⚠️ Content Warning: This chapter contains themes of non-consensual sexual contact, manipulation, and coercion. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

Chapter 22: Taken Advantage

The fluorescent lighting in the restroom felt harsh against Taehyung’s eyes, the reflection in the mirror almost unrecognizable to him. His chest rose and fell in short, uneven bursts. He gripped the porcelain sink for balance, his fingers slick with sweat.

He didn’t understand it—just hours ago, before the champagne, he’d felt fine. A little anxious, yes, but stable. Now his body was betraying him: heat crawling over his skin in relentless waves, the air feeling heavier with every breath, the faintest brush of his shirt over his chest making his nipples tighten painfully. The fabric clung to him like a damp second skin.

The sensation was unbearable. It was too hot. Too tight. Every fiber of him screamed to get out of his clothes, to find somewhere cold, somewhere quiet, somewhere far from this suffocating heat.

He stumbled into a cubicle, shutting and locking the door before pressing his forehead to the cool metal wall. He swallowed against the nausea but the bitter taste rose in his throat anyway.

“Taehyung, baby, what’s taking you so long?”

His breath hitched. Jungkook’s voice was far too close—inside the restroom, not muffled by the crowd outside.

Taehyung wanted to answer, but only a strangled, unsteady noise left his throat. His legs felt like they were vibrating under him, and his hands were trembling uncontrollably.

“Are you there, baby?” A knock against the cubicle door followed, sharp enough to make Taehyung flinch.

He bent over the toilet, unsure if he was about to vomit, his panting growing louder in the echoing stall.

“Taehyung.” Jungkook’s tone dropped, hard and commanding. “If you don’t respond to me right now, I’ll break this door open. Do you hear me?”

The warning jolted him. Moving sluggishly, he reached for the lock, his knees wobbling as he pulled the door open.

Jungkook was there, tall and composed, his gaze sweeping over Taehyung’s flushed face and sweat-slicked skin.

Taehyung stumbled forward, catching himself by clutching the lapels of Jungkook’s blazer. “J–Jungkook…” he stammered, shame and confusion battling in his voice.

Jungkook studied him without a flicker of emotion. Taehyung blinked rapidly, tears pricking his eyes from sheer humiliation. “I… I don’t know what’s wrong. My body feels—” he panted, “—weird.”

“Do you want my help?” Jungkook asked quietly, almost too evenly. His hand came up to cup Taehyung’s cheek, thumb brushing against overheated skin. “Tell me what you need, love.”

The touch sent a jolt through Taehyung, his knees nearly buckling as a shiver rippled through him. He leaned into it without realizing.

Jungkook’s face was closer now, their breaths mingling. His right arm wound around Taehyung’s waist, keeping him upright, while his other hand tilted Taehyung’s chin slightly.

“If you don’t tell me,” he murmured, his voice low, deliberate, “how can I help you?”

“I… I don’t know,” Taehyung whispered, eyes glassy. “Please. Help me.” His grip on Jungkook’s blazer tightened as another wave of heat swept over him.

“That’s not enough,” Jungkook said, almost teasing. “I need you to tell me exactly what you want.” His fingers stroked Taehyung’s skin slowly, deliberately.

Tears welled up, his pride dissolving into raw desperation. He pressed his face against Jungkook’s neck, voice breaking. “Please, Jungkookie… touch me.”

“That’s right,” Jungkook said, satisfaction curling his tone. “Tell me everything you want, and I’ll give you everything.”

Shrugging off his blazer, Jungkook draped it over Taehyung’s head, shielding him from the outside world. Then, without warning, he hooked an arm beneath Taehyung’s knees and lifted him into a bridal carry.

The sounds of the party dulled as they moved—doors opening, footsteps against tile and marble.

“Mr. Jeon.” A voice broke through the muffled hum.

“Give me my car keys and leave,” Jungkook said curtly.

There was hesitation. “Do you… need help—”

“Don’t. Ask. Again.” His voice left no room for argument.

Keys rattled, doors opened, and the scent of leather filled Taehyung’s senses. He was lowered into the car, Jungkook tucking his blazer over him again. The world swayed with motion as they drove, but Taehyung couldn’t form thoughts—everything was heat and fog.

When the car finally stopped, the cool air outside hit his skin briefly before Jungkook’s arms encased him again.

People’s voices floated past.

“Good evening, Mr. Jeon.”

“Shall we—”

“No.” Jungkook cut them off sharply. “Don’t bother us unless I tell you to.”

A metallic chime and a shift in the air told Taehyung they were in an elevator. Jungkook’s voice was softer now, almost coaxing. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

Taehyung let the words wash over him, too dazed to question.

The next sound was a door unlocking, swinging open. The air changed again—quieter, more private.

Then, the weight beneath him shifted, and he felt himself sink into a soft mattress. His head rolled to the side, his sight still blurred, but he could make out Jungkook’s silhouette standing at the foot of the bed.

Through the haze, Taehyung saw him slipping out of his blazer completely, untying his necktie with slow, deliberate movements.

The heat in the room seemed to double.

Jungkook stepped closer, leaning over until his shadow framed Taehyung’s flushed face. “You’re gorgeous like this,” he murmured, gaze sweeping over him. “So adorable… begging like that.”

Taehyung whined quietly, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment.

Jungkook smirked. “It’s alright. You’ll be okay. Everything will be fine.”

Then, he closed the distance.

Jungkook’s lips lingered on the corner of Taehyung’s mouth, so close that the warmth of his breath teased at the skin there, but not quite touching where Taehyung’s heart ached for it. He stayed like that for a moment—close enough for Taehyung to feel the faint tremor of his exhale—before shifting, brushing his mouth feather-light along the curve of Taehyung’s cheek.

Taehyung’s lashes fluttered. His fingers curled tighter into the lapels of Jungkook’s blazer, the textured fabric crumpling in his grip.

When Jungkook finally reached his mouth, it was a feather-light press, lips molding against his in a tender, testing contact. His head tilted slightly to the right, deepening the connection just enough for Taehyung to feel the subtle tug of his lower lip.

The air between them turned molten. Jungkook pulled back a fraction, only to tilt his head the other way and seal their mouths again—this time more firmly, his nose brushing Taehyung’s as he angled in.

Taehyung’s fingers tightened in Jungkook’s loosened blazer, knuckles brushing the firm line of his chest beneath. A small, involuntary sound slipped from his throat, caught between their mouths.

Jungkook paused only to savor it, then pressed forward once more, parting his lips slightly to fit more snugly against Taehyung’s. The kiss moved slowly, unhurried yet consuming, his head shifting in a languid arc so his mouth could glide from one corner of Taehyung’s lips to the other before returning to center.

Every movement was purposeful—possessive in its control—yet soft enough to make Taehyung’s mind spin.

When Jungkook finally broke away, his forehead rested against Taehyung’s, thumb brushing lazily over the rapid beat at his throat. “See?” he murmured, voice a velvet thread. “I told you I’d make you feel better.”

Taehyung was panting heavily with his mouth open while Jungkook was simply enjoying the view underneath him.