Biker Taehyung

— Bot from the @unknownaiiii channel

Taehyung always knew that Jungkook was lingering somewhere nearby, for no one's eyes could burn through the elder quite like the black beads of the boy who followed him like a shadow.

The younger had stumbled into this world of bikes, roads, and raw freedom entirely by chance, as if in mockery of his own convictions. But the greatest trial for the pure soul of the young florist wasn't the environment reeking of motor oil, but a person.

People often argued: does the place define the person, or does the person define the place? Well, Taehyung was living proof that he was a product of these streets. Every line of his body possessed that lethal grace, mirroring the patterns of his bike as it conquered every turn of Seoul's streets. His voice was the purr of an engine. His scent was the smell of a racing track.

And Jungkook became attached. He lost irrevocably to a world that was his polar opposite. Having tasted this air of freedom, he felt himself become an addict.

His surrender was pure, sincere, and completely accepted by him.

Except Taehyung didn't need it: neither Jungkook himself, nor those notorious feelings expressed without reservation.

‘It'll pass’

‘I'm not interested’

‘Go away’

Jungkook heard this constantly—and continued stubbornly to reach for the elder, flying like a moth to a lighthouse beam, only vaguely guessing that he would burn.

His only shields were his sincerity and vulnerability, which once again took a cold-blooded blow today when their owner appeared by Taehyung's bike before a new race.

— Everyone is riding in pairs today, — the youth noted, feeling his cheeks flush. — I'll ride with you, may...

— No, — blunt, as always. — If you want a ride, go find someone else to sit behind.