The Fear

Chapter 2

The mansion's door slammed shut, jolting Jungkook from his reverie. He looked up from arranging the photographs, commission for a long-time client. The tension in the air was thicker than the drying paint. Taehyung stormed into the living room, a dark cloud hanging over him.

"Damn it!" he roared, throwing his briefcase onto the couch with a thud that sent papers scattering across the floor.

Jungkook set down his brush, a knot of apprehension tightening in his stomach. The investor meeting. It didn't go well.

"What happened Tae?" he asked cautiously, already knowing the answer.

Taehyung ran a hand through his hair, his frustration etched on his face. "Postponed. The damn meeting got postponed."

Jungkook's heart sank further. Their chance to present the new marketing strategy – the one he'd poured hours into crafting – was pushed back a week. Another week of uncertainty, another week of the company teetering on the brink.

"Oh," he managed, offering a weak smile. "Do you want some tea?"

"No, I don't want tea, Jungkook," Taehyung snapped, his voice laced with a harshness that caught Jungkook off guard.

"I want..." After some time of thinking he trailed off, his eyes dropping to Jungkook's chest where the sweaty shirt clung to his frame.

The air crackled with a different kind of tension now. A familiar tension, one that usually eased the strain between them. But tonight, Jungkook felt a wall rise within him, a wall built from resentment and disappointment.

Taehyung took a step closer, his demeanor softening slightly. "Come here," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

Jungkook stayed rooted to the spot. "Tae, I'm…"

He trailed off, searching for the right words. Exhausted. Hurt. Lost. But none of it seemed to capture the turmoil within him.

"What is it, Kookie?" Taehyung's voice gentled, concern replacing the earlier irritation.

Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat. "I just finished a commission. It was a big one, took all day."

The lie spilled effortlessly from his lips. He couldn't explain the real reason for his emotional distance, not tonight. Not when Taehyung was like this, a storm cloud hovering overhead.

Taehyung's gaze flickered to the scattered photographs, his expression unreadable. "Looks like you're more focused on your side hustle than your husband lately."

The sting of those words ripped through Jungkook.  Side hustle?  Photography, his passion, his identity – all relegated to a mere "side hustle" in Taehyung's eyes.

"It's not a side hustle," Jungkook said, his voice low and steady. "It's important to me."

There was a flicker of something in Taehyung's eyes, something Jungkook couldn't quite decipher. Then, with a sigh, Taehyung pushed him back against the nearby wall, his hands cupping Jungkook's face.

"I know it's important, Kookie," he murmured, his voice losing its harsh edge. "But I need you… now."

Jungkook wanted to melt into Taehyung's touch, to disappear into the familiar comfort of their intimacy. But tonight, his body felt leaden, his emotions a tangled mess.

He leaned his forehead against Taehyung's hand, feeling the warmth seep into him. "I'm not really in the mood," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper.

Taehyung's touch wavered for a moment, then tightened. "Come on, Kookie," he coaxed, his voice laced with a playful edge. "Don't you want me to fu.k you to heaven ?"