Velvet Heat

Scene: Velvet Heat

The grand dining room of the mansion glowed with candlelight. Gold plates, crystal glasses, and blood-red wine filled the table — but the real spectacle sat at the center, cross-legged on the polished mahogany, wearing silk shorts and one of Namjoon’s button-ups, unbuttoned too far.

Taehyung.

He dangled a grape between his fingers, smirking at the six pairs of eyes locked on him.

“You’re late,” Namjoon said, voice smooth but laced with warning.

Taehyung popped the grape into his mouth slowly. “I was busy.”

“With who?” growled Jungkook, jaw tight. He hadn’t touched his drink.

Taehyung tilted his head, lips glistening. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Jimin chuckled softly. “He’s baiting you, baby. Don’t bite.”

Yoongi said nothing, but his eyes didn’t leave Tae for a second — sharp, unreadable, like he was deciding whether to kiss him or kill him.

Hoseok slammed his knife down. “Get off the table, Tae.”

Taehyung smiled wider. “Make me.”

Namjoon stood, slow and calm. Everyone went still.

“Tae. Down. Now.”

And that was the thing — even when he was brattiest, Taehyung obeyed Namjoon. He slid off the table, but deliberately brushed past Hoseok and let his fingers trail down Jimin’s chest on the way.

“Such a little tease,” Jimin purred, catching his wrist. “Do you even know what you’re doing to us?”

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Taehyung whispered, eyes flicking from brother to brother. “You all want me. And I’m the only one who gets to choose who I’ll spend the night with.”

That did it.

Chairs scraped. Wine was spilled. Jungkook was already crossing the room. Hoseok looked ready to throw him over the table. Seokjin leaned back, sipping his wine like he was watching a show — but his eyes were dark with hunger.

Namjoon only said one thing, voice like a command laced in velvet:

“Then choose wisely, baby. Because the others will be watching.”

Silence wrapped the room like silk stretched thin.

Taehyung stood in the center of their desire, eyes glittering, knowing exactly the storm he was about to start.

He stepped toward Jimin first — fingers grazing his jaw.

“Mm, tempting,” he whispered, lips brushing his cheek. “But too easy.”

Jimin’s smirk twitched. “You’ll come back crawling later.”

Then Taehyung turned to Hoseok — eyes locked, breaths tense. He trailed his fingers down Hoseok’s chest slowly, devilishly, then leaned in, lips barely touching his neck.

“But you’re still mad I stole your favorite knife, aren’t you?”

“You’re pushing it,” Hoseok growled low.

“I know.”

He passed Yoongi next — but didn’t stop. Just let their shoulders brush. That was all it took for Yoongi to curl his fingers into a fist under the table.

Finally, Taehyung stopped in front of Jungkook.

Their eyes met.

Jungkook looked like a soldier on the edge of war — desperate, furious, craving.

“Say my name,” Jungkook said, voice tight.

Taehyung leaned close… lips nearly touching his. “Not tonight, Kookie.”

And then — he turned.

Walked slowly across the room… and slid onto Namjoon’s lap like he belonged there.

“You,” Taehyung purred, wrapping his arms around his oldest brother’s neck, “You get me tonight.”

Namjoon didn’t smile. He didn’t even blink. He just wrapped one hand around Taehyung’s waist, the other resting low on his thigh, and said:

“You never had a choice, baby. You were always mine.”

The sound of glass shattering behind them was unmistakably Jungkook’s wine.

“Taehyung,” Seokjin said calmly from across the table, sipping his drink like poison, “You just declared war.”