While Taehyung struggles with his pants, Jungkook stands up and turns to tend to the fire. Again, without any warning to his precious peace of mind, the man pulls off his ski pants, revealing two, devastating facts.

One, the vest that he is wearing is, in fact, a crop top that leaves the whole of his incredibly lithe and fit waist on show. Two, he is only wearing a pair of grey shorts, cut up from sweatpants, and they hang low, revealing miles of muscled, toned to perfection legs.

I'm so fucked. So, so fucked. Repeats in Taehyung's mind, endlessly.

At least Jungkook has the decency to look a little flushed.

"I'm sorry about the clothes, I came straight from practice and didn't have time to get changed... I might have something more appropriate in the car..." He scratches his temple, head tilting in an adorable angle while his fingers tug at the hem of the crop top down, to no avail.

"You dance?" The question slips out before Taehyung can stop himself. He regrets his aberrant curiosity when the sculpted, tattooed arms lift gracefully above the dark head of hair and Jungkook lifts onto his toes, his whole figure suddenly a picture of a perfect ballet dancer in pose. Strength. Grace. Elegance.

When he twirls around and faces Taehyung again, he nearly chokes on his spit. The candles between them highlight the subtle shadow of a trail pointing down from his perfect belly button, down, down, all the way down and past the edge of the grey fabric, just screaming at him to go and lick at the soft-looking skin... and pull those loose shorts down.

"Yes, I do, Mr Kim... Taehyung..."

He realises his mouth is open. His jaw slams shut when the bemused gaze searches his eyes. With the sensual lilt in Jungkook's voice, all sense in Taehyung's mind threatens to disappear, replaced by wicked daydreams. He forces himself to look away, sighing wistfully while reminding himself of the reality that is his life.

This is not going to happen, Taehyung is not young or foolish enough to throw away his whole life on a stupid whim, a moment's temptation. But his mouth dries at the sight of the dancer in front of him, despite his words, despite his commitment. He pulls himself together at the last moment.

"You have a beautiful body, incredibly graceful, it's not hard to look at. Please don't worry on my account." He swallows and pulls an extra cushion to casually cover his front, feeling extra stupid with his ski pants still bunched up at his ankles.

"Oh, let me help you with that."

Jungkook points at Taehyung's sad attempt at pant removal. He just waves a hand in resistance – a little violently, he can't deal with the dancer coming any closer.

"No, it's okay, really, it's fine."

"It must be uncomfortable, let me help you. I promise I'll be gentle," Jungkook says, smiling, all innocent, like he isn't the most perfect specimen of a man, standing half-naked in front of Taehyung – who hasn't been touched for years.

In fact, he is so touched-starved he could cry and this picture of perfection just picks up his foot without any idea what kind of an avalanche of emotion he is causing inside him with his tender, warm hands that touch him like he's something... precious.

Taehyung wants to ask him, scream at him to stop touching him, but how could he, after everything that has already happened, now confess that there is absolutely nothing wrong with his ankle?

The bunched up fabric comes off easily, Taehyung has enough brains to make a little hissing noise when Jungkook pulls away the fabric over his supposedly sore ankle. After that, his brain short-circuits because of the way the dark eyes darken even more when they flick across his naked legs. His head falls back, resting over the arm rest of the couch while he tries to breathe. He feels dizzy when the tender fingers move around the ankle and up the leg over the long tendons at the back. For a moment Taehyung forgets where he is and who he is, what he should be afraid of.

He only remembers when Jungkook's words bring him back. "Does any of that hurt?"

"Ah... uh- erm yes! Ow!' Taehyung yanks his foot away, clinging onto his cushion like it's a life raft. "Gosh, the fire sure packs a punch, huh?" He cups his own cheek with a hand, fanning with the other, grateful when the cool of his fingers brings down the heat burning on his flesh.

He blames the fire, but they both know that he would be just as flustered, fire or no fire, as long as Jungkook were touching him.

At the sight of the flustered Mr Kim, Jungkook turns away enough to hide his grin. I've got him.

"I'm hardly a specialist, but I've had quite a bit of training in sprains and injuries, just from working out..." Stubborn, his hand reaches for the foot again and starts taking the sock off. Taehyung shoots up into a sitting position in a second.

"Please. Leave it on... I'm ticklish." He squirms. It's not exactly a lie but it's not the real reason either... the thought of having skin on skin is just too much.

"Are you now?" Jungkook grins like he's just been handed the keys to the kingdom. "I guess you'd better behave then..."

Now that, is definitely a flirt if Taehyung has ever heard one. Instantly, heat pools deep in his belly when the dark eyes stare at him while fingers fondle his foot and ankle softly, looking for an injury that isn't there.

"I'm sorry, but you will have to take the sock off after I'm done, if you'll get swollen, it might become a problem.

Already swollen, just not in my damned ankle, Taehyung thinks to himself, grabbing at the cushion covering his nether regions, casually checking it's hiding what it's supposed to be hiding. At least he has the sense to fake vague discomfort so that the inspection stops and the ski instructor wraps the ice loosely around his ankle.

"We might as well use it since it's all going to melt anyway...' Jungkook mutters and all Taehyung can think of are all the other, glorious things one could do with ice, given the opportunity... He sighs deeply at the thought and stiffens when he realises Jungkook is staring at him. He forces his teeth to let go of the plump lip when the dark eyes drop down to it.

Remember who you are. Breathe. Remember who you are.

Helpless, his eyes drop down to the deep groove in the middle of Jungkook's chest when he leans closer. There is a clear outline of a perky pair of nipples pressing against the thin fabric over the perfect mounds of his pecs. Taehyung blinks, mouth like a desert.

"Are you hungry?" Jungkook asks, out of nowhere, and the only thing Taehyung can think about is sinking his teeth on those glorious cushions of flesh.

"I could eat." Anything to remove the vision of that body out of this room, even for one minute. Please.

The second his biggest distraction disappears, Taehyung jumps up off the couch and starts pacing around the room, frustrated fingers tangling into his hair.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck!" He is too deep in his panic to think straight, or to consider what might happen if he is caught walking around because Jungkook is, by far, the biggest temptation to come his way since the day he accepted his stupid agreement and got married – on paper. He loves his job, he really does but... the utter loneliness that comes with it and his fake relationship, is hard to bear. The arrangement is unfair, not a day goes by that he doesn't think that. Not a day goes by that he doesn't... yearn and now...

In the kitchen, Jungkook leans against the fridge door, finally able to breathe in the safety of another room, away from Taehyung. His head falls back against the metal and he sighs, equally tempted and guilty.

Nothing is going to give him the redemption he needs, not even the tremendous amount of lust bubbling inside him, guilt still burns bright, too bright to ignore. Taehyung is such a nice guy, he really doesn't deserve his life being ruined by some nameless criminals.

But that's not even the biggest problem right now. In this moment, Jungkook's biggest issue is that he really, really likes, no, he wants the guy whose life he is supposed to destroy. The urge to kiss the man is a staggering need inside him and he knows if they'll kiss, there is no way he will be able to stop there... He's not supposed to enjoy this, he's not supposed to want it... because if he allows himself to get attached, even a little bit, the whole thing is going to backfire, big time.

Jungkook reminds himself there is no other choice, if he wants to carry on with his own ambitions. He sighs, fingers tangling in his hair. All he can do is carry on with the plan.

Turning to the fridge, he ignores the complaints of his heart. His conscientious ski instructor brain makes an appearance briefly when it occurs to him that he has no idea what Taehyung might want to eat, what if he has allergies, or he's a vegetarian?

He heads back to check but the sight of Taehyung pacing back and forth in the room stops him in his tracks, still in the shadows of the narrow corridor between the two rooms. The man's ankle is clearly perfectly alright! Embarrassed anger floods his mind, how dare this man con him like this?!

Oh. As if he has any right to be angry...

The annoyance quickly turns into a determination in his mind, Jungkook steps back into the kitchen, unseen.

"Fine, let's play, Mister Kim."

The gloves are coming off, now.

"Hey, are you okay with meat?" He calls over, making sure to keep his voice cheerful. He can't help but to chuckle at the sound of a body landing back on the couch with urgency.

"Y-yeah, meat is good, I love meat!" An unusually high pitch voice speaks back and Jungkook knows he's got the CEO where he wants him: flustered.

He takes his time arranging a smorgasbord of finger foods, crackers, meats, cheeses, wraps, sauces, a few side dishes. When he gets back, Taehyung lies on the couch as if he's never left, but the blanket is now covering the glorious legs Jungkook got a glimpse of earlier, much to his disappointment.

But something else has changed, too. He nearly drops the plates he's holding when he realises that whatever Taehyung has been doing while he was away, has completely rearranged his hair – it's now a beautiful, golden cascade that frames his face into an almost delightful innocence, softness and vulnerability which is totally unexpected. There's no big, intimidating CEO in sight.

He tries to hide his grin while taking his time to arrange the food on the ottoman because Taehyung is clearly nervous, it practically radiates from the couch. He is so obviously trying not to look at him, it's cute, really.

"How's the ankle?" He glances at the ice, melting on the side of the couch. "You know it's only going to help if it's actually touching you?" Jungkook adds, smiling. At least Taehyung has the decency to look sheepish.

"I-it's feeling much better now, honestly. Thank you," Taehyung stutters, eyes flicking away.

"Let me see."

The dark eyes widen in clear panic, but Jungkook decides to push a little, the attraction between them is obvious and now, he is fully determined to take advantage of it, whichever way possible. He just needs a little bit more... skin... he pulls the blanket away from the feet, despite the slender hands flailing in pitiful resistance.

He hesitates, pretending absentmindedness and to his delight, he sees a flash of doubt on the beautiful face before a long finger points at the right foot, the same as before.

Jungkook is done playing, it's time to get serious. He slides onto the couch, facing the bundle of tension, and without warning, he grabs the "injured" foot and sets it over his crotch, close to his barely slumbering cock. Too close. He's supposed to be teasing Taehyung, not himself.

He works on the foot with practiced ease, bending the leg at the knee, he brings it closer to his face, with the toes pointing to the ceiling. Really taking his time, he slides the thumbs along the base of the foot in long, gentle strokes, then in persistent, circular movements, massaging with determination. The longer he carries on, the darker the red on the CEO's cheeks gets, until, all of a sudden, the eyelashes flutter and the head falls back against the armrest in breathless surrender.

Jungkook can't look away, not even for a moment. His eyes trace every single sinew and muscle on the long neck stretching back, taking in the graceful chin, the perfect jawline, he wants to run his fingers along all of it – a violent urge to rip the turtle neck off so he can taste the sun-soaked flesh with his mouth, along the collarbones, lower, bursts inside him like a flame. He wants, he needs to hear the noises Taehyung makes when he whines under him in desperation. The need to see the big CEO reduced into a mess because of him – and only him – is like a compulsion singing loudly inside him.

A twitch in his pants pulls him back out of his fantasies. It's too soon.

The first move has to come from Taehyung, it's the only way this is going to work, it's the only way he's going to know Jungkook is not the threat that he actually is.

But the unexpected question from the flustered CEO on the couch throws Jungkook off his game completely.

"Do you dance for a company?" Taehyung asks, desperately clawing together his melting self, to sound as professional as possible, despite the warm hands doing their magic at his foot. When a shadow crosses the thus-far happy face, he regrets the question, wondering if he's overstepped some invisible line. All he sees in the wide eyes is unfulfilled dreams and a hint of sadness. "I'm sorry, I'm prying."

"No, not at all, I didn't get in this time, I'll still have another chance at the open auditions later on in the year, I'm not done yet." The smile doesn't quite touch the beautiful eyes but Taehyung can hear the determination behind the soft words.

"I'm sure you'll do well," he tries.

"You haven't even seen me dance," Jungkook mutters, pouting a little.

"Call it a hunch. I've been told, I'm highly reliable when it comes to hunches..." he smiles, despite himself. When Jungkook returns it, with a genuine smile this time, it brings back the happy crinkles around the corners of his eyes and suddenly, there is a warm, fluttery feeling inside Taehyung, one he doesn't quite recognise.

A feeling of panic quickly taints the warmth when he realises that the feeling is, in fact, a deep, comfortable desire to be there for Jungkook, to be that person to cheer him on. Immediately, he turns his gaze onto the wall above the fire, anywhere but toward the dancer.

To Taehyung's horror, it doesn't help – nothing helps – no matter what he tries to think about, he cannot shake the affectionate, warm thoughts, nor the thoughts of a much darker variety... like how the man might taste on his tongue, how his hands would feel all over him... he can't cleanse his mind of Jungkook nor his want for the man... it's like he is saturated with him and powerless to stop it.

As his final attempt at putting distance between them, he pulls away and sits up, firmly setting his foot where it's nice and safe: on the floor.

Jungkook has other ideas.

"It's really important you keep your foot up... let me help you eat." He doesn't allow Taehyung to build any kind of distance between them. In fact, it gives him a twisted sense of satisfaction when he sees the CEO struggle, unable to resist, purely because saying so would reveal how he has made up his whole ailment.

"Oh, really, it's fine." He looks at the food, his stomach rumbles loudly.

"No. I insist." Jungkook smiles and grabs the slender feet and lifts them back onto the couch, playing the guilt card. "They'll fire me if they find out I didn't do the right thing, Mr Kim..." Emotional blackmail is definitely not beneath Jungkook, not anymore.

The wide eyes stare at him, he can almost see the thoughts swirling behind them, the fear, the temptation and he wants Taehyung to give in, for so many more reasons than he really should want it.

"But there's nothing wrong with my hands..." Grumbling under his breath, Taehyung agrees without knowing he is softly being pushed toward seduction, one step at a time.

Jungkook has a cunning plan.

He has been purposefully sneaky with choosing all the foods – they are all messy and somewhat difficult to eat, so with every handful, he ends up feeding Taehyung and often, his fingers end up playing around the soft lips, even pushing partly into the mouth, without doing anything other than focusing on feeding.

It's a slow, messy, sensual affair, by the end of which Taehyung is in pieces, both mentally, and physically. He has food all over his face, his mouth and his turtle neck is covered in bits of food.

"Oh, goodness, I'm a mess," he says, feeling a little... drunk after all the touching. The temptation to lick at the fingers pushing into his mouth has been overwhelming. The way Jungkook is staring at him right now, with those damn dark eyes, Taehyung wants him to lick it all off his lips.

He has to stay strong and do something before he just falls into the gorgeous man who is sitting too close, always too close, always touching. He stands up, abruptly, wanting to do something about his clothes... to do anything other than just stare and want.

He bites down on the hiss that threatens to escape when Jungkook rushes to help him and in all the fumbling... Taehyung's hand falls on the dancer's naked waist for support. It's all silky skin covering ruthless muscle, not an ounce of fat anywhere, just impressive strength, right at his fingertips, literally.

It takes everything in him to fight the urge to touch more, to stop himself from yanking that surprisingly soft-looking bud of a mouth against his. For the longest of moments, they just stand, staring at each other like nothing else in the world exists.

A smooth, flat hand settles on the small of Taehyung's back, causing a wave of warmth to billow all over his body.

It's a hand with too much confidence for such a young man, with too much knowledge and ease in not only handling himself but also others... the small move is enough for Taehyung to realise that Jungkook is used to being in control and that thought shifts everything inside him... something collapses at the knowledge.

With the realisation, the rest of his thoughts trip over themselves because Taehyung somehow knows that Jungkook is everything he could have ever wanted in a man and he can't have him. His throat tightens at the feeling and suddenly, there is a completely unexpected, unreasonable sob at the thought building inside him, fighting its way out.

He can't be here, not with Jungkook, what was he thinking?

He forgets everything in his panic and turns to run. But the arm doesn't let him go, it yanks him close and in the scuffle, the nose of the most dangerous person, Taehyung's biggest temptation, sinks into the hairline behind his ear, the whole glorious dancer's body aligning with his, head to toe, right behind him. An embrace from behind. His starved body and heart have a field day with that, breathing every nanosecond in like it's fuel to live on.

"Your ankle, Taehyung! What are you doing?" The voice is so soft in his ear, it would be so easy to imagine affectionate words instead...

Taehyung tries to breathe, tries his hardest to calm down. Remember who you are. The truth screams under his skin, demanding release, but he can't.

"I-I wasn't thinking... h-how silly of me. I just need to do something about this mess..." His hands wave at his front without direction, tears burning too close to release under his eyelids.

For a few blissful seconds, the strong arm stays, then Jungkook shifts and simply lifts him into his arms again... As if the whole of Taehyung's existence hadn't just shifted on its axis.

He is careful not to look at the dancer, but he can't avoid the smile so obvious in the playful words.

"Now that, I can arrange. At your service, Sir," Jungkook says, in what has to be his most seductive tone, and the words lick, tempting, all the way down Taehyung's spine.

In all honesty, there is not enough brain power left in his head to pretend convincingly – all he needs is to get to the bathroom before he does something stupid. Taehyung tells himself it's just to make it more comfortable for Jungkook when he wraps an arm around the broad shoulders. He can feel the muscles ripple under the soft fabric of the top and his mouth dries.

"Are you okay?" The soft voice right at his ear does not help, not one bit. Taehyung nods, wordless, too much feeling billowing inside him while he is being carried in the safe arms of a virtual stranger into the darkness.

Taehyung doesn't even see the all-white bathroom when he sets the single candle Jungkook brought for him on the corner of the sink. The very second the door closes behind him, he rips his remaining clothes off without care, as if they were suffocating him. In the privacy of the small, fully tiled space, he takes a moment to focus, sprinkling some cold water onto the red face that stares back at him from the mirror.

He tries to rein in the torrent of emotions by focusing on anything but Jungkook, but it's useless, the man is everywhere, on his skin, in his mind.

As a final resort, Taehyung even wonders if he could just lock himself here for a couple of days, until they are rescued – only to realise he's truly gone when his mind gives into the temptation on his behalf when it presents him with filthy daydreams of a topless Jungkook kicking in the door of the bathroom, forcing his way in to ravish him, whether he agrees to it, or not.

He's positively lost it.

"This is what happens when you don't get your needs met!" he hisses at his reflection.

Naked, he leans over, trying to see deeper into the dark eyes staring right back. He gives himself a hard stare.

"What the hell are you doing, you idiot?"

As if looking at himself from afar, Taehyung takes in the flushed cheeks, the glossy eyes and reluctantly admits to himself that he does not recall the last time he looked this... alive. He can't remember a time he would have felt this alive, either.