Chapter Text
𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠🎶
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The night is suffocating, thick with humidity and a tense, oppressive heat that lingers in the air like a bad memory. Jungkook sits in his car, the low hum of the engine the only sound in the vast, empty parking lot. His fingers curl around the steering wheel, knuckles white, trembling. The interior feels like a furnace, hot air swirling around him, mixing with the scent of sweat clinging to his skin. His breath comes in short, shallow bursts, the weight of the decision before him pressing down hard on his chest, suffocating him.
Outside, droplets of rain begin to streak the windshield, a thin, fragile layer of water blurring the neon lights from the nearby street. Through the haze, he spots them—junkies huddled around a fire in the distance. The flicker of flames reflects in their hollow eyes, casting shadows on their gaunt faces. He watches the silent exchange of drugs, the movements fluid and practiced. He remembers being there, once, in that darkness. It creeps back in—the suffocating sense of madness that wrapped around him like a second skin when Taehyung disappeared, when the world stopped making sense and every breath felt like a curse.
The memory of those endless nights claws at him, gnawing at the edges of his sanity. The nights when Taehyung was gone—leaving him alone, hollow, barely existing. It had driven him to the edge, to the brink of something unthinkable. He stares blankly ahead, feeling that same old madness stir, the overwhelming urge to do something, anything, to escape the crushing weight of Taehyung’s rejection. The disgust in Taehyung’s eyes, the way his touch now seemed like a burden, haunts Jungkook’s mind, replaying over and over until it feels like his head might split in two.
Jungkook’s whole body starts to tremble, a violent shudder wracking him from head to toe. His hand clenches into a fist, slamming into his chest repeatedly, desperate to feel something other than this suffocating emptiness. "ARGHHHHH!" he screams, the sound raw and primal, echoing in the silence of the car. Tears stream down his face, hot and fast, blurring his vision until all he can see are the smudged lights outside and the fire flickering in the distance.
He thinks back to the letters—the love letters he wrote with trembling hands, bleeding fingers, his heart poured out onto the pages. Five months of absence, and still, Taehyung never even read them. Letters sealed with blood, his skin rubbed raw from gripping the pen so tightly, hoping that somehow, in those desperate words, Taehyung would hear him, would understand the depths of his love. But nothing. The letters had gone unread, unloved, just like him.
Jungkook gasps for breath, his chest aching from the force of his own fists pounding against it. The urge to make it stop, to end this unbearable pain, rises in him like a tidal wave. He thinks of the balcony, the endless nights spent staring down at the empty streets below, wondering if falling would finally bring him peace. His hands shake violently, his heart pounds erratically, and all he wants is for the pain to end—for this love, this obsession, this torment to stop.
The rain outside starts to fall harder, blurring everything into a kaleidoscope of colors and lights. And in the middle of it all, Jungkook is lost, consumed by the weight of his love for Taehyung—a love that’s tearing him apart, piece by piece.
But it's all crumbling down now. Jungkook’s strength, his patience—everything he’s held onto is slipping away. Exhaustion settles in like a heavy fog, clouding his mind as he thinks of Taehyung, of their unborn baby girl. She might grow up without a father. She doesn't deserve that. But maybe it’s what’s best? Maybe it’s better than forcing Taehyung to put up with his presence, when just the sight of him seems to make Taehyung sick. His breath hitches as the weight of that thought presses down on him, the suffocating air inside the car closing in, making it hard to think, hard to breathe.
Panic claws at his chest, tightening until he can barely move. His head slumps forward, hitting the steering wheel with a dull thud as his hands fumble, shaking, to open the door. The moment he manages to pull the handle, he collapses onto the cold, rough asphalt outside. He doesn't have the strength to pick himself up. Or maybe, deep down, he doesn't want to. If he gets up, it will mean walking towards death. And death, he realizes, would erase the memories—memories of him and Taehyung that are already slipping away into the fog of pain.
So, instead, he cries. Curled up on the ground beside the car, he lets the tears fall, soaking the pavement beneath him. His sobs echo in the empty street, his vision blurred as he stares ahead at the junkies huddled around their fire. They’re a distant image, flickering in the heat of the flames, and yet they’re all he can see. He doesn't know what he wishes for more: that Taehyung will find peace in his death, or that maybe, somehow, in death, he’ll find peace knowing that Taehyung is better off without him.
For what? All this pain, all this madness—because he was afraid to admit that he had love in his heart for Taehyung? Afraid to accept the depth of it, the truth of it, until it was too late. The regret is a slow burn, searing into his chest. He feels his legs push him up, shaky, weak steps towards the junkies ahead. Every step brings a flood of memories rushing back—the laughter, the kisses, the promises made in the dead of night. But most of all, the look on Taehyung’s face, the fear and disgust in his eyes.
Tears stream down Jungkook’s cheeks, mixing with the rain, as he walks towards the flames, a broken man, unsure of where to go, unsure if there's even a way back from the pain that’s swallowed him whole.
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The night is cold and heavy, darkness stretching across the empty street, broken only by the faint flicker of streetlights and the rustling wind. Taehyung’s night robe billows around him as he stumbles forward, his breath coming in frantic, shallow pants. His hand clutches his baby bump, holding it protectively as the pain in his chest grows unbearable. “He has to be here somewhere,” Taehyung’s voice shakes, barely louder than a whisper, but laced with desperation. His heart races, pounding wildly in his chest as panic tightens its grip.
“Taehyung, wait! Slow down!” Jimin calls from behind, struggling to catch up as his feet hit the pavement. When he finally reaches Taehyung, he grabs his friend’s trembling shoulders, trying to steady him. But Taehyung doesn’t stop—he can’t. He’s terrified, trembling with fear and adrenaline, his eyes wide and unfocused. He can barely hear Jimin’s words over the deafening rush of his own heartbeat.
The night swallows them, the cold biting at their skin, the occasional distant honk of cars their only reminder that life still moves on somewhere far away. The eerie silence of the street feels suffocating, the emptiness making Taehyung’s panic worse. “Every second we waste is another second Jungkook could be lying somewhere… overdosed, alone, dying!” Taehyung’s voice cracks as he screams, the anguish in his words clear. They’ve been through this before—when Jungkook’s addiction nearly took him the first time. Taehyung knows the signs, and Jungkook’s disappearance is too familiar. He hasn’t been home in over a day, and Taehyung’s worst fears are gnawing at him, clawing at his heart.
They’ve searched for over an hour now, combing the streets, checking every corner, every alley, but there’s been no sign of Jungkook. “What if we don’t find him?” Taehyung chokes out, his knees threatening to give way as the weight of his fear crushes him. He crumbles into Jimin’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Jimin pulls him close, holding him tightly, whispering words of reassurance, though his own worry is evident. “We’ll find him, Taehyung. We will,” Jimin promises, but Taehyung only shakes his head, tears spilling down his cheeks.
“I can’t live without him, Jimin. I can’t. Not again,” Taehyung begs, his voice broken, his body shaking with every sob. The thought of losing Jungkook, of going through life without him, is unbearable.
Suddenly, the silence is interrupted—a faint noise, a shuffle, somewhere down the street. They pull apart, both of them freezing in place for a moment before moving quickly, their feet carrying them further down the darkened road. Taehyung’s heart races, the sound of it thudding in his ears as they draw closer. His tears blur his vision, but he blinks them away, eyes scanning the street desperately.
Then he sees it. “That’s… that’s his car,” Taehyung breathes out, his voice barely above a whisper. He doesn’t wait—he rushes forward, Jimin close behind him. As they approach, two shadowy figures dart away from the car, disappearing into the night. The windows are shattered, the ground littered with broken glass. “No… no,” Taehyung gasps, his hand flying to his mouth, his heart sinking into his stomach as he reaches the driver’s seat.
The car is empty, glass scattered across the seat and floor. His worst fears hit him all at once. Jungkook isn’t here. There’s no sign of him. Only the broken remnants of his car, abandoned on the side of the street.
“Please, no,” Taehyung whispers painfully, tears streaming down his face as he collapses against the car, his fingers shaking as he touches the cold, broken glass. His chest tightens with fear, his vision blurring again as the darkness presses in around him.
"He's not here," Jimin sighs, his voice heavy with a mixture of frustration and fear. His heart clenches painfully—he doesn’t want to lose hope, but the sight of Jungkook’s empty car, the shattered windows, and the eerie silence is suffocating. There’s no sign of him, no clue to where he might be. Taehyung, still trembling, wipes at his tear-streaked face, his breath coming in ragged sobs. The emptiness in his chest is growing unbearable, the panic rising again.
“Do you think they took him?” Taehyung’s voice cracks as he speaks, his words trembling with horror. His tears are endless now, pouring from him as the sickening thought settles in—Jungkook’s car is here, but he isn’t. The fear grips him tight, squeezing his chest so painfully he can barely breathe.
Jimin shakes his head, though he looks just as terrified. "No, no... those guys are homeless and high. They’d be too dumb to think of taking him." He tries to reassure Taehyung, but the words ring hollow. Taehyung doesn’t feel better—in fact, he feels worse. His mind spins with terrifying images of Jungkook lost, alone, hurt.
“He should be close then. He couldn’t have gone far,” Taehyung mutters, almost to himself, his voice thin and desperate. Jimin nods quickly in agreement, though the fear in his eyes lingers. Without wasting another moment, they both move—splitting up as they hurry down opposite sides of the street, scanning every corner, every alley, calling his name.
But all they find are darkened storefronts, abandoned corridors, and scattered trash. The silence is so heavy it feels like it’s choking Taehyung. Every second that passes makes the emptiness inside him grow deeper. His heart beats wildly, the panic rising, the thought of never seeing Jungkook again creeping closer with every minute they don’t find him.
Then—he hears it. Faint. Barely there. A soft, painful groan.
Taehyung freezes, his breath catching in his throat. “What is it?” Jimin asks, stepping closer, his eyes scanning the street. Taehyung doesn’t answer, just lifts a trembling finger to his lips, signaling for silence. And then, there it is again—another low groan, pained and desperate.
They step forward, inching closer to the sound, and Taehyung’s eyes shift to his right. He stops in his tracks, his heart nearly stopping with him. Down a narrow side street, hidden from view, is Jungkook.
He’s slumped against the cold wall, his body crumpled, his head hanging low, and Taehyung’s breath catches at the sight of him. A shard of glass is lodged deep into Jungkook’s thigh, blood staining his clothes, but that’s not the worst of it. Scattered on the ground around him are needles—drugs. The very thing Taehyung had feared most.
"Jungkook..." Taehyung gasps, his voice barely above a whisper, his body moving before his mind can catch up. He rushes to his side, collapsing to his knees beside him, his hands trembling so violently that he can hardly steady them. His fingers hover over Jungkook’s body, terrified to touch him, terrified that it’s already too late.
Jimin’s face pales as he takes in the scene, his heart sinking into his stomach. "I’ll get the car," he says quickly, turning to run back.
But Taehyung can’t hear him anymore. He’s too focused on the broken man in front of him—his husband, the love of his life, reduced to this. His hands finally make contact with Jungkook’s cold skin, and the reality hits him all at once. Jungkook’s face is pale, his lips cracked, his breathing shallow. His body is weak, so weak, and Taehyung’s heart shatters as he cups Jungkook’s face in his hands.
"I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry," Taehyung chokes out between sobs, his tears falling onto Jungkook’s skin. His fingers tremble as they trace Jungkook’s jaw, his thumb brushing gently over his cheek. He can’t stop crying—he can’t stop the overwhelming wave of guilt and fear and pain from drowning him.
Jungkook barely stirs, his eyes half-lidded, his breaths slow and labored. He’s barely conscious, slipping further away with every second. Taehyung leans down, pressing his forehead against Jungkook’s, his tears mingling with the blood and grime.
"Please, stay with me… Please, I can’t lose you," Taehyung whispers, his voice breaking as he clutches Jungkook’s hand. His heart aches, his chest burning with fear, with love, with every bit of regret that has built up inside him. He’s shaking, unable to think of anything else but the thought of Jungkook slipping away from him forever.
Taehyung weeps like a child, his sobs wracking his entire body as he clutches Jungkook’s face. The sound of Jungkook’s weak voice pulls him from the depths of his despair, his trembling hands caressing Jungkook’s cheeks. “Taehyung,” Jungkook whispers, his breath shallow and uneven, yet his gaze remains locked on Taehyung’s tear-streaked face. His fingers twitch, reaching up to touch Taehyung’s hand, his cold skin brushing against the warmth of his husband's. “You found me,” he breathes, each word strained, the pain in his voice cutting through Taehyung’s chest like a knife.
Taehyung’s heart shatters again, and his hands, now desperate, dart to the shard of glass lodged in Jungkook’s thigh. “Why are you bleeding? What happened?” Taehyung’s voice cracks, barely able to hold himself together as he grips the glass with shaking fingers. Without thinking, he yanks it out, Jungkook groaning in agony, his body trembling. Blood spills freely, staining the ground, and Taehyung rips a piece of his robe, pressing it against the wound with all his might to stop the bleeding.
Jungkook gasps, his breathing shallow, but his eyes—those deep, dark eyes that Taehyung has always loved—remain fixed on Taehyung’s. “I-I did this to myself, Taehyung,” he admits, his voice thick with tears, his words catching on every breath. “I had to… or it would have been the syringe. If I gave in to the drug, I realized… I wouldn’t be able to undo the damage it would bring to us. It was hard, so hard, Taehyung. I was so close… but I needed another pain, something greater.”
Taehyung’s heart stutters in his chest, his eyes dropping to the syringe lying forgotten on the ground. “So you stabbed yourself,” Taehyung whispers, horrified, his body frozen as the realization sinks in. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to Jungkook’s, his tears mingling with Jungkook’s as they cry together, breaths intermingling in the cold night air.
Taehyung shakes his head, his sobs growing louder as he presses his bloodied hand harder against Jungkook’s wound. “But you're wrong,” he whispers, his voice trembling. “I’m the one doing the damage, Jungkook. My love has driven you to this, to the point where you’re willing to end your life not once, but twice. What kind of love is that? How much more will we hurt ourselves to prove that our love runs this deep, that it’s more like a drug or a curse?” His voice cracks, and he pants against Jungkook’s lips, tears falling steadily as he gasps for air, for control, for something to hold onto.
Jungkook’s hand lifts, weakly cupping Taehyung’s cheek. “Taehyung… maybe we love like this because we can’t lose each other. Even when it gets too much, even when it hurts like hell, we can’t let go. We love too much to let go.” His voice is soft, his words coming out in a broken whisper, but they carry the weight of everything he’s ever felt for Taehyung. The love, the pain, the desperation. It’s all there, laid bare.
Tears fall freely from Taehyung’s eyes as he shakes his head, his breath hitching in his throat. “That’s insane… we’re insane. And this—this needs to end, Jungkook.” He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching Jungkook’s, pleading, desperate. “You see me, and I see you. No amount of stars in the universe could ever compare to how much I love you, how much I adore you. I’ve been a fool, immature, scared. But I need you to know, I’m begging you to forgive me.” His voice is raw, filled with every ounce of love and regret that has built up over the years, and his hands, stained with blood, press harder on Jungkook’s wound.
With his other hand, Taehyung reaches up, cradling Jungkook’s face, forcing his eyes to stay on him, keeping him awake, keeping him grounded. “Please, Jungkook, stay with me. Don’t leave me. Not again.”
“I should ask for your forgiveness too, Tae,” Jungkook pleads, his voice trembling with emotion. “Forgive me, for I can’t help but go to extreme measures to contain my love for you. The moment I feel you slipping through my fingers, I tear myself apart. Forgive me for not loving myself the way you love me.” His voice cracks, desperation etched into every word, his eyes searching Taehyung’s for a sign of forgiveness. Taehyung, tears brimming in his eyes, leans down and kisses him softly, his lips lingering as if trying to seal Jungkook’s wounds with his love.
“You take my breath away, you know that?” Jungkook murmurs, his voice a soft whisper between their shared breaths. “You consume me whole. I’d give up everything for you in a heartbeat, Tae.” His hands, weak yet determined, pull Taehyung closer, their lips meeting again in soft, lingering kisses, tongues brushing tenderly, dancing in a slow rhythm.
“You won’t have to give up anything,” Taehyung whispers against his lips, his voice thick with love and certainty. “Because I am your everything.” He promises, his fingers brushing away Jungkook’s tears, their foreheads resting together as they drown in each other’s eyes, the world fading away as nothing else matters but the two of them.
Jungkook’s eyes soften, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you… and I don’t want to lose you.” There’s a vulnerability in his words, the raw honesty of a man who’s seen the edge and fears falling over.
Taehyung smiles, his gaze fierce and unwavering. “I love you too, and the only thing I’ll ever lose is myself to you.” His words are confident, full of resolve, his love unwavering even in their darkest moments.
They fall into a comfortable silence, their breaths mingling in the cold night air. The chill surrounds them, but neither of them feels it, too wrapped up in each other. Their hearts beat in unison, burning brighter with the intensity of their passion, their desire. The world could fall apart around them, and they wouldn’t care as long as they were together.
The headlights of a car approach, and Taehyung notices it first. “Jimin’s here,” he says softly, as the car pulls up beside them. Jimin rushes out, his eyes wide with concern as he hurries to help Taehyung lift Jungkook onto his feet. Jungkook winces, leaning heavily on them, his leg barely able to hold him up, but he clings to Taehyung’s side, their bond an unbreakable force even in this moment of pain.
They manage to get him into the car, Jungkook limping as Taehyung helps him settle into the back seat. Taehyung slips in beside him, immediately pulling Jungkook into his chest, his fingers brushing through his hair, caressing his cheek softly as Jungkook’s head rests against his heart.
Jimin starts the car, the engine rumbling to life as they drive towards the hospital, the tension of the night giving way to a quieter, calmer kind of desperation. Taehyung holds Jungkook close, his hand never leaving his skin, reassuring him with every gentle stroke. As they drive through the empty streets, the world outside may be quiet, but within the car, their hearts beat loudly, fiercely, for each other.
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𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬?💕