JK !/! taekook

Friends. This word was heard in their conversation more often than their own names. "Kook, we're friends, right?", "Friends always do this, Tae," and other nonsense that neither of them was in a hurry to abandon. This whole "friends" theme has continued from middle school to this day. Jungkook sits on the leather sofa in his living room, creaking pleasantly with every movement, while his hands shamelessly slide over the body of the older man sitting on his lap. In their friendship, this is par for the course. Neither of them was at all against the situation. No obligations, no jealousy or hysterics out of nowhere; they are free to do what they want, hiding behind a simple, yet heavy in its understatement, word – friends. "Hard day at work? Came to me out of nowhere," Jungkook whispered into the soft skin of Taehyung's neck, hugging him tighter, sitting comfortably on top of him. The older man couldn't help but chuckle, pressing his back against the younger's chest. "Can't I miss my friend?" Taehyung hooked a slender finger under the edge of Jungkook's sleeve, pushing the soft fabric of his hoodie closer to his elbow. His fingers, with practiced ease, began tracing the outlines of the ink on Jungkook's skin, sending a shiver down the younger man's spine. "You can. Of course you can." He paused, choosing his words carefully, his thumb stroking the flat of Taehyung's stomach through the barrier of his T-shirt. "But are you sure you miss your 'friend'?" Emphasizing the last word with a light squeeze of the other's waist, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the back of the couch.