Taehyung stepped into his penthouse, the door closing softly behind him. The city lights from the floor-to-ceiling windows spilled into the room, casting long, soft reflections across the polished floor. He sighed deeply, shrugging off the tension of the day.
A sudden hiccup slipped out of him, a small, almost comical reminder that he had been pushing himself harder than usual. "Who's remembering me at night, huh?" he muttered to himself with a faint smile, rolling his shoulders as if to shake off the stiffness from hours of concentration and meetings.
The sauna had left him drained yet oddly satisfied. The heat, the sweat, the tipsy laughter, the casual candidness with Matt, it had been a release, a rare moment where he could drop the armor he wore for the world. That memory still lingered, soft and warm in the back of his mind, but here, in the quiet of his penthouse, he didn't dwell.
He kicked off his shoes, letting the heels thump softly against the floor as he removed his jacket, his shirt following in a smooth motion. Each piece of clothing left him feeling lighter, as though every layer carried a fraction of the day's weight away. His trousers were next, and then, finally, his socks, leaving him entirely bare in the dim glow of his living room.
Taehyung paused at the edge of his bed, running a hand through his damp hair. The memory of the sauna lingered, but it didn't press or demand; it was merely there, like a faint pulse under his skin. He shook his head slightly, amused at himself.
"It was tiring, yet… strangely relieved," he murmured, voice low, almost lost in the quiet. He slipped under the crisp, cool sheets, the fabric soft against his skin, and let his body sink into the mattress.
He closed his eyes, letting the silence of the penthouse envelope him. For once, there was no need to be alert, no need to command attention, no need to protect or perform. Just him, alone with the weight of his own thoughts and the faint ache of muscles still warm from the sauna.
Hiccups escaped him again, small and involuntary, and he chuckled softly, a sound that was rare for anyone else to hear. He shrugged, rolling onto his side. "Guess it's just me again as usual," he said quietly, half to himself, half to the empty room. There was a fleeting smile as he imagined no one there, no cameras, no eyes, no expectations. Only him and the soft city lights filtering through the glass.
The fatigue settled into him fully, a soothing heaviness that made his eyelids droop. For weeks, he hadn't felt this way, so free, unguarded, and utterly himself. The sauna had left a lingering warmth in his muscles and a lingering clarity in his mind. Even the hiccups, normally annoying, felt like part of the night's rhythm, part of the rare normalcy he allowed himself to enjoy.
Taehyung rolled onto his back, arms stretching above his head, eyes closed, and exhaled slowly. The penthouse was quiet but not lonely; it felt intimate in its emptiness, a rare sanctuary where he could just exist without expectations. He let himself linger in that sensation, in the simplicity of the moment.
Images of the day passed through his mind briefly, meetings, the female CEO's unwanted attention, Jungkook's polite interruptions but they no longer carried the edge they had in the office. Here, it all felt distant, almost trivial. The thoughts were there, acknowledged but contained, folded neatly away beneath the quiet comfort of the bed and the release he felt from the sauna.
Taehyung's breathing slowed, his body fully relaxing into the mattress. The hum of the city outside, the soft gleam of lights reflecting off the polished surfaces, and the gentle coolness of the room created a cocoon around him. For the first time in what felt like weeks, he could truly breathe, letting the stress, the tension, and the controlled demeanor he wore daily fall away completely.
His fingers twitched lightly against the sheets, a small, idle movement as he drifted toward sleep. There was no urgency or expectation, only quiet and warm solitude. The hiccups had finally ceased, leaving only the faint echo of amusement in his chest.
Taehyung's mind wandered lazily, unguarded, free of all pressures. The day's burdens had faded into the background, leaving only the gentle hum of the night, the comfort of the sheets, and the rare, precious ability to simply be. He closed his eyes fully, allowing the darkness behind his lids to take him, letting sleep descend softly over him, tired yet completely, unshakably relaxed.
Meanwhile, Jungkook in his own small, dimly lit room, was lying on his bed, restless. The images of the dream refused to leave him, the warmth of Taehyung's skin, the teasing smile, the closeness, and the kiss. His chest still burned faintly, and worse, the undeniable pressure between his legs left him squirming under the sheets. He pressed his palms over his face, groaning.
This is ridiculous… it's just a dream… I'm straight… But the thought of Taehyung, his body, that smirk, and the damn kiss had twisted itself stubbornly into his mind. Not Hannah, not any other girl he'd ever imagined, just Taehyung.
Jungkook shifted uncomfortably, tugging the blanket higher, the stiff, urgent heat impossible to ignore. He knew he had to do something about it, or risk lying awake all night, torturing himself. His fingers hovered over his sides, hesitating, the shame prickling sharply at his skin.
Finally, with a resigned groan, he reached for his laptop, opening a site he knew well enough. He told himself it was to relieve the pressure, to get some peace and maybe, finally, sleep. His thoughts didn't wander to any woman not even Hannah but circled relentlessly back to Taehyung: the arms, the chest, the teasing, unreachable smile. As he began, the blush in his cheeks deepened, a mix of shame and involuntary excitement, his breath hitching.
"What the hell am I doing?" he whispered to himself, panic and arousal fighting for control. But his body betrayed him completely, reacting to thoughts of Taehyung, not any girl, as his pulse quickened, his heart thudding with a strange, unfamiliar longing.
He forced himself to continue, rationalizing it as a means to sleep, a way to quiet the heat that refused to subside, though every flicker of movement, every imagined touch, was entirely Taehyung. Jungkook's mind spun in confusion, guilt, and undeniable fascination all at once, and for the first time, he was forced to confront the unsettling truth: it wasn't just curiosity anymore.
Jungkook's fingers moved with a nervous urgency, heat and desperation coiling tight in his chest. Every thought, every image, was of Taehyung, his skin glistening, that teasing, impossibly confident smile, the way he'd leaned in just inches from Jungkook in the dream. He bit down hard on his lower lip, tasting blood slightly, just to keep from making any sound.
The tension in his body built unbearably, muscles taut, heart hammering in his chest. He pressed his thighs together, shifting slightly to keep control, but the pleasure pulsed stronger with every flicker of imagined contact. He could feel himself teetering closer, dangerously close, and the need to release was overwhelming.
With a sharp inhale through clenched teeth, he forced himself to stay silent, biting down harder, letting the friction and fantasy wash over him. His breath hitched, back arching slightly against the bed, hands trembling as he rode the intense wave.
Finally, the tight coil in his body snapped, a shiver rolling from his stomach outward. Jungkook bit his lip so hard he tasted the copper tang of blood, muffling the sharp, almost embarrassed sounds that threatened to escape. His chest heaved, sweat prickling his skin, and when it was over, he collapsed face-first into the sheets, flushed, panting, and acutely aware of how entirely Taehyung had dominated his thoughts.
After what felt like hours, Jungkook finally drifted into a restless sleep. His body sagged against the sheets, muscles finally relaxing, though his mind still flickered with fragments of the dream and the lingering heat of his own release. The apartment was silent, only the faint hum of the city outside the window accompanying him as he surrendered to exhaustion.
Meanwhile, Taehyung lay sprawled across his bed, utterly relaxed. The warmth from the sauna earlier, combined with the slight haze of alcohol from the evening, had dulled every lingering tension. His chest rose and fell evenly, lips slightly parted, and the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Whatever had happened over the past few days, the board meetings, the interruptions, Matt, even the lingering stress of responsibilities was completely forgotten.
The penthouse was bathed in soft light from the city, and Taehyung's breathing was deep, steady, untroubled. In his own world, he was weightless, untethered, and utterly unaware of anything or anyone.
Two very different kinds of sleep claimed them, one chaotic, restless, colored with curiosity and tension; the other peaceful, calm, a rare moment of total release. Neither of them knew how these separate nights would ripple into the days to come.