Chapter 53 || BOUND AND TORN BY PROPHECIES
The Pillow That Moaned
Sunlight crept in through the gossamer curtains of
Jungkook’s chambers, washing the room in warm, golden light. The hush of
morning settled gently around him, and for once, he was completely at ease.
His arms were wrapped around his pillow, face buried in the
soft, comforting warmth of it. But... why did it feel... different?
His brows furrowed in his sleep. This pillow was warm,
sure—but not feather-soft. In fact, it was smooth. And firm. Like... skin?
Still half-asleep, he shifted slightly, his fingers brushing
over the surface again. Definitely skin. Warm, slightly cool from the morning
air, and— His fingers caught on something.
Small.
Round.
Soft but not quite. What in the realm?
Confused, he furrowed his brow, his sleepy mind trying to
place the object now between his fingers. It was no button. No brooch. And it
was definitely attached to his pillow. His fingers twitched. Out of sheer
curiosity—or perhaps still caught in the haze of dreaming—he gave it a gentle
tug.
A sharp inhale was followed by a low, very human “Shit—!”
Jungkook froze. His eyes flew open, pupils dilating in panic
as his vision focused—and he screamed.
Loud. High. And scandalized.
He scrambled back, clutching the blanket to his chest as if
it were a shield, his face burning so hot it could’ve melted the castle walls.
“YOU’RE NOT A PILLOW!!”
The man—no, the very naked man—half-lounging in his bed,
slowly blinked one eye open.
Taehyung. Naked. In his bed.
His bare chest gleamed in the golden light, lean muscles
flexing lazily as he rolled slightly to look at Jungkook with maddening
calmness. His black hair was tousled like he'd just risen from a dream, and his
lower body—thank every holy celestial star—was at least mostly covered with a
twisted sheet that barely held on to decency.
And the little cherry-sized... thing he’d tugged?
Yeah. That had been his nipple. He had pulled Taehyung’s
nipple like it was some mystery artifact lodged into his bedsheets. Mortified,
he turned his face away and covered his eyes with both hands.
“You—what are—why are—how are you even here?! Naked?! In my
bed?!”
A deep, utterly unbothered voice hummed, “Good morning to
you too, Guardian mommy.”
He peeked through his fingers, only to find him smirking.
Smirking. The man had the audacity to look like sinful sunrise, his lips curved
in that infuriating, knowing way, the sheet dangerously low on his hips.
“I swear to the skies, Taehyung—what kind of depraved
creature sneaks into someone’s bed naked?! Do you have no shame?!”
He raised a brow and reached one arm behind his head, the
movement making his torso stretch, revealing more glorious skin and leaving
Jungkook nearly choking on air.
“I wasn’t naked when I came in; I had a cloth wrapped on my
lower half after shifting back,” he said with a faint yawn, as if they were
discussing the weather. “But you pull the blanket enough times in your sleep,
it also… got pulled off me… by you, I guess.”
“W-What?......Shift?! SH—Shift yourself out of this room
RIGHT NOW!”
He tried to grab the extra pillow and throw it at him, but
Taehyung didn’t flinch. He just caught it in midair, placing it calmly behind
his head.
“Mm. You were cold. Hugged me all night. And I was just a
kid who wanted to spend time with his mommy.”
“You are not a kid, and I thought you were a pillow!” he
shouted in anger and irritation.
Taehyung chuckled softly. “A very well-built one, actually.”
He buried his burning face into his hands again. This was a
dream. This had to be a dream. A ridiculous, humiliating dream where he had
unknowingly spooned a grown man who used to be his foster son but now had the
body of a demigod and the shamelessness of a dragon in heat.
And worse he—enjoyed it.
Wait— Had he been drooling on his chest?! He glanced down.
There was moisture.
Taehyung was smirking harder now. His soul left his body. He
clutched the sheet to his chest like a lifeline.
“Taehyung. Out. Now. I mean it.”
He sat up slowly, muscles rippling, silver strands falling
across his cheekbones. He stretched like a predator too comfortable in the den.
“You’re the one who kept saying ‘just some more time’ and
pulling me closer.”
“I WAS ASLEEP!”
“And oddly affectionate.”
“You—!”
He stood, still with the sheet low on his hips, and leaned
close enough for Jungkook to smell the faint scent of night wind and sun-warmed
skin.
“You’re lucky I’m a gentleman,” he whispered, voice like
velvet draped over fire. “Because you have no idea what you did to me last
night.”
Jungkook opened his mouth and then promptly closed it
because words no longer existed in his vocabulary. His brain had turned to
mist.
Taehyung straightened, lips brushing just beside his ear,
and murmured,
“Next time, if you want to touch me there again… maybe ask
first… mommy.”
His hand shot out and smacked Taehyung’s arm. Taehyung
laughed—actually laughed—as he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Jungkook
a trembling mess of blankets, sweat, and shame.
He groaned into his pillow. “I’m going to kill him.”
But even as he buried his face, the ghost of Taehyung’s
warmth lingered against his skin.
And that terrifying, shameful truth?
He didn’t really want him gone.
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