Chapter Text
Taehyung guided Yoongi backward, not pushing, not rushing, until Yoongi’s back met the edge of the bed.
Taehyung stood between his knees, close but not touching, presence overwhelming in its restraint.
“Tell me if I go too far,” he said, voice low, absolute.
“And tell me if you want more.”
Yoongi swallowed.
“You’re already there.”
Something dark and reverent flickered in Taehyung’s eyes.
---
Taehyung didn’t rush him.
That was the first thing Yoongi noticed.
His hands were warm, steady, settling at Yoongi’s waist, as if he belonged there, thumbs pressing just enough to remind him, who was holding who.
Tae’s posture was relaxed, confident, his presence filling the room without a word.
“You don’t have to think,” Taehyung murmured, voice low, almost amused.
“I’ve got you.”
Yoongi swallowed.
His fingers curled into the fabric of Tae’s shirt without meaning to, a soft, instinctive cling, and Tae noticed.
A slow smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips.
“Touchy today?” he teased gently, dipping his head closer, their foreheads brushing.
“I don’t mind.”
His hand slid up Yoongi’s spine, deliberate, claiming.
Not hurried, not greedy.
Just sure.
He leaned in, lips brushing Yoongi’s ear, breath warm enough to make his shoulders tense.
“Relax,” he whispered.
“Let me take care of you, for once.”
Yoongi’s breath stuttered when Taehyung guided him back, not pushing, just steering, like he already knew, Yoongi would follow.
Tae’s fingers traced over skin slowly, reverently, as if memorizing him all over again.
When Yoongi’s breath hitched, Taehyung paused.
He always paused.
“Look at me,” he said softly, not a command, but it felt like one.
Yoongi did.
Taehyung’s gaze softened immediately, thumb brushing beneath Yoongi’s eye, wiping away nothing at all.
“There you are,” he murmured.
“That’s my favorite look.”
He kissed him then, slow, deep, unhurried, not taking.
Just claiming.
Like he had all the time in the world.
Like he wasn’t going anywhere this time.
When Yoongi leaned into him fully, surrendering, Taehyung held him tighter, one hand firm at his lower back, the other cradling him close.
“I’ve got you,” he repeated quietly.
“Every way. Every time.”
And Yoongi believed him, because this time, Taehyung wasn’t letting go.
---
Taehyung realized something, the moment Yoongi looked up at him, instead of away.
Not defiant.
Not guarded.
Open.
It made something settle in his chest –heavy, steady, grounding.
Tae straightened instinctively, posture shifting, presence deepening.
He didn’t rush.
He never rushed Yoongi.
Control, he knew now, wasn’t about force.
It was about choosing to stay gentle, when he could easily be anything else.
“Look at me,” he said quietly.
Not loud.
Not sharp.
Certain.
Yoongi obeyed without thinking, and the way his breath stuttered, told Tae everything.
Good.
Tae’s hand slid to Yoongi’s chin, not lifting it, just holding it there.
An anchor.
“There you are,” he murmured.
“I’ve got you.”
The words weren’t a promise shouted into the dark.
They were a fact.
Yoongi’s fingers curled into Tae’s shirt again, tighter this time, and Tae felt the shift, the moment Yoongi stopped checking himself, and started leaning in.
That trust, made Tae dizzy.
“You don’t have to do anything,” Tae continued, voice low, measured.
“Just… stay right here. Let me take care of this.”
Yoongi nodded, barely perceptible.
Tae leaned in, kissing him slowly, not demanding, but claiming.
His hand stayed firm at Yoongi’s waist, thumb pressing once, grounding him when Yoongi’s knees threatened to soften.
Tae pulled back, just enough to speak against his mouth.
“Breathe,” he instructed gently.
Yoongi did.
Shaky.
Willing.
‘Good boy’
The thought came unbidden, and Tae swallowed it down, choosing control again.
His lips trailed lower – jaw, throat, never rushing, never crossing lines Yoongi hadn’t silently invited him past.
When Tae paused near the faint scar peeking beneath fabric, his touch softened even more.
Taehyung knelt.
That alone stole the breath from Yoongi’s lungs.
His hands slid slowly up Yoongi’s thighs, warm, grounding, stopping just short of intimacy, fingers flexing as if committing the moment to memory.
“May I?” Taehyung asked, eyes lifting.
Yoongi nodded.
Taehyung lifted Yoongi’s shirt, unhurried, respectful, revealing skin that had known pain, endurance, survival.
The scar lay there.
Faint, but real.
Taehyung’s expression changed completely.
No hunger.
No possession.
Only reverence.
“This,” he said quietly, fingers hovering, not touching yet, “is where you carried her.”
Yoongi’s breath hitched.
Taehyung pressed a kiss beside the scar first, not on it.
A promise before devotion.
Then another.
“This,” Tae whispered, reverent, “is proof of how strong you are.”
Yoongi’s breath hitched.
Tae pressed a kiss there slow, respectful, almost devotional, and felt Yoongi melt completely against him.
And another.
When his lips finally brushed over the scar itself, it was slow, lingering, as if he were apologizing without words.
“I should have been here,” Taehyung whispered against his skin.
“For every ache. Every fear. Every night you thought you were alone.”
Yoongi’s hand threaded into Taehyung’s hair, grip tight, emotional walls crumbling.
“I’m here now,” Taehyung continued, kissing the scar again, firmer this time.
“And I see you. All of you.”
His hands slid back up Yoongi’s body, possessive now, no longer tentative, drawing him down into another kiss, deeper, warmer, charged with everything they hadn’t said yet.
That was the moment Tae understood it fully.
He didn’t want power over Yoongi.
He wanted responsibility.
To guide.
To steady.
To be the one Yoongi could fall apart with, and know he’d be held together afterward.
Tae rested his forehead against Yoongi’s, hands still, voice firm and grounding.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said.
Yoongi shook his head, eyes dark, voice barely a whisper.
“Don’t.”
Tae smiled - soft, dangerous, and deeply affectionate.
“Then stay with me,” he said.
“I’ve got you.”
And Yoongi did.
Without fear.
Without doubt.
Without looking for the exit.
—
Taehyung guided him gently, hands warm, presence unyielding in the best way.
Yoongi followed without hesitation, trusting the steadiness in Tae’s movements, the way he never let go, without replacing the touch with something else.
A hand at his back.
A thumb brushing reassurance into his skin.
A quiet, “I’ve got you,” murmured, like it was already proven.
Yoongi let himself sink into it, into Tae’s warmth, into the safety of being wanted, without being consumed.
Tae's lips brushed gently, against the older's forehead.
Warm.
Soft.
Achingly tender.
The younger's lips moved from his ear to his neck, trailing kisses, and nibbled along the sensitive skin, fingers gripping the older's hips, possessively trapping him in his embrace.
Taehyung’s fingers brushed against the older's chest, eliciting a soft moan.
The younger male gently continued caressing the older's chest, fingers fondling with the perked n!pples, lips trailing gentle kisses down the older's naked torso.
He dipped his head to trail kisses along the older's hips bones, his lips moving against the sensitive flesh.
Yoongi let out a soft moan, his fingers gripping the sheets, as the younger continued his descent.
Taehyung's hands slid down the older's lithe body, before dipping his head down, settling between his parted legs, nipping and sucking at the smooth skin along the inner thighs, purposefully avoiding the core.
Yoongi squirmed, gasping as he let out a whine.
“Please, Tae”
Taehyung chuckled, his breath warm against the older's thigh.
“Patience, baby” he said, his voice low and sultry.
The younger continued trailing kisses, and nibbled up and down the older's pale skin, teasing him with every touch.
Yoongi whimpered, body arching up towards the younger's mouth.
“Please” he begged again, his voice ragged with need.
Taehyung's lips curled into a soft smile,fingers moving up to intertwine their hands, before he slid his fing€rs in, his own need mounting, as he teased the older.
He moved up the older's body, capturing his lips in a fierce kiss, his fingers curling in, to thru$t at a particular spot, that had the older whining against his lips.
Yoongi groaned into the younger's mouth, wrapping his arms around him, and pulling him closer.
The older nipped at Tae's lower lip, his tongue seeking entrance.
Taehyung growled softly, his hands tugging at the older's hair, causing him to gasp.
Taehyung deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into the older's mouth, exploring eagerly.
Yoongi moaned, arching up against the younger, as their bodies pressed together.
He ran his hands down the younger's back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath his touch.
Taehyung broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Fu¢k, baby ... I love you,” he whispered, his lips moving to the older's ear.
He nibbled at the earlobe, his teeth scraping at the sensitive flesh.
Yoongi let out a groan, his fingers digging into the younger's shoulder.
“I need you. Now”
And when Taehyung slid in, burying himself to the hilt, he whispered promises against the older's skin, apologising and reassuring, his touch - tender and possessive, all at once, Yoongi's heart felt content, warm and safe.
The world narrowed.
Breath.
Touch.
The soft press of being close enough, that nothing else mattered.
And when the moment finally stilled, when everything slowed and softened, Yoongi didn’t feel empty.
He felt full.
So, they let the night close around them gently, unhurried, wrapped in shared silence, that felt earned.
—------
Yoongi had always associated want with consequences.
Wanting meant weakness.
Wanting meant disappointment.
Wanting meant reaching out, and finding nothing there.
So when his body reacted before his mind did, leaning into Taehyung’s space, breathing him in, letting his hand rest where it felt natural, panic should have followed.
It didn’t.
What followed instead was – peace.
A stillness he hadn’t felt in years.
Taehyung wasn’t rushing him.
Wasn’t pulling. Wasn’t asking for more than Yoongi could give.
His presence was firm, steady, like an anchor, pressed into the ground beneath Yoongi’s feet.
‘I’m not being taken’, Yoongi realized.
‘I’m being held’.
That was the difference.
Every touch came with space to breathe.
Every pause felt intentional, like Taehyung was checking without asking…
Are you still here? Are you still choosing this?
And Yoongi was.
For the first time, desire didn’t feel like falling off a cliff.
It felt like stepping into warm water , slow, enveloping, inevitable.
When Taehyung’s voice dropped, calm and sure, it didn’t make Yoongi feel small.
It made him feel safe enough to soften.
Yoongi rested his forehead against Tae’s shoulder, eyes closing, letting himself exist there, not as a burden, not as a responsibility, not as someone who had to be strong.
Just… wanted.
And wanting back.
This time, Taehyung didn’t pull away.
And Yoongi didn’t want him to.
---
Yoongi woke later to warmth.
Not the fleeting kind.
The kind that stayed.
Taehyung was there, solid behind him, arm secure around his waist, like it belonged there.
Not possessive.
Protective.
Yoongi shifted slightly, half-expecting the tension to return….
The awkwardness, the regret.
Instead, Tae tightened his hold.
“You okay?” Tae asked quietly, voice still low, still steady.
Yoongi nodded against his chest. “Yeah.”
Tae pressed a kiss into his hair, not demanding, not claiming.
Just… present.
“I meant what I said,” Tae murmured.
“You don’t have to be strong here. I won’t let you fall.”
Yoongi’s throat tightened, but this time, it didn’t hurt.
He turned just enough to see Tae’s face, open, earnest, unapologetically there.
And Yoongi realized something terrifying, and beautiful, all at once.
He trusted him.
Not just with his body.
With his heart.
Yoongi reached for Tae’s hand, lacing their fingers together, grounding himself in the quiet proof of it.
“Stay,” he whispered, not a question, not a demand.
A choice.
Tae smiled softly, squeezing his hand.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
And for the first time, Yoongi believed it.
---