DYING TO KNOW | TAEKOOK

9. I Know I'm Not The Only One

*Brief content warning for strong language, mature themes, references to sex / sexuality*
♾♾♾

Jungkook missed his flight the next day. Not deliberately of course, but he took an Ambien and, well, slept right through it. He didn't even bother scheduling another one.

Kelly was furious, but he guessed that she was more furious that he didn't want to talk to her about why he wanted the flight home in the first place, or why he missed it.

She also wasn't exactly thrilled that he stopped leaving the house altogether, ordering a peloton and a treadmill. He ran in the safety of his house instead of in the street.

He couldn't risk seeing attractive, gay, Taehyung. He was distracted, totally distracted and couldn't really get much done.

He ignored emails. Got distracted in meetings. Accomplished nothing.

Instead, he took up boxing. He joined Trinity Fight Club and buried himself in that. He lost five pounds in a week boxing every day.

He went back to ignoring Jimin. He ignored Kelly, only answering her emails.

He wrote prolifically, but poorly, about only one topic and not one that would ever see the light of day.

The only appointments he kept were with Namjoon, who knew something was up, he just didn't exactly know what it was. Not like Jungkook really wanted to tell him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind knew that keeping secrets from his therapist was the opposite of productive behavior but he just didn't really want to talk about it, he rationalized.

Yoongi and Hobi texted him frequently, inviting themselves over, offering to bring food, drinks, weed.

Jungkook refused more often than not. He found it hard to focus and didn't know why. He didn't want them to worry, or pry, realistically.

♾♾♾

Kelly was so furious with his childish behavior that she RSVPed yes to attend the annual gala for the LA LGBT Center.

She informed him of this on the day of the event by showing up to his house dressed in an incredibly beautiful, blue Elie Saab dress with a Zegna tux for him. And then shoved him into the shower.

She accompanied him, which was a relief, and he said nothing as he drove them into the gala that evening.

"Don't get drunk," she admonished as they entered the affair and he skulked away from her. He hated these events.

He was always happy to write a check but didn't really need the Fitzgerald-esque excess. It was all pomp and circumstance.

So he jammed himself into a corner and held two flutes of champagne, double fisting as he surveyed the room.

"Boo," he heard out of his left ear.

He turned his head without missing a beat and just sighed. Fucking Taehyung.

He was standing there looking amazing, all sorts of old school Hollywood beauty oozing off of him.

Jungkook found it incredibly alluring, er, annoying. That was it. Annoying.

But he didn't dwell on it and swallowed hard, "Hi," he ad libbed vacantly, "Here," he pushed one of glasses into Taehyung's grasp.

His smile felt like a sickening combination of real and fake.