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More often than not, Jungkook wakes up having forgotten his dreams entirely, or with a vague recollection of them that trickles away like sand between his fingers as he rolls out of bed. Occasionally, he’ll wake up with the distant outline of vague plots or people, but they’re blurred or almost faded into actual memories, and by the time he’s brushing his teeth, they’re already at the back of his mind, discarded thoughts and muted feelings. This time, he wakes with a jolt, chest heaving and fear rippling through with the vividness of a terrifying dream of sinister darkness and creeping shadows stalking closer and closer, and right before he gasps awake, a frigidly icy hand locking around his wrist.
He shoots upright in bed, fumbling the light on and then freezing, eyes wide as he raises a trembling wrist into the dim yellow shine of the lamp. There’s a dark grey ring around his wrist, like a stark shadow under his skin, the unmistakable marked skin of a dream curse. He drops back onto the bed, exhaling shakily. He doesn’t feel anything, not yet, so it isn’t a fast-acting curse, but he’s never been cursed before and feels panic prickling at the possibilities.
Namjoon had woken up shivering with a freezing curse before, and the curse-breaker task for his had been a complicated assortment of plants he’d had to burn in a special flame. By the time the seven of them had frantically gathered all the weird herbs and prickly weeds, Namjoon had been near frostbite, teeth chattering even coated in blankets and huddled in with all their combined body heat. Taehyung had once woken to an invisibility curse, which they hadn’t taken seriously enough until he’d screamed halfway through lunch, realizing his fingers were disappearing for him too and he couldn’t use his left hand anymore. His curse-breaker had been collecting very specific rocks from under a bridge halfway across town, and the seven of them had spent almost two full hours scouring the soil that night, phone flashlights scanning the ground through the darkness, face masks up and all fervently hoping this wasn’t what the media next reported on them. Jimin had once realized he was cursed halfway through a sleepy breakfast as he reached for the juice when Taehyung had gasped and pointed out the grey ring around his wrist. It was a silencing curse, and it would almost have been amusing a different day, but they’d had recording sessions in pairs and then as sub-units that day. They’d had to scramble to get the curse read by a friend of Namjoon’s who had crammed into the car with them and rode the way to the studio with his crystals to hastily decipher the curse-breaker. They’d discovered that it was Jimin casting a certain shadow at a certain angle, so it had been relatively easy to arrange for him to dash out to the parking lot when the sun was up that afternoon and restore his voice, the dark curse marking ring around his wrist vanishing and Jimin belting out a piercing note in his excitement.
So Jungkook wasn’t afraid of curses, necessarily, wasn’t overly panicked and knew they weren’t typically dangerous and could be read easily with a certain type of crystal to determine what their curse-breaker would be. But even with all that, Jungkook has never been cursed himself, and it sits uneasy with him in the aftermath of the frightening dream. And it’s better that they don’t have a busy schedule today so that he won’t inconvenience the group, just time set aside for each of their own songs and a rehearsal he isn’t technically required at. But they’d planned to have a movie night together for the first time in over two weeks, to take advantage of the lull in their jam-packed schedule, finally, and he doesn’t want to be the one to ruin that. He leans over to yank his phone from the bedside stand, unlocking it and wincing at the brightness he flicks down quickly. He bites his lip, considering. Hobi’s sister could help him read the curse, but she’ll definitely tell her brother, and Hoseok can’t keep anything hidden from Yoongi, and Yoongi will worry so he’ll tell Namjoon who’ll want to talk with the other members and Taehyung might cry again and Jin and Jimin will panic and it’ll just be a mess.
He knows how intensely they worry about their youngest, and they finally have a day with less to do, and he’s determined they get to fully enjoy it after all their hard work. If he can break this curse without them, he’ll just figure it out before tonight, and no one needs to know. He shoots Yeonjun a quick message to ask if his cousin can read him a curse in a few hours, sighing and rolling over on the bed to close his eyes. The dream curse woke him up too early, and if he can get a few more hours of sleep in, maybe it’ll help once whatever is going to start happening to him does. He tries not to think what his curse will be, if he’ll spend the morning only able to move one hand at a time or walk backwards or see in black and white, or something more terrible. It’s hard to fall back asleep, hyperaware of the dark ring around his wrist like a cold, unrelenting grip, dry and ominous.
When he lets himself quietly back into the dorm that afternoon, he leans against the wall for a moment, burying his face in his hands and sighing deeply. Yeonjun’s cousin was able to read the curse easily and quickly, and had sympathetically told him it was a draining curse, and would sap him slowly of his strength until he broke it. He already felt exhausted, way more than was warranted for how little he’d done at the company today, all with his long sleeve shirt carefully hiding any evidence of the marked skin of his wrist. But the curse isn’t why he’s covering his face and definitely not panicking or worrying or overthinking. No, the reason for that internal chaos is that this time, for all his terrible luck, the curse-breaker is the biggest cliche he’s ever heard, one he’d have laughed at if it hadn’t made his stomach flip unpleasantly and his heart stutter, when Yeonjun's cousin had quietly informed him. He presses his forehead against the wall, runs a hand warily through his hair, closes his eyes and exhales slowly. What does it mean for him that his curse-breaker is true love’s kiss?
As he creeps down the hallway to his bedroom and carefully closes the door, he thinks bitterly of the curse Yoongi had told them about, when he’d once woken up unable to speak without barking, and the curse-breaker task had been sitting in a cold river for twenty minutes. Jungkook throws himself onto his bed, covers his eyes with his forearm. He’d go sit in a freezing river all night every night for a week over even trying to think about true love’s kiss and who that could even be, who it was supposed to be. He doesn’t want to think about it at all, but he’s going to have to think fast, because the curse is draining him more quickly than he’d expected, and he can’t have his hyungs find out and ruin the night for them all. It’s not like he can hide it long. Jimin already has a sixth sense for when he’s feeling off, and Taehyung can definitely telepathically read Jimin's thoughts, and Hoseok will take one look at him and see the exhaustion on him somehow no matter how normally he carries himself, and Jin can probably read his mind and will know he’s hiding something, and Yoongi probably already knows because he knows everything all the time, and if Namjoon finds out... Jungkook groans, buries his face in his pillow.
Completely apart from how to get a kiss from one of his six hyungs, all of whom he’s deeply in love with and none of whom even think of him that way to love him back (which he steadily and resolutely doesn’t ever think about or cry about in the shower and certainly isn’t tearing up about now), he genuinely doesn’t know who this curse would even recognize as true love for him to kiss. And it’s not like he hasn’t kissed any of them before, because they’ve all kissed before, over the years, when they were bored or during truth or dare or in the euphoric rush after a concert or just in passing sometimes when it felt right. Even Taehyung and Jimin, who’ve been dating for two years now, are open and don’t mind messing around with the others sometimes. He knows some of his hyungs have slept together, and he’s pretty sure Hoseok and Yoongi still sleep together on a regular basis, but none of that is exclusive, and he could probably get a kiss if he really tried from one of the six but would that count? And could he even handle that kind of innocent, casual kiss anymore, with the intensity his feelings have grown to?
Because none of his innocent crushes are innocent or even crushes anymore, and he hasn’t slept with or even fooled around with any of the hyungs the way they have with each other, doesn’t think he could handle that kind of casual thing with the blinding force of his feelings. Not that it matters, since they don’t exactly offer anyway, and the thought makes him blink harder, chest thick and heavy, but he’s fine, he’s fine. It’s okay if they just love him platonically. He’s younger than them all, and maybe they saw him that way for too long, and it’s not like he doubts that they love him fiercely and wholly, because he doesn't at all. He just wishes it was more the way he loves them, his whole heart beating out of his chest for their smiles, their happiness, their love. But it makes sense that they don’t reciprocate, it’s fine. Even if sometimes, when they beam at him too softly, or lean against him without reason, or hug him too long, or check him out so obviously it doesn’t feel like a joke, he thinks maybe. Maybe.
He crushes that hopeless line of thought and rolls onto his back, frowning and rubbing his chest. He’d thought it was the heaviness of his thoughts, but there’s a thickness there that’s constricting and cloying and real. The curse shouldn’t be draining him this fast, he should have till the end of the day but if it’s already making it tiring to breathe, he’s going to have to get a kiss before the evening. He closes his eyes, fervently hoping true love’s kiss just has to entail his love, even if they don’t love him back, because he can’t consider the alternative. But who will it hurt the least from? Because it is going to hurt, he’s going to get his heart broken kissing someone he loves who doesn’t love him back, but maybe he can ease it. Maybe he can use this to finally confess, even if it’s just to one of them, just one.
He doesn’t want to trick any of his hyungs into a kiss, doesn’t want to make it a joke or make it casual or play it off. If he’s going to confess to any of them, he knows at his core that they’ll be kind about it, that they’ll be gentle with him, and that maybe if he’s let down softly, the fluttering that’s turned into a battering ram in his heart will ease every time he so much as thinks about one of them. But none of his hyungs hold a truer love than the others, so who does he kiss?
Namjoon was his first love, the first boy he ever fell for, love at first sight. Taehyung had been his first friend, had coaxed him out of his shell and helped him bloom. Jimin had always looked at him a bit differently and made him feel special, was always drawn to him just a bit more, might be the most likely to love him back. Hoseok was always sweet and available and soothing, and they brought out the happiness in each other whenever they were in each other's orbits. Yoongi had sent him a text earlier that morning that simply read “nice work I’m proud of you Gguk” that had almost made him burst into tears. Jin always took such good care of him and made sure he laughed and smiled when the days were long and exhausting.
Jungkook drifts into restless sleep still thinking, and when he startles himself awake, he realizes too much time has passed, because it’s far too late in the afternoon, almost evening. When he tries to get out of bed, he almost topples into the dresser. The curse is draining him worse, because he never sleeps like this during the day, and the weakness is thready and tugging when he pushes himself swaying to stand. He lets himself lean against the door as he slowly pushes it open, hearing the chatter of the members down the hall. Yoongi and Jin’s room is closest, and he leans heavily against the wall as he drags himself towards it, resolute that whoever he finds in there gets his confession, and his kiss.
He’s almost fully draped on the wall when he peers in, and of course, the room is empty. The other's bedrooms are past the hall, so his hyungs would see him cross, clinging to the wall like he can’t let go, and they’d know. He had so wanted to avoid doing this in front of everyone, but he screws his eyes shut and blows out a frustrated breath. It doesn’t seem like there’s another option anymore. He considers texting one of them, then realizes he left his phone on his bed. When he glances down the long hallway, it’s way more steps than he has in him to retrieve it. His legs feel unsteady as he hangs off the wall to peer around the corner into the living room.
He can see Jin and Yoongi’s heads over the back of the couch, hear Yoongi’s low murmur and Jin’s high distinctive laugh that brings an unconscious smile to his own lips. Taehyung and Hoseok are sprawled across the rug playing a video game, loud and raucous and gleeful. Namjoon and Jimin are at the dining table, leaning over a notebook in concentration, Jimin’s arm wound through Namjoon’s and head resting on his shoulder contently. The room is warm with the laughter and smiles of his hyungs, and his chest aches with the happiness of it.
But oh - that’s not the ache of his emotions, he realizes as his chest constricts again, and the next second his legs are giving out and he’s crashing to his knees. There are several cries of surprise that morph into alarm, and he whips his head up too fast, their expressions of concern swimming as his head spins suddenly. His limbs feel so heavy, his body so exhausted, and he wants to lay down, but there are several hands tugging him up instead, guiding him forwards as their voices note with fear how he stumbles and staggers. He’s lowered so gently onto the couch, legs lifted carefully onto it, and he blinks, dazed and tired and so drained. The six of them are standing over him and kneeling beside him and leaning over him, worried and demanding to know what happened. His other options are gone, and Jungkook sighs, closes his eyes, yanks back his sleeve.
He doesn’t open his eyes again until they’ve all gasped or made terrible worried sounds at the sight of the curse mark that’s only darkened around his wrist, bold and stark. He keeps his gaze firmly fixed on his own weakly flexing hands as he explains to them it’s just a drain, that it’s been draining him today, that he already got the curse-breaker task read and knows what it is. They hover impatiently and anxiously as he plays with his sleeve, avoids their eyes, blushes.
“And?” Yoongi demands. “What’s the curse-breaker for it?”
“It’s… umm…” Jungkook mumbles, as Taehyung bounces his leg anxiously.
“What, it’s something embarrassing?” Jimin asks incredulously.
“Jungkook, it’s draining you, look at you.” Jin says worriedly. “Just tell us and we can do it for you.”
Jungkook blushes deeply, darting a glance at them and then down again at his hands, at the grey-marked skin. “I don’t think…” Jungkook whispers, then clears his throat. “I’m… I don’t think I… can break it.” He dares a look up at them and flinches at their clear worry, Jimin and Taehyung clinging to each other, Namjoon warily perched on the armchair, Jin pacing nervously behind him as Yoongi and Hoseok crouch on the floor beside where Jungkook lays across the couch, hardly able to move a heavy limb.
“Jungkook, please.” Hoseok murmurs, reaching out to trace the grey skin around his wrist, a spark shivering through Jungkook. “Just say it, and we’ll make it happen, please. It’s already drained you too much, we have to break it now.”
Jungkook looks over his concerned hyungs again before squeezing his eyes shut, heart beginning to race as he blurts, hurried and anxious. “It’s true love’s kiss.”
There’s several sharp intakes of breath, and Jungkook can’t stand it, opens his eyes to see their wide-eyed expressions. Jimin and Taehyung are staring at each other, not at him, communicating something wordlessly, looking even more anxious. Yoongi’s cheeks are suddenly pink, as are Namjoon’s on the other side of the room. Jin is facing almost away, and Jungkook can’t see his face or Hoseok’s, whose head is now bowed, silent. Jungkook's hands begin to tremble in his lap, eyes prickling with tears because what had he expected, saying this to a room full of his true loves who all unquestionably love him deeply just… just not like he loves them.
Namjoon clears his throat, not looking at any of them, and his voice is uncharacteristically hesitant and meek. “What if… what if the person who kisses you is in love with you? Would… would that count even if you’re not in love with them too?”
The others are staring at Namjoon in shock, but Jungkook just tilts his head in confusion. “What?”
Namjoon shifts uncomfortably under all their gazes, takes a deep breath. “If… if it’s just that the person who kisses you has to be, um… if the person who kisses you just has to be in love with you then, um… then I could do it. I'm… I could kiss you.”
Jungkook’s jaw drops, none of the words processing even as Yoongi makes a strangled sound in his throat and Jin spins around and Taehyung and Jimin start forwards as if to say something, then stop. Jungkook himself is reeling. There's no way that… There's no way that he heard that right, that Namjoon could feel that way about him, there's no way that this... this confession can be real. But Jungkook's voice is breathless with ridiculous hope. “You… you’re saying you…”
Namjoon doesn’t move any closer, and his hands are held up assuringly even as his voice gets more muddled with panic. “I’m sorry, Kook-ah, that’s probably really uncomfortable for you, I’m sorry. I...”
Jungkook blinks, blinks again, opening and closing his mouth blankly, head unable to process any of this. Jin turns to grab at Namjoon’s hand, voice steadier and reassuring even with a note of something strange in his voice. “Hey, hey, no, it… it’s okay. It’s…” Jin swallows hard, looking away and then back. “Listen, we all want him to be okay, it… you...”
Taehyung and Jimin are having an urgent, hushed conversation, foreheads almost pressed together, and Yoongi and Hoseok are staring at the ground, hands now held tightly together as Namjoon shifts uncomfortably, looks up imploringly at Jin. “I don’t… I don’t know if it’ll work. It… it’s just me in love with him, not - not him, it might not count.”
Jungkook’s voice is strangled as he raises a weak hand. “That, um… that won’t be a problem.” Several of their heads whip around towards him, but he keeps his focus on Namjoon’s wide eyes, trying to will himself not to blush even as his face heats. “It’s… it’s not just you, hyung, I'm also… I'm... it should work.”
The room is silent for a long moment, and Jungkook’s breathing feels heavier, a pressure in his chest as he and Namjoon gaze at each other, eyes bright with emotions he can’t read, hardly daring to believe any of this is real, is happening.
Then Yoongi buries his face in Hoseok’s shoulder, muffling his voice. “Okay, just kiss him already. Look at him, he’s hurting. Just fix this and… and we can figure this all out after.”
Jin guides Namjoon forward encouragingly, and Yoongi and Hoseok move back as Taehyung and Jimin stare from behind them. Namjoon lowers himself to his knees beside the couch where Jungkook lays, leaning over him until their faces are so, so close, and Jungkook can feel his warm breaths, can see all the tiny flecks of colour in his eyes. He looks nervous, and Jungkook’s heart is pounding out of his chest as Namjoon quietly asks permission, as Jungkook nods as eagerly as the curse-exhaustion will allow.
Then Namjoon is smiling, a flash of dimples and a warm press of lips against his, and Jungkook gasps, eyes fluttering closed. Namjoon's already leaning back as Jungkook’s curse mark pulses on his wrist. He tries to push himself onto his elbows, to chase Namjoon’s bashful smile with his own, but with a heave of exertion, he falls back, arms weak and brittle. It’s like a rush of cold water, dousing the fluttering flames of warmth and impossible happiness flickering through his chest at the kiss. It didn’t work, it wasn't true love's kiss, the curse isn’t broken. But he felt the curse mark react, his wrist had pulsed, and he and Namjoon look down at it in confusion to see part of the ring has dissolved, but it’s still there, a charcoal grey band not quite meeting beneath Jungkook’s thumb.
“It… it didn’t work… does that mean…” Jungkook whispers, eyes filling again, but Namjoon’s voice is fervent when he interrupts, hand cupping Jungkook’s cheek softly but urgently.
“I am in love with you Jungkook. I’ve been in love with you. Whatever this is, it isn’t anything about that.”
“Actually,” Jimin speaks up timidly, Taehyung peeking out from behind him then looking away. “That might… be because of us.” Jungkook and Namjoon turn to look up at them, and Jimin rocks forward then back on his feet, tugging Taehyung to stand beside him by their linked hands. “We think… we…”
“We’re in love with Jungkookie too!” Taehyung blurts, eyes squeezed shut, and stumbles when Jimin shoves him with a hiss.
Jungkook chokes, staring up, mind whirling. This can’t be real, it can’t, for one of his hyungs to even reciprocate his feelings, but three? Sometimes he’d lay awake in bed wistfully thinking about what it would be like to have his overwhelming love returned even at a fraction of his own feelings, but he’d never dared to imagine it being from more than one, and for it to be them. Taehyung isn’t meeting his gaze, eyes darting around almost guiltily, and Jimin looks terrified, as if braced for a blow. Beside him, Namjoon sinks to sit back on the ground, hand running through his hair with a dazed expression then reaching up to brush against his lips, smiling.
“Kiss him.” Hoseok murmurs, and they all turn to look at where Yoongi is sitting stunned beside him, their hands white where they’re gripping each others. Hoseok turns to look at Taehyung and Jimin, something wild in his eyes. “Both of you, kiss him too. I think… I think maybe-”
But Yoongi shakes his head, eyes forbidding, and Hoseok falls silent. Jungkook frowns, confused, then inhales sharply when Jimin steps forward, tugging Taehyung along, both kneeling beside him where Namjoon had, eyes beseeching, asking permission.
Jungkook nods fervently, heart galloping in his chest, unable to believe this. “It’ll - it’ll work.” Jungkook manages, mouth dry. “I… I do too, I - both of you, I’m - me too, hyungs.”
The joy in Jimin’s shining eyes is dazzling, and Taehyung beams in delight behind him. Jimin leans forward to take Jungkook’s hand, eyes curving into crescents with how brightly he’s smiling. The press of Jimin’s soft lips is gentle and hardly there but sends an explosion of warmth through his chest. Jungkook’s heart is soaring, cascading with the happiness of it as Taehyung leans around Jimin with sparkling eyes and ducks in to kiss him, longer and a bit harder and thrumming through Jungkook’s entire body. Jungkook exhales, unsteady, then raises his hand, seven pairs of eyes locked onto the grey ring that pulses, fades - but not completely. It’s still there along the underside of his wrist, dark and draining.
They’re silent for a moment, blinking in shock, before their heads all turn to Jin, Yoongi, and Hoseok, who look up like deer caught in headlights.
Hoseok is grinning embarrassedly. “Um, yeah. So…”
Jimin laughs disbelievingly, Namjoon grinning beside him. “Wait, really? All of us? Every single one?”
Yoongi nods where he’s buried his face in Hoseok’s chest, back of his neck pink, and Jin runs a flustered hand through his hair before he mumbles. “Yeah, it… it’s all of us.”
Jungkook’s head is spinning, and there’s a complicated chaos of feelings rattling through his mind, and the ghost of three lips pressing against his, and the echoes and beginnings of a wild, bewildered happiness threatening to burst out of him. Taehyung whirls to face Jimin, grabbing his hands, eyes dancing with joy. “It’s all of us! It’s all of us after all! You said - you said and I - we always wanted-”
“I told you, hyung, I said Taehyung and Jimin at least-” Hoseok is saying smugly into Yoongi's hair.
Jungkook’s head is spinning, and the whirlwind of emotions in his chest feel enormous but his voice is so small. “Is… is this real, hyung?” He isn’t certain who he’s even asking, but he doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand how or when or how, but they’re all crawling towards him and sinking down around his prone body, warm and almost as disbelieving and stunned with happiness.
“It’s real.” Jin says quietly, eyes looking suspiciously wet as he blinks down at him, a hand softly brushing his ankle. “We love you, Gguk-ah. We’re…” He looks around the room, smile splitting his face. “We’re in love with you. All of us.”
They all coo at the tears that spill over then, press forward to thumb them gently off Jungkook’s cheeks and run hands softly through his hair and carefully hold his hands, press kisses to his forehead. He blinks away the tears, tries to collect himself, then tugs weakly at Hoseok’s shirt where he sits beside his hip on the couch.
“Hobi-hyung,” Jungkook whines quietly, and Hoseok grins. “I… please.”
Hoseok looks fondly down at him, then leans over to press their lips together, smiling against his mouth, and Jungkook sighs at the burst of warmth and happiness as his wrist tingles, clears the slightest bit more. Then Yoongi’s hand cards through his hair as he shifts forward to take Hoseok’s place, and Jungkook just has time to note the gleam in his cat-like eyes before Yoongi’s long fingers are suddenly fisting in Jungkook’s hair, tipping his head back as Yoongi licks into Jungkook’s mouth, hot and demanding, and Jungkook gasps, curls his toes, arches into it, stomach pulsing with heat. Hoseok yanks Yoongi away huffing exasperatedly, and Jungkook’s entire face is burning, lips tingling and body all too aware
“You’re all just jealous.” Yoongi smirks as they scowl and tug him back from the couch.
“I am.” Jimin’s voice is low, eyes dark as they bear down on Jungkook, and he can’t help his shiver, a pulse of heat and want.
“Hey, hey, let’s break this curse first.” Jin chides, sinking down beside Jungkook and so gently running a hand down his arm to stroke his wrist just above the marked skin. The others crowd over his shoulder as he smiles down at Jungkook, leaning down teasingly slowly and pausing just out of reach, waiting until Jungkook whines to press a kiss to his pout, a soft hand on his cheek. When Jin leans back, they all lean forward over Jungkook, anxious and waiting. His wrist tingles, pulses, and the grey ripples and then fades, unmarked skin as if it had never been there at all.
The surge of strength floods through Jungkook, pure energy and power, head clear and chest full to bursting, and he leaps up, winds his arms around Jin’s neck, and kisses him deeply. Jin stumbles back, dazed, and Jungkook laughs wildly, throws himself back in a cartwheel, then forward in one, reveling at the return of his energy, his strength. A hand latches onto his wrist as he rises, then Jimin is yanking Jungkook against him, strong arm winding around his small waist to press them together and lips hungry against his, kissing him breathless. Jimin mouths down his jaw as Jungkook gasps, entire body pulsing with want. Then Jimin sinks his teeth into Jungkook’s neck, and Jungkook whimpers, loudly. Everything in the room seems to still, and the six pairs of eyes that lock onto him are dark, hungry, devouring as Jungkook shivers, still panting, dazed.
Taehyung’s grip locks around his wrist where a curse mark no longer lurks under the skin, and he drags Jungkook forward, voice hoarse. “We - we need to move this - bedroom.” There are stunned, feverish nods, but Namjoon holds up a hand, voice uncertain despite the desire in his eyes.
“Wait, we - Jungkook?” His voice is serious and careful, and Jungkook loves him so fiercely for how considerate he is, as Namjoon goes on deliberately. “Consent first. Would you want-”
“Yes. Hell yes.” Jungkook interrupts, breathless and needy. Yoongi and Jin are exchanging a look beside him, and Jungkook pouts, the way he knows none of them can resist. “You have my consent, all of it, haven’t I waited long enough?”
“Like we haven’t.” Yoongi mutters, but his eyes are glinting dangerously.
Jimin’s grip tightens around his waist, possessive. “Your consent to-”
“Ravage me, hyungs.” Jungkook whispers.
There are several sharp inhales and a growl, then Jungkook laughs breathlessly as more hot hands latch hungrily onto him, tugging at his clothes and snaking under his shirt and yanking him along down the hall.
Jungkook doesn’t remember his dream when he wakes the next morning, no curse-marked grey skin but plenty of dark, tender marks littering his bare chest and even more scattered across his skin under the sheets where he'd gasped and writhed. There’s no draining sensation in his chest, just an exhilarating, sated exhaustion weighing him onto the mattress he'd been so deeply pressed into over and over, and the endless expanses of golden skin of his six true loves sprawled warmly across him. True love’s kiss, true loves’ kisses, over and over and over, today and tomorrow and forever. He tilts his head back, closes his eyes, and smiles.