The Prosecutor Proposal BL - Taekook ver.

The office smelled of ozone and expensive cedar. Taehyung Kang sat behind a mahogany desk that looked like a fortress, his silhouette sharp against the floor-to-ceiling glass of the Seoul skyline. He didn't look up when Jungkook entered. He simply tapped a gold pen against a file folder—the 2010 murder of the Danhyeon Land mogul.

"Sit, Investigator Jeon."

Jungkook didn't sit. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his leather jacket smelling of rain and cheap cigarettes.

"I don't take orders from prosecutors who hide behind nicknames like 'The Psychopath,' Kang." Taehyung looked up. His eyes were voids, cold and calculating. He slid the folder across the polished surface.

"Your father killed a man. Then he killed himself to avoid the shame. Fifteen years of silence, and yet the ledger doesn't balance."

Jungkook’s jaw tightened. A muscle jumped in his cheek.

"My father was a scapegoat. You know that. Or maybe you just like playing with the wreckage." "I like the truth," Taehyung said, his voice a low, dangerous velvet.

"And I think you want it more than you want your pride. Partner with me. We reopen the cold case. We find out who actually pulled the trigger at Danhyeon Land."

"Why me? You hate my blood."

"Hate is a powerful motivator, Jeon. It keeps the mind sharp."

---

For weeks, the tension between them hummed like a live wire. They spent nights in the dim light of archives, chasing ghosts and corporate bribes. The professional distance crumbled during a raid on a warehouse owned by a Danhyeon subsidiary.

After the adrenaline of the bust, they found themselves locked in a cramped security office, the air thick with the scent of copper and old dust.

Taehyung pinned Jungkook against the metal lockers, the clang echoing in the silence. The mask of the perfectionist prosecutor shattered, revealing a raw, starving desperation.

"I wanted to destroy you," Taehyung whispered, his breath hot against Jungkook's ear. "I wanted to see you break for what your father did."

Jungkook gripped Taehyung’s collar, pulling him closer.

"Then do it. Break me."

Taehyung didn't hesitate. He crashed his lips onto Jungkook’s, a violent collision of teeth and tongue. They exchanged saliva with a hungry, desperate rhythm, Taehyung sucking on Jungkook's tongue as if trying to consume his very soul.

Taehyung's hand dove beneath Jungkook's tactical pants, ripping through the fabric of his underwear to find him already hard. Jungkook groaned, a guttural sound that vibrated in his chest. Taehyung gripped the thick length of Jungkook's cock, his thumb rubbing over the leaking pre-cum.

"You're so fucking wet for me," Taehyung hissed. He shoved Jungkook onto the desk, scattering files of the murder case onto the floor. Taehyung stripped quickly, his expensive slacks hitting the ground with a soft thud. He flipped Jungkook over, forcing him onto his stomach, the cold metal of the desk pressing into Jungkook's chest. Taehyung spat into his palm, lubricating his own rigid cock. He guided the head of his shaft against Jungkook's tight, puckered asshole. With one brutal, dominant thrust, he buried himself deep.

"Ah! Fuck!"

Jungkook arched his back, his fingers clawing at the metal. The sound of their bodies colliding was a wet, rhythmic slapping. Every thrust created a loud, squelching noise, the friction of their skin producing a heavy, shlicking sound that filled the small room.

Taehyung didn't slow down. He gripped Jungkook's hips, his fingers bruising the pale skin, and hammered into him. The cock slid in and out with a messy, visceral squelch, pushing air out of Jungkook's orifice in small, sharp wheezes.

"Tell me," Taehyung gasped, his voice breaking. "Tell me you belong to me."

"I'm... yours... fuck, Taehyung!"

The pleasure was overwhelming, a chaotic blur of hate and longing. Taehyung’s balls slapped against Jungkook’s perineum with every violent drive. He could feel the heat radiating from Jungkook’s internals, the tightness of the walls gripping him with an intensity that threatened to snap his control.

As the climax neared, Taehyung’s thrusts became erratic, overzealous. His cock slipped out halfway during a particularly hard shove, only to plunge back in with a loud, wet thud. The friction reached a boiling point. Jungkook let out a strangled cry as he came, his seed splashing across the mahogany surface of the desk.

Taehyung followed seconds later, his body shuddering as he flooded Jungkook's colon with hot, thick ropes of cum. He collapsed onto Jungkook's back, their sweat mingling, the scent of sex and salt overpowering the room.

They lay there in the aftermath, the silence returning. Taehyung shifted, his voice no longer cold, but fragile.

"My father was the mogul, Jungkook. I'm the son of the victim."

Jungkook stiffened, processing the revelation. He turned his head, looking at the man who had spent weeks tormenting him.

"You lied."

"I did. I wanted to see if you were just like him. If you were a killer."

Jungkook reached back, his hand finding Taehyung's. He squeezed, a silent anchor in the dark.

"I'm not. And neither are you."