeongguk's hands shake as they restrain his wrist, and all that's left is for Taehyung to try to fill in the blanks with the little information he has.

"What happened, Ggukie? Is that not okay? What can't you do?" Taehyung's all questions as the younger boy slams his legs together and almost cowers away, ashamed of himself through and through. "Tell me, baby— it's okay, use your words."

"N-No I... Not that. I can't do... that. N-Not me— I need to— I need you to..." He stammers like an idiot, mind only sure of one thing: he will never be comfortable enough with himself to succumb to this again. Not ever. "Sorry," he offers sheepishly.

"Would you prefer to switch?" Taehyung asks, voice like silk, eyes like a sauna. Jeongguk melts, nods meekly, begs with the helplessness of his expression and the unwillingness he has to make eye contact. Because he's not mistaken— the shakiness in Jeongguk's voice isn't all a figment of fear; the lust hasn't dissipated. They'd hit a bump, yes, but there's too much tension in these four walls to give up now.

So Jeongguk goes lax, swallowing the lump in his throat to notice the way that Taehyung's fingers curl back around his length and he clings onto whatever he can find to stable himself, eyes forced shut so he doesn't mewl too loudly.

"P-Please."

But it's unnecessary. Even if Taehyung wasn't willing to do whatever Jeongguk asked of him already, he can't think of anything more appealing than having the younger boy fall apart inside of him as opposed to beneath him.

"I've always wanted to be fucked by someone more submissive than me," Taehyung breathes his words out with a lazy smile, laying back on the mattress, the corner of Jeongguk's artwork brushing at his shoulder which is quickly placed to be safe atop the bedside table, and then all of his attention returns to the boy with eyes like the moon. "Someone who tries to keep up their stamina although their knees are shaking."

Jeongguk doesn't approve of the whine that he manages to let slip from the thought of getting the elder boy like that, all alone, but when Taehyung hears it, he props himself up on his elbows and brings them back to looking at each other.

"You'd enjoy that, hm? I'd teach you how. Tell you exactly what feels good," Taehyung uses the tips of his fingers to guide Jeongguk's jaw back up to look at him when he tries to shy way. "Words, Ggukie. I love your voice, please let me hear it."

"I want to... do... that," Jeongguk mumbles, the reserve of his voice making Taehyung laugh quietly to himself. "Do that for you."

"Tell me what you want to do. I want to hear you say the words," The blond sits up properly, leaning into Jeongguk enough that he can practically taste him again, but the smile on his lips stops anything from happening although they're close enough together that even the quietest whisper would be audible.

And Taehyung strokes his hands from Jeongguk's cheeks down to his chest, the grazing of the heat in his palm over the younger's pebbled nipples drags a breathy whimper from his throat. "You like that? Tell me what you want and I'll do it again— help you make those pretty noises."

"I want," Jeongguk stammers on his next words, heart thumping against his chest as he tries to swallow normally after the touch has sparked electric through his chest. "Want to fu...fuck you."

"Right here?" Taehyung prompts, a smug smile on his lips.

"On my bed." He mewls, a choke threatening his throat when Taehyung presses the pads of his thumbs over his nipples. "Wanna... f-fuck you in my— ah... my bed."

"Why? Wanna make me come over your sheets?" The other boy moans now, the words building the dirtiest pictures he's ever experienced in his mind. "Gonna do that for me?" He rubs his thumbs over the hardening buds, revelling in the wash of pleasure that wracks through Jeongguk's body; his muscles loosening and his fingers curling around Taehyung's hip.

"Can I?" Jeongguk whispers now, eyes screwed shut as Taehyung pushes him back down into the mattress, all heavy breathing and hazy vision, chest glistening as it plummets and climbs until all that's left is the sound of his mind trying to catch up.

"Can you? I don't know..." Taehyung leaves a burning, open-mouthed kiss on Jeongguk's collar bone before pushing off of him, a mischievous grin plastered across his satin lips as he stretches much like a cat at the edge of the bed, chest still pressed against the sheets as one hand hangs off of the corner and his ass is poised teasingly in the air.

Jeongguk gulps, bug eyed as he cranes his neck to watch the display— the music and the rain all bend and merge to conform to the wishes of their new conductor. And Jeongguk sings the lead in this choir, his body under the hypnosis of Taehyung's movements, drawing nearer and nearer, gormless and at the mercy of his own lust. And that feels okay. He's not doing anything wrong. It's all okay.

"I mean, could you stop yourself?" Taehyung tempts Jeongguk over with a relaxed wiggle of his hips, body rolling down once against the mattress and then stilling again at the feeling of two warm hands on the back of his thighs. Jeongguk slowly strokes upwards over his butt and then trails a finger down his spine.

Taehyung's hairs all raise on end; a standing ovation for the boy with hands so unsure and tepid that make a chorus of shivers sing through the fear. And Taehyung's fingers curl into the comforter, cheek rubbing against the softest part of the fluffy blanket when the pad of a finger pushes testingly against his rim.

"No," Jeongguk replies, and the question almost makes him feel guilty. "I don't... don't think I c-can help it."

It feels like a trick. It all feels like a trick. But people only try to pull the tricks that they think you'll fall for, and he doesn't want to cause any arguments, so he'll let Taehyung be right tonight and he'll expose his biggest fears— make it known how much he likes this, and try to swallow back the unease that results.

"Give it to me then," Taehyung says with a bite of his lip that sees Jeongguk flustered.

"I-I don't have any lube or, I... I've never... No ones been here for... this... before," The younger of the two makes his bashful statement and Taehyung thinks it's adorable that he should be so worried.

"Just spit for me, baby..." Taehyung gives Jeongguk a heart attack with the pet name, and the whole concept makes him twitch, but he'll never admit that— thinks it might be the most embarrassing reaction he could've had. "I don't mind it dry, but it'd feel so much better like that," and he presses his legs together to add to that statement just to feel the pressure of his thighs against his cock.

"And I'm clean— check every time someone fucks me. So if you're good, I'm good." Taehyung's addition does make Jeongguk slightly uncomfortable, because in all honesty he's not so at ease with the whole 'people have sex' thing like you might expect someone of his profession to be, but he brushes it aside when he notices Taehyung attempting to thrust into his own thighs.

He brushes it all aside. All of the doubt— that nagging voice in the back of his head that sounds eerily like the one person he'd like not to think about most in this moment. Because Taehyung's there. He's desperate to be touched and shaken in a way that is raw and masterful. His muse. The one that sparks desire, passion, and awakens the fearlessness of art in a soul that was once dormant and weak.

Because art is unafraid. It is bold and it is brave and it never says no to the opportunity to make something beautiful for fear of what someone else might think.

And so Jeongguk spits, makes Taehyung moan at the lewd noise it makes, and do so even louder at the way it clings to his skin when Jeongguk lines his tip up and prepares to enter a whole new world with this one motion. That which lasts a million moments all in one from the second Taehyung's breath spikes to the one wherein Jeongguk pushes in, up to his base.

"Oh my God, Ggukie... Baby, you fill me up so well—" Taehyung's words are lost to a drunken mind which focuses only on the primal urge he has always ignored— the one that says he should speed up and take it all and never look back.

"Can I m-move?" He asks, meek as ever, an added strain and rasp to his voice that makes Taehyung's head spin.

"Of course, baby. Fuck me, make yourself feel good," And the choice in phrasing is odd, even through the delusion, but Jeongguk doesn't focus on it because all he can chance thinking about is how good this feels in order to repress the things that'd set him off into tears instead.

Taehyung on the other hand has his mind blown; this doesn't feel like just another set of hands and a cock. It feels warm, tentative. Feels like reality.

And as thrusts pick up, breathing hastens until it's all that's audible beneath Taehyung's rather airy and loud moans which Jeongguk definitely doesn't want to hear cease— he's very much spurred on by the sound of them because they let him know that this is okay and they don't sound like those which he'd heard before which couldn't be associated with his own pleasure.

No, don't think about that.

But alongside the repression of those thoughts, new ones bloom, and he feels like a virgin all over again because this sex feels good and it feels acceptable and it feels like disgust has no place amongst the humidity of sweaty skin and sweltering breaths. It feels like he's allowed to enjoy it for what it is and without the restriction of guilt, he feels the desire chase him faster than any hunting cat could catch its prey.

And he doesn't know what to do when he feels a shock flash through his body so quickly that he has no time to stop it, and he comes, hard and unsteady with enough jitters to make the bed shake.

There's no warning for Taehyung who bucks backwards when a hot seed is fucked into him before choked apologies come his way and he's abruptly pulled out of, leaving him to cry out just once at the discomfort of being empty, clenching around thin air.

"S-Sorry, I'm so— God, I'm sorry," Jeongguk blubbers, standing up from the bed as Taehyung tries to figure out why this situation is occurring. There's no reason he can think of at all that could explain why Jeongguk's been so embarrassed about all of this. Unless—

"No, no, baby don't apologise— You've been a lot more considerate about what I want than any other guy— they usually come and don't even think about touching me I swear but I... You would've told me if— I mean... This isn't your first time is it, Ggukie?"

Jeongguk's heart feels like it's about to exit his body as he stands gormless at the door of the bed. Oh my God, he's so embarrassed and it's all too much and is the room spinning because his legs aren't able to stay steady and he's pretty sure there isn't usually a lamp on the ceiling but oh my God this isn't how you breathe correctly and those aren't tears that are making his vision blurry and what is this feeling in his gut that's—

"I— I feel sick," He chokes, Taehyung's eyebrows knitting together in worry as he watches Jeongguk make his way hastily to the bathroom which he doesn't leave for at least twenty minutes.

And each of those minutes finds Taehyung guiltier and guiltier for accepting the invite and staying where he wasn't supposed to stay and ruining his chances with the nicest guy he's ever met by doing all he knows how to do. And maybe that terrifies him because if Jeongguk doesn't like sex then what if Taehyung has absolutely nothing to offer him? Oh God, not even his body made Jeongguk feel good enough.

What more could he possibly do?

Meanwhile, after Jeongguk's fingers finished fumbling in typing out messages to Yoongi through ragged breathing and a toxic train of thought, he'd been talked down from the paranoia and finally come to settle his nerves significantly.

But Jesus Christ, he promised himself he wasn't this weak. Promised himself nothing significant had come of all of this. But here he stands, staring at his reflection in the mirror in pure anguish, asking why it is that he feels so disgusted by something that anyone else would die to experience.

But he wipes his eyes and Taehyung pulls his thoughts together, two contrasting stances separated by only one wall as the lull of the storm outside seems nowhere in sight.

When Jeongguk comes back to his bedroom, Taehyung is wearing his boxers and fiddling with the sleeves of his blouse which he had halfheartedly pulled back up over his shoulders, eyes fixed on the drawing in his lap which Jeongguk had completed only a few hours ago.

"I should go," Taehyung whispers, peering up hesitantly at Jeongguk who hasn't managed to put any clothes on yet. They feel like two strangers, almost. Unwilling to address why this had ended as it had done. There's a hickey on his collarbone which Taehyung thinks suits him so well, contrasting his milky skin so daintily that it's hard to look at anything else. It makes him feel bad now.

"Please... stay," Jeongguk shakes his head, determined that he isn't hopeless and that he can fix things for himself just like Yoongi had promised him. "Don't leave. I..."

"I'm sorry."

They both say it at the same time and fall then into a murky silence that swims through their lungs. The words holding so much meaning to both of them for different reasons that feels so sick and twisted that the apology itself doesn't seem to do it justice. But it's a start. And it's all they have.

"Don't be. I freaked out for — for no reason and I wanted to keep you safe from the storm so please... please don't go." The brunette says, not meeting Taehyung's gaze as he nods, waiting as Jeongguk slips his own boxers back on and stands awkwardly as though there might be something left to say.

"I still think you're extraordinary, Ggukie," Taehyung whispers when Jeongguk slips into the bed beside the edge he's sitting on, waiting quietly for Taehyung to get in beside him. And he does, naturally so— as though the words he'd spoken hadn't caused a shift in Jeongguk's heart at all. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you by asking that... I know I shouldn't have. I'll listen if you ever want to explain, but you don't have to. You never have to do anything."

"I still think you're... You're wonderful, Taehyung. And don't apologise I — I don't know what happened. I just... It's okay."

"Jeongguk?" Taehyung asks, turning to face the other boy, lights cast against the side of his face to make his skin look all the more ethereal. The tear stains littered across his cheeks look magnificent although they're not reminiscent of anything joyful. But Taehyung believes that they speak for growth. A growth that is both necessary and beautiful. Like the cocoon out of which a caterpillar becomes a butterfly.

"Yes?"

"Can you... Can you call me blossom again? I hoped I might get to hear it in person... It makes me feel good." The request is oddly quiet for Taehyung, makes Jeongguk's breathing slow down, all the comfort he'd found on Taehyung's livestream washing over him once more. "You were so different over message— not that you're bad in person, you still make me feel human and safe beyond anything anyone else has —it's just, I'm afraid that maybe you don't like me so much now that you've met me."

"Oh,  I... I'm sorry, I was just so nervous that maybe I wouldn't be what you expected and Yoongi usually lets me know when I'm not being approachable or not making eye contact or speaking well or rambling and I've been trying so hard to focus on not doing those things without him here to remind me and so I haven't been so natural with what I'm saying like I am over message. And I'm really nervous a lot and I'm sorry and I like you so much, blossom, you have nothing to worry about and if I make you feel safe then I really hope you'll let me continue to do so because you deserve to feel that way and you deserve to feel human and—"

"Jeonggukie," Taehyung whispers when he notices that Jeongguk hasn't been breathing so good. He scoots over closer to the younger boy and rests his head on his chest, wanting to hide the massive smile on his face and mimic the warmth that the pet name has inside of his tummy with the warmth outside.

"Yeah?" Jeongguk's heart is right beneath Taehyung's ear and he grows painfully conscious that he'll notice its beating so quickly that it might just break out of his ribcage and let Taehyung know how nervous he is.

"You're rambling," The blond giggles.

"Sorry—" And just as Jeongguk goes to ramble more for an apology, Taehyung tilts his head upwards and presses a chaste kiss to his jaw before snuggling in properly into Jeongguk's heat, feeling an awkward arm belonging to the other boy settle down against the mattress beside him.

"I think it's absolutely adorable, and you don't have to change that for me. If you ramble on and on then I'll make sense of the points myself and just enjoy the sound of your voice, and if you ever want me to slow down because I'm making you uncomfortable, then you can tell me so we can figure this out together." Taehyung assures the boy with a voice like the lullaby that Jeongguk had always begged for as a child. "You focus on breathing— I'll focus on thinking."

"Okay, blossom," Jeongguk's lips hint at a smile as he hears the storm die down outside until only the trickle of rain remains. "Thank you."

"Thank you, I don't think I've felt this capable of sleeping so early in months," Taehyung says— a yawn coming to back up his point at the near mention of sleep.

His eyelids droop heavily with every word and it's the last test he can handle when Jeongguk's palm rests on his back, a gentle reassurance that he'll still be there in the morning when his eyes adjust to the light and leave him a silhouette; kissed by the seraphs and baked in the sunlight.

"Me neither," Jeongguk responds earnestly, one easy breath coming and passing out into the ambience of the newly quiet room— the radio long having died after the batteries had gone so long without replacement. But the jazz is no match for the smooth solo of Taehyung's relaxed breaths— Jeongguk's new favourite song as he realises that he, too, is going to find the sleep he seldom gets.

And with two quiet goodnight's, the boys fall asleep tangled amongst each other— no knowledge in their minds that what they faced tonight is only a small piece of the puzzle.

But the relationship between the muse and the artist has always been a peculiar one. To fall so deep for passion in its human form seems a dangerous game to play— a gamble in which only the foolish could ever take part in —but broken hearts brew the prettiest of songs, and Jeongguk's quite sure that however this ends, it would've been worth it.

Because when worse comes to worse, his muse is his purpose. Never will he turn him down.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
i nEARLY fell asleep n it's 2 am and
i am so unhealthy why am i doing
this idk i rlly love this book it's a nice
time even if it's gotta get a bit angsty
sometimes idk

next chapter i might do yoonmin?
depends idkk