Chapter Text
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Late night drives somehow became a thing between them.
Jungkook hadn’t expected it to happen. After that one night—ice cream on the hood of his car, secrets exchanged under stars—he figured that was it. A one-off.
It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t even discussed. But ever since that late-night drive, Jungkook had started expecting it—the text, the call, the excuse. And Taehyung never disappointed.
Sometimes it would be as simple as ‘Can’t sleep, you up?’ and sometimes it would be just crazy like :
Glitters: I’m craving tteokbokki. Street-side one. You promised, remember?
Jungkook's lips quirked as he gazed at the screen. He simply sent a thumbs-up and reached for his keys without responding with any words.
He hadn’t expected Taehyung to actually take up his offer. However, he was once more waiting outside the dorm at precisely 11:10 PM. Ten minutes later, Jungkook's heart did that strange thing once more when Taehyung slid into the passenger seat. He wouldn't acknowledge it.
With a sigh, Taehyung pulled open the door and slid into the passenger seat, effortlessly folding up his long legs. "Late again."
“Didn't know we were setting official times now,” Jungkook replied, adjusting the AC.
Taehyung was dressed in black shorts that showed far too much thigh for a cold night and an oversized cream sweater with sleeves that sucked his hands in. Jungkook reached over and turned up the heater out of instinct because his nose was a little red.
“You couldn’t order delivery?” Jungkook asked, glancing at him sideways.
“I’ve got a chauffeur now, remember?” Taehyung replied with a scoff. “Why would I sit around at home when I could harass you?”
“Right,” Jungkook sighed, smirking. “You just love making my life harder.”
Taehyung sticked his tongue out making Jungkook chuckle, then tugged the sweater sleeves till his palms, hugging them close, “Didn't see you in college today. Kind of felt… peaceful.”
Jungkook snorted, pulling out of the driveway. “So you missed me, huh? That’s why you called.”
Taehyung tsked with a smug smile, “Nah. Just realized how nice campus can be without your loud ass echoing in the corridors.”
Jungkook gasped, hands covering his chest dramatically, “Wow. The betrayal. After all these romantic late-night rides?”
“Romantic where?” Taehyung mocked and nudged his knee to make him concentrate, “Seriously, though. Where were you?”
Jungkook’s expression sobered just slightly. “Went to see my dad. Some business stuff. Just paperwork, nothing big.”
Taehyung didn’t press, sensing the shift. “Well,” he said lightly, “good timing then. I had a mean craving.”
Taehyung usually moaned at Jungkook's old rock playlist, but tonight he just hummed softly as they rode downtown in silence.
Taehyung enthusiastically slapped Jungkook's arm as they noticed a street vendor set up by the corner, steaming from large silver trays. "There! Hold on!”
After Jungkook halted the vehicle, the two got out, laughing and gasping for air. Taehyung bobbed on his toes while they ordered two of the servings, as if the cold couldn't get to him now.
Jungkook did not want to think about it—but god, this was like a date.
He shook the idea off just as Taehyung came back, beaming and carrying the paper trays like a child with treasure.
They were again sitting in the car, heater humming softly as they began eating. Taehyung devouring the first bite in haste.
And instantly froze.
“Shit,” Taehyung gasped, eyes wide, face turning red. “Shit, shit, spicy! Oh my god—!”
“Taehyung?” Jungkook leaned forward in alarm. “What the hell?”
Taehyung breaths ragged, and fanned his mouth, lips turning red. “Spicy! I can’t—I can’t breathe—!”
“What?!” Jungkook flailed, grabbing for a bottle from the middle console. “Why’d you eat it so fast?!”
Taehyung fanned his mouth, face turning red. “I thought—I thought I could handle it—!”
“Clearly not,” Jungkook muttered, unscrewing the bottle cap and tilting it toward Taehyung. “Here—drink. Small sips—no, not all at once, you idiot—”
Taehyung grasped Jungkook's wrist for support as he drank large gulps of water. Finished, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes welling with tears.
"Are you okay?" Without considering it, Jungkook used the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe Taehyung's lips and inquired.
Breathing hard, Taehyung nodded slowly. "I really craved it," he whispered. "Wanted it all day. I figured I could manage it."
Jungkook shot him a look of exasperation. "You and your terrible life decisions."
“I blame you. You should’ve stopped me.”
“I didn’t know you were about to challenge the devil himself,” Jungkook muttered, starting the engine again. “Let’s go. I’m making it for you at my place.”
Taehyung blinked. “You’re what?”
“I said, I’ll cook. Without spice. All restaurants are closed now anyway, unless you want to die again,” Jungkook said, glancing at him briefly.
Taehyung’s heart stumbled in his chest, voice softer now. “…You’d really do that?”
Jungkook scoffed. “I just know if I don’t, you’ll sit there whining all night and blaming me for your burnt tongue.”
Taehyung grinned, proud. “You’re so right. I was already planning to.”
"Unbelievable," said Jungkook, laughing and pointing his fingers at him.
As they drove away again, the car filled with the soft music and the lingering spice, Jungkook dared to glance at Taehyung.
His sweater was too big, his nose was red from the cold, and he was still smiling at the road ahead while holding the water bottle in his lap like a child.
It didn’t feel like a favor anymore.
It felt like a habit forming.
And Jungkook wasn’t sure he minded.
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Jungkook’s apartment had started to feel too familiar for someone who claimed to hate its owner. It was the third time now in two weeks.
The moment they were inside the apartment, Taehyung took off his shoes and dropped his body on the couch letting out a relaxed sigh, slumping into the mattress as if he’s home. He acted like he didn;t need permission to even do so. As if he belonged here.
Jungkook simply shook his head and without uttering anything, he walked over to the kitchen with a quiet chuckle.
"Can I use your Netflix?" Through the whir of the stove and clanging of pans, Taehyung yelled out.
“No,” Jungkook replied easily. “Top row. Don’t mess with my ‘Continue Watching.’”
“Too late,” Taehyung muttered with a grin, already scrolling.
Taehyung scrolled through programmes while Jungkook chopped, stir-fried, and stirred. A hoodie slung across the armrest caught his attention. Without hesitation, he pulled off his sweater and slipped into Jungkook's hoodie. It was big and had a subtle alpha scent on the fabric, with notes of musk and cedarwood.
With a satisfied sigh, he buried his arms around himself and tucked his legs under him as he sank further into the couch.
Taehyung had half-watched a comedy show and was laughing into the hood's collar when Jungkook showed up with a steaming bowl of freshly cooked tteokbokki. The sight of the food made him smile.
"Here—careful, it's hot," said Jungkook as he passed it over.
“Finally,” Taehyung said, eyes lighting up like a kid handed candy. He took the bowl and immediately dug in, only to moan—eyes fluttering shut. “Oh my god. This is so perfect.”
Jungkook took a seat beside him, but his eyes narrowed when he noticed that Taehyung was wearing something different, “Wait—when did you change? Why are you wearing that?”
Taehyung was busy gulping down the food, as he replied without even a glance at Jungkook. “It looked more comfortable than the itchy sweater I had on.”
“You have zero respect for personal property,” Jungkook muttered.
“Seriously though—where do you buy these?” Taehyung mumbled mid-bite. “They’re always so soft and cozy. Is it like a secret alpha-only store?”
"Hmph," Jungkook let out a sigh. Over another bite, Taehyung hummed, "I guess the only thing about you that I like is your hoodies."
Jungkook didn’t comment back on anything. As something had gripped his chest as he watched Taehyugn lick off the sauce from his fingers.
And then Taehyung casually said, "Whenever I craved like that, Seojoon would cook for me."
Jungkook blinked. His brows wiggled. "…Oh."
"But he's out of town," Taehyung continued eating, "So I couldn't call him today."
Jungkook bit his cheek. Something in that sentence didn't feel right to him.
“Well,” he said with a scowl, “you don’t have to call him. You can come to me if you have a craving like this again,”
Taehyung glanced at Jungkook with a glint in his eyes, “Hmm? Does this mean I can bother you, Jeon? Because that’s not a problem for me. Just don’t backtrack later.”
“I’ll kick you out if you become a menace,”
"All right, then." With mischievously sparkling eyes, Taehyung said sweetly, "Instead, I'll just visit Seojoon."
The name brought a dark glow in Jungkook;s eyes.
Without another word, he leant over, picked up the empty dish, and placed it on the table. Taehyung smirked and leant back slightly as he loomed over her.
“You really want to test me right now?” Jungkook asked lowly.
Taehyung laughed. “What? You gonna punish me, captain?”
Jungkook didn’t answer—he just attacked his sides with a sudden burst of tickles.
“Jeon—Jungkook—you asshole!” Taehyung shrieked, squirming under him, trying to fight off his hands. “Stop—get off me or I swear I’ll knee your face!”
“Go ahead,” Jungkook grinned, still tickling him. “You deserve this.”
The room echoed with loud laughter and harmless curses until Jungkook finally stopped and hovered over Taehyung, with his palms on either side of his waist. The drama was still playing in the background but neither paid attention to it, their faces close as they breathed the same air.
“You know…” Jungkook murmured, gaze fixed on Taehyung’s lips, “I cooked for you even though you ‘hate’ me. Shouldn’t I get a reward?”
Taehyung wrapped his arms around Jungkook’s neck, his fingers brushing the hair at the nape, “A bad alpha being good for once,” he said, voice silky. “I guess that’s worth something.”
He then bent over and gave Jungkook a gentle but sharp bite on the tip of his nose, causing the alpha to grunt.
"What is it you want?" With his eyes half closed and his breath warm against his lips, Taehyung posed the question.
Jungkook spoke in a gravelly tone. "To ruin you so thoroughly that you won't even consider leaving that door."
A gentle gasp caused Taehyung's lips to part. He only heard the heat, not the desperation in the words.
“Mm…” He arched his hips up with a soft whine. “Then what are you waiting for?”
Jungkook groaned low and guttural as he brought their mouths together, not out of tenderness but out of hunger. With ache. His hands slipped under the hem of his hoodie—his hoodie—feeling Taehyung’s bare thighs beneath.
And as clothes were peeled off and moans filled the apartment, the tteokbokki long forgotten—the warmth that bloomed in Jungkook’s chest stayed.
Because this wasn’t just a hookup. Not anymore.
Not when Taehyung made himself at home like that.
Not when he wore Jungkook’s hoodie like it belonged to him.
And especially not when he kissed him like he didn’t want to leave.
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It started with the minor changes.
Like how Taehyung had stopped flinching when Jungkook passed by him now in the corridors.
He used to glare. Or elbow him. Or dramatically sigh as if his entire day had been ruined by simply existing in the same air as the football captain.
But now?
Now, when Jungkook leant too close to the vending machine, Taehyung would roll his eyes but stay put. If no one was looking, he would occasionally even gently tug Jungkook's hoodie sleeve to dissuade him from making a foolish snack choice.
“Banana milk again? You’re five,” Taehyung would mutter, but there was no venom.
“Still tastes better than your glitter-covered strawberry drinks,“ Jungkook would mutter as he smirked and tossed the bottle onto the tray.
For everyone else, it was just the typical squabbling. But to them — it was something else. Something warmer.
Jungkook’s eyes would now seek Taehyung during classes, on its own darting to the back row where Taehyugn always sat with his chin resting in his pen and a pen between his lips.
Taehyung once handed him a folded note during an especially dull economics lecture. Jungkook expected sass — maybe a drawing of a pig in a football jersey.
Instead, it read:
"I don’t get a word of this. If I fail, it’s your fault."
Jungkook had chuckled and written back:
"Dinner at mine. I’ll tutor you. Wear my hoodie, you focus better in it."
Taehyung didn't reply.
But he showed up that night.
Wearing Jungkook’s hoodie.
During cheer practice, they were still chaos. Still shouting over formation counts and choreography. Still dramatic.
Except now, there were moments where Jungkook lingered too long on the bleachers, pretending to watch practice but clearly just watching Taehyung.
And Taehyung noticed.
He always noticed.
Once, after a particularly harsh practice, Jungkook tossed a chilled bottle of water to him. Taehyung caught it midair, surprised.
“Drink it, you look like you are about to pass out,” Jungkook remarked casually with a shrug,
Taehyung’s lips twitched. “Careful, Jeon. You’re being nice.”
“Shut up and drink the damn water.”
At frat parties, the shift became harder to hide.
They would arrive together to not look suspicious. Through the party they would try to look not bothered but would share glances over the rim of glasses from the other side of the room. By the end of the evening, somehow they would find themselves near each other in a dark corner.
Jungkook pretended not to be following Taehyung at all times. Taehyung feigning he didn't notice Jungkook's eyes on him all night.
One night Jungkook saw Taehyung dancing with a group of alphas, in his tight short and sequence see through shirt. His hair drenched in sweat, lips highlighted with red gloss, eyes half closed with head tilted back. Jungkook was sure he was drunk… even though he hadn’t taken a sip since his eyes landed on Taehyung.
He grabbed Taehyung by his wrist and took him to a corner, growling, “You look too fucking good. We have to leave, right now,”
And Taehyung followed. No protest. Just a smirk.
It wasn’t love yet.
It wasn’t even anything spoken aloud.
But when Taehyung laughed now, Jungkook looked softer.
And when Jungkook smiled, Taehyung’s eyes lingered longer.
Whatever it was — it was growing. Quietly. Steadily.
And this time, it wasn’t behind closed doors. Others had started noticing,
One evening, The field was dimly lit, the floodlights buzzing as the last few players lingered, packing up. The cheer squad was wrapping up, energy worn out after hours of drills.
Jimin’s eyes didn’t leave Taehyung once.
And more importantly — didn’t miss the way Jungkook kept sneaking glances over from where he stood with Hoseok by the goalpost. Like clockwork, every time Taehyung wiped sweat off his brow or laughed with another teammate, Jungkook would look.
And Taehyung?
Didn’t scowl. Didn’t roll his eyes like he used to.
Instead, he looked back.
And smiled.
Jimin pulled him aside the second they were dismissed.
“Taehyung,” he said, hand firm around Taehyung’s arm, dragging him near the bleachers, “What the hell are you even doing?”
Taehyung blinked, still catching his breath. “What?”
Jimin stared him down. “Don’t give me that. You and Jeon—there’s something going on.”
Taehyung scoffed, tossing his towel over his shoulder. “Jimin, I told you. It’s not like that. It’s just… a thing. Physical. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Jimin crossed his arms, unmoved. “You used to glare at each other like enemies in a soap opera. Now you look for each other. You smile. Jungkook literally offered you his water bottle today.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Maybe he’s just less annoying these days. Or maybe I’ve reached a higher level of tolerance. Either way— you’re thinking too much. ”
“No, I am not. I know what it is,” Jimin said flatly. “You’re catching feelings Taehyung .”
Taehyung paused. For a second, something in his chest tightened. But he shrugged, brushing it off with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Whatever,” he muttered. “Still not your business.”
Jimin watched him walk off, heart sinking. He wished Taehyung could see it too — that this thing between him and Jungkook was changing. Already had.
The biggest shift happened the day Taehyung fell sick.
The ache had started as a throb behind Taehyung’s eyes mid-afternoon. By evening, it spread like heat across his skin, making his muscles heavy and breath uneven.
He barely responded to Jimin’s texts.
Even Jungkook had texted him something dumb earlier — a blurry pic of Hoseok doing a split, followed by:
“Do you think your squad could do this? ”
Taehyung only replied with:
“go fck ureself”
By 10:17 PM, he was curled under his blanket, hoodie on, nose red, shivering despite the layers.
A knock came on the door.
He groaned. “If it’s Jimin, I swear—”
He opened the door half-heartedly, expecting his roommate.
Instead, it was Jungkook.
Holding a plastic bag, a bottle of water tucked under his arm, and a very focused frown on his face.
“Yah, what the—?” Taehyung croaked, voice barely above a whisper.
Jungkook didn’t even greet him. He stepped in, placed the bag down, and pressed a cool palm against Taehyung’s forehead.
“Your texts had typos,” Jungkook murmured. “You never have typos.”
Taehyung blinked. “…huh?.”
Jungkook didn’t answer. Just guided him gently back into bed.
“Move,” he said gruffly, tossing the covers open. “And no, don’t argue.”
Taehyung didn’t.
He sank into the sheets, watched silently as Jungkook moved around the room like he’d done this before. Opened the bag — soup container, fever meds, tissues. Set everything on the nightstand.
He didn’t joke. Didn’t tease. Didn’t flirt.
Just stayed.
Even turned on a movie — something muted, some random animation — and pulled a chair up beside the bed.
But as the minutes passed, Taehyung felt a warmth near his back. He turned to see Jungkook had climbed onto the bed, back pressed to his.
“Comfort,” Jungkook muttered, not looking at him.
“You’re gonna get sick too,” Taehyung whispered.
“I’m strong,” Jungkook replied. “Built different.”
Taehyung smiled faintly. “Cocky bastard.”
Jungkook let out a quiet laugh through his nose.
And for a while, they laid there. Fully clothed. Not touching — except for the places where their backs pressed together.
It was quiet. Gentle. Safe.
Taehyung’s voice came low. Fragile. “…Thanks. You didn’t have to come.”
Jungkook didn’t turn. Just said softly, “Guess your annoying ass grew on me.”
Taehyung chuckled once. Sleepily. “Gross.”
Jungkook leaned his head back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling. “Don’t read into it. I’m still gonna bully you in practice.”
Taehyung was already half-asleep, words slurring. “You wouldn’t dare…”
And minutes later, his breathing evened out.
That night, no lines were crossed. No heat. No tension.
Just two people — tangled in something neither of them fully understood yet — sleeping back to back in the quiet.
And somehow... And somehow, it feels more intimate than any of their previous nights tangled in sheets.
Because this time, it wasn’t about lust. It wasn’t about hate.
It was care. It was comfort. It was something else entirely.
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"You have bonded."
The words hung heavy in the small cabin-like clinic room. Sterile. Too white. Too quiet.
Taehyung stared at the beta doctor sitting across from him, her white coat crisp and hands folded on the desk. Her expression was composed, but kind — as if she already knew he’s about to spiral.
“What—?” His voice cracked. “I’ve what ?”
“You have bonded,” she repeated softly. “Your omega has formed a one-sided bond with an alpha.”
Taehyung blinked. His throat feels dry, mouth unable to form words. He looked down at the file in his lap, the medical terms and notes blurring together.
“Bonded?” he echoed faintly, lifting his gaze again. “But… but how is that even possible ?”
The doctor’s brows furrowed in quiet sympathy. “I know it’s a lot to take in,” she said gently, fingers folded over her clipboard. “But based on your recent health symptoms — the recurring low-grade fevers, sudden onset migraines, emotional fluctuations, heat shifts — and most notably, the distress you experience when your alpha partner is absent…”
“I don’t have a partner,” Taehyung snapped, almost too fast. Defensive.
The doctor gave a patient nod. “Your sleeping partner , then. Biologically, your body is reacting to absence like withdrawal. That’s textbook bond behavior. And your last heat coming earlier than usual? Likely a sign that your wolf was distressed. Bonds are complex, but often the symptoms aren’t”
“No…” Taehyung whispered, voice crumbling. “No. That’s not— I would’ve known. I hated him—”
She spoke slowly, like she’s done this before. “Taehyungssi bonding doesn’t happen overnight. It’s gradual. Silent. We believe the initial trigger could’ve occurred months ago, maybe even years back. And once your omega started associating him with safety, satisfaction, or desire… the bond began forming. Subconsciously.”
Taehyung covered his face with his hands. “Fuck… fuck—”
“I know you told me you disliked him,” she said gently. “But emotions can be… complicated. You may have interpreted the early signs — the tug in your chest, the tension, the obsession — as irritation. That happens. Many omegas confuse a forming bond with hostility when their conscious mind doesn’t align with their instincts.”
Taehyung was shaking his head now, like denial could unravel everything she just said. “But I didn’t even like him. Not in first year. Not in second. He was insufferable. He— he mocked me, he laughed at me, I—”
“And yet,” the doctor cut in gently, “you kept seeking him out. You fought with him, yes. But did you ever… stay away from him?”
That made Taehyung freeze.
Her words feel like needles under his skin.
His heart is racing. His stomach churns. Everything is wrong.
The taxi ride back to campus was a blur. The cab driver asked twice if he wanted the air conditioning adjusted. Taehyung didn’t answer.
Even as he keyed into his dorm, he still hadn’t processed it. His bag dropped to the floor with a soft thud .
Taehyung shrugged off his coat and dropped the folder onto his desk without even looking. His limbs feel leaden. He still was trying to convince himself it’s a mistake, some clerical error. Surely his body wouldn’t betray him like this.
But then he turned.
And saw it.
His nest.
The carefully arranged pile of hoodies and blankets. The scent—earthy, rich, alpha—hits him like a punch to the gut. And not just any alpha. Jungkook.
four of Jungkook’s hoodies. All soft. All worn. All unmistakably Jungkook.
A hoodie Taehyung had stolen weeks ago for “just one night”
Another “borrowed” during movie night.
Some he’d stolen after sneaky nights. Some Jungkook had probably noticed were missing. They smell like him. That grounding sandalwood-musk, tinged with sweat and body warmth. The scent that settles his wolf. That makes him feel safe.
Taehyung’s nest was a shrine of it.
“Oh god,” Taehyung gasped, stumbling closer. His knees hit the edge of the bed and he collapsed into the hoodies like gravity itself had turned traitor. His fingers clenched the fabric desperately.
His voice broke as he whispered, “When did this happen…?”
He curled into the nest without meaning to, instinct guiding him. His body shivered — not from cold, but from the sheer rightness of the nest. It felt like home.
His omega quietened.
His wolf purred.
And Taehyung cried.
Arms around one of the hoodies, his eyes burning.
“I didn’t know,” he whispered. “I didn’t know. ”
The tears came slow at first. Then faster. Salt streaking down his cheeks.
“How didn’t I see it?” he whispered. “How could I not fucking notice ?”
The signs were there. The way he couldn’t sleep right without the scent. How he felt empty, raw, when Jungkook didn’t text back. How his body ached after that weekend Jungkook went to his cousin’s wedding and didn’t call. How he got sick.
He needed Jungkook.
Not just emotionally.
Biologically.
Taehyung dragged one of the hoodies to his chest, nuzzling into the sleeve, biting back another sob. “Fuck,” he whimpered, trembling. “When—when did this start? ”
He tried to think back. Through years of bickering and arguments and late-night hookups.
But every memory bled together now.
And then the realization hit harder.
If the last heat was a result of delayed imprinting — then that means…
“Even before we first slept together,” he said aloud, voice trembling, “I’d already…”
His heart clenched painfully.
I’d already bonded with him.
The thought alone made his breath hitch. Because if his wolf had already chosen back then…
What chance did he ever have?
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It took two whole days for Taehyung to begin to process it.
Two days of lying in his nest of stolen hoodies, too drained to even cry properly anymore. Two days of his wolf whining restlessly inside him, desperate, grieving, aching — because now that the bond was out in the open, there was no way to ignore the truth.
He’d bonded.
Unwillingly, maybe. Unknowingly, yes.
But irrevocably.
And it hurt.
Taehyung tried to trace it back — to the exact moment it all began. His mind flipped through countless memories like a photo reel, hunting for some obvious trigger. The first brush of fingers, the first time Jungkook called him by his name instead of a nickname, the first time his wolf purred when they shared a bed. But there were too many firsts, too many shifts. The lines had blurred long ago.
He curled tighter into his bed, tugging a familiar sleeve closer to his nose.
Jungkook’s scent was fading now. Faint.
It made something in his chest twist painfully.
He needed more. God, he needed more.
But what right did he have to ask for it?
They weren’t in love. Jungkook probably didn’t even like him that much. He just liked sleeping with him — liked the chase, the tension, the snide comments that always ended with shirts discarded on floors and nails digging into backs. That was it.
Not a bond. Not this.
And Taehyung couldn’t move forward, not when it was one-sided. Not when he was the only one hurting.
His phone had rung more times in the last two days than it had all month. Friends. Professors. Jimin. Seojoon. Even Jungkook.
He didn’t answer any of them.
Didn’t answer the knocks on the door either — except when Jimin had shoved soup and meds into his hands and left with a muttered curse and a glare, over a promise of explaining everything later.
But now, standing in the kitchen in an oversized shirt and sweats, cooking something tasteless and mechanical, his phone buzzed again. unknown number.
His heart clenched. He rejected the call.
He barely had time to exhale when—
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The knock on the door made him jump, and the ladle slipped from his fingers, clattering against the floor.
Then a voice followed — low, sharp, fraying at the edges with panic.
“Taehyung! I know you're in there. Open the damn door—stop fucking declining my calls!”
Taehyung’s breath hitched.
Jungkook.
His voice wasn't like usual. It was cracked, desperate, angry in a way that reeked of something deeper than irritation.
Jungkook’s fists hit the door again.
“I’m not kidding. If you don’t open this door in the next five minutes, I will break it down.”
Taehyung cursed under his breath. He scrambled across the room, throwing open his cupboard to shove the hoodies inside. His hands trembled. His body moved on instinct as he wiped his face, ran fingers through his hair, and stared at the door.
He wasn’t ready.
He wasn’t ready to see Jungkook after this. Not with his bond humming under his skin like a livewire.
But there was no time left to think.
He unlocked the door and pulled it open with a slow breath—
—and froze.
Jungkook looked wrecked.
Hair messy, clothes rumpled, eyes bloodshot and wild like he hadn’t slept properly. His chest rose and fell like he’d sprinted his way here. And the second his eyes landed on Taehyung, his scowl deepened.
“Taehyung—” Jungkook surged forward before he could stop himself. His hands immediately cupped Taehyung’s face, his thumbs stroking the clammy skin under his cheekbones.
“Are you okay? Did the fever come back?” Jungkook asked in a rush, eyes wide and frantic. “Did the doctor say something? Why—why the fuck haven’t you been answering my calls for two days?”
His voice cracked, laced with panic he couldn’t hide anymore.
Taehyung didn’t respond at first. He just stared at Jungkook’s face — so close, so worried, so genuinely desperate — Taehyung felt his heart clench so hard he thought it might never beat normally again.
He wanted to cry.
But it felt like all his tears had been spent.
Instead with trembling hands, Taehyung gently took Jungkook’s wrists and peeled them off his face. “I just…” he whispered, eyes falling to the floor. “Had an argument with my father.”
Jungkook froze. “Your father?”
“Yeah.” Taehyung tried to keep his voice casual, but it came out flat. “Didn’t feel like talking to anyone after that.”
It was a lie — not completely, but enough.
His father had called yesterday. After months of silence. Three months since he returned to the country, and not a word — until now. A single call. Four words.
“We need to meet.”
That was it. But it was enough.
Enough to tell Taehyung that his countdown was over. The grace period had ended.
He had no sponsorship lined up, no plan, and nowhere to run. His father had waited long enough. And now, like a noose slowly drawing tight, the walls were closing in.
And he couldn’t run. Not from a man powerful enough to find him anywhere.
He felt caged.
And worst of all?
He was bonded.
He couldn’t belong to anyone else now. Not without shattering a piece of his soul. Not without killing his wolf slowly and cruelly.
But Jungkook didn’t know that.
Jungkook only knew that Taehyung’s face looked far too resigned for someone his age.
"What did he say?" Jungkook asked, low and guarded.
Taehyung didn't respond immediately. Then, with a dry laugh, he grumbled, "He wants to see me. That is all. I think…I don't really have a choice now."
He rose and tried to smile, but it didn't quite make it past his eyes. "Our time's up, huh?
Jungkook's lips parted, as if to protest — to say something, anything — but he didn't. His hands went back to Taehyung's face, more intentional this time. His palms cradled his cheeks, thumbs tracing the fine skin under his eyes.
Taehyung's breath caught as Jungkook leaned in, his forehead against Taehyung's, his presence suffocating — steady and warm.
"It's gonna be okay," Jungkook whispered. "Everything's gonna be fine, yeah?
Taehyung closed his eyes. Grasped Jungkook's wrists lightly, as if - if he held too hard, he'd promise something he couldn't do.
Why do you act like this means something, Jungkook?
Why do you hold me like this is real?
He didn’t say it aloud.
Because if Jungkook said yes — that it did mean something — it would hurt more.
And if he said no… it would break him.
“Did you eat?” Jungkook asked suddenly, pulling back just enough to look at him again.
Taehyung nodded weakly. “I was cooking something.”
That made Jungkook frown instantly. “What something?”
“Soup?” Taehyung said sheepishly.
Jungkook didn’t look convinced. He left Taehyung behind and headed straight for the dorm's small kitchenette. As Jungkook looked into the pot, Taehyung silently followed him inside.
“This is just hot water with floating vegetables.”
“It’s soup!” Taehyung said defensively.
“It’s sadness in a pot,” Jungkook muttered, already rolling up his sleeves. “Sit down. I’ll make you something edible.”
Taehyung remained silent. As he watched Jungkook move about the room as if he owned it, he simply sank into the chair by the little table and rested his cheek on the wood. Like he belonged there.
“You should check your mail too,” Jungkook added over his shoulder. “I sent you the lecture notes. The professor talked about the upcoming practicals. You missed it.”
Taehyung’s heart tightened.
This—this casual domesticity. The ease with which Jungkook stepped in, cooked, covered for him, worried like it was natural — it hurt more than anything else.
Since he didn't know how long he'd be able to keep it.
Jungkook set the steaming bowl of soup down in front of Taehyung, the strong aroma of garlic and broth rising up. "Be careful. It's hot."
Taehyung blinked away from his haze, muttered a soft thanks, and accepted the spoon with a trembling hand. He drank slowly, his body relaxing as the warmth spread in his belly, grounding him. He hadn't known he was so cold until now.
Jungkook, on the other hand, came into the living room and came back with a bag Taehyung hadn't seen before. A plain plastic shopping bag.
"By the way," Jungkook added while he placed it on the kitchen counter, "you always ask where I source my hoodies, don't you?"
Taehyung blinked, his head still bent over his bowl. "Yeah…?"
"I got two for you," Jungkook mentioned nonchalantly, pushing the bag towards him. "Just see if they fit. See if they are your style."
Taehyung looked at the bag like it could bite him. Gradually, he placed his spoon down and peered inside.
The instant he pulled one hoodie out — dark green, baggy, mink-thick — the smell hit him like a body blow.
It smelled of Jungkook.
"They smell like you," Taehyung breathed, burying his face in the cloth before he could catch himself.
Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck. "Wore 'em during trials. Haven't washed 'em yet. I can if it creeps you out."
Taehyung said nothing. He wasn't even sure how.
Because it wasn’t the hoodie.
It was the scent.
The safety, the calm, the feel of being wrapped in Jungkook.
He glanced up, eyes momentarily landing on the navy hoodie Jungkook was wearing now — the one he had layered over a loose white shirt. It looked lived-in, a little worn at the sleeves. It had to smell like Jungkook ten times more than the rest.
Jungkook caught him staring and misread the expression entirely.
“Oh—you want this one too?” he asked with a small chuckle.
Before Taehyung could protest, Jungkook stepped in front of him and began pulling it over his own head.
“Arms up,” he ordered.
“Huh?” Taehyung blinked, confused.
“C’mon. Arms. Up.”
Slowly, still not quite processing the moment, Taehyung raised his arms. Like he was dressing a doll, Jungkook carefully pulled the hoodie down over Taehyung's body and slipped it over his head.
"There." Pulling the sleeves into position and then teasingly pulling on the hoodie strings, Jungkook muttered, “Could’ve just said you liked this one better. My whole damn cupboard’s missing at this point.”
Taehyung didn’t reply.
Because something cracked open inside him.
The scent hit stronger now — heady and warm — and it rushed through him like a balm. His shoulders, which had been stiff all evening, fell loose. His fingers gripped the hem, like anchoring himself in the comfort of it.
Jungkook was still standing close when he said, “Hey… do you have that outfit you wore to the fresher’s party?”
Taehyung furrowed his brows. “I think? Why?”
“You should wear it today later,” Jungkook said. “When you go meet your father.”
“What?” Tahyung asked frowning, lips parted in surprise,
Jungkook said with a red hint tainting his cheeks, “You looked… strong. Untouchable. Like you owned the room. Like you’re someone he should be afraid of.”
The words knocked the breath out of Taehyung’s lungs.
He didn’t know what hit harder — that Jungkook remembered what he wore, or that he thought he looked powerful. Worthy. Alpha-like.
He opened his mouth, but the words stuck in his throat.
With softer eyes now, Jungkook leant in gradually, allowing Taehyung every opportunity to retreat.
He didn’t.
Their lips met, slow and warm. Nothing rushed or wild like before.There were only two lips, pressed together, breathing in each other as if they were at a loss for words.
Taehyung wrapped his fingers around Jungkook's shirt.
But then—
A cough.
A throat-clearing cough, sharp and unmistakably pointed.
They broke apart like they’d been electrocuted.
Jungkook scrambled a step back, eyes wide and panicked, his hand flying up to rub the back of his neck as he turned toward the door.
“Uh—fuck,” he muttered.
There stood Jimin.
Backpack over one shoulder, expression unreadable — except for the thinly veiled suspicion simmering beneath. Taehyung glanced at Jungkook, who was not meeting his eyes at all. And that made something sin deep in his stomach.
Right. Of course.
It’s still a secret. Still just a physical thing. Still something to panic over if anyone sees.
Taehyung with a forced-tight lipped smile sat back and focused back on the soup Jungkook cooked for him. As if nothing had happened.
As if Jungkook hadn’t just pulled away from him like he was something dangerous. Like a mistake.
Because if this meant anything to Jungkook… he wouldn’t have looked so damn scared.
“Jungkook, relax,” Taehyung said after a beat, voice low and slightly hoarse. “Jimin knows.”
Jungkook blinked, confused. “He knows?”
Jimin let out a sigh, letting his bag fall by the door as he stepped all the way in. "You two aren't exactly subtle. Pretty sure half the campus has figured something out by now.”
Jungkook looked slightly bothered at the words, his gaze moving to Taehyung again, btu this time Taehyung didn't return it. He simply continued eating, mouth shut tightly as if the soup could somehow fill the void in his chest.
There was a beat of silence. Then Jungkook said while moving towards the door, “I-I should get going”
He cleared his throat when he was at the door, stammering awkwardly, “Taehyung please don’t ignore my calls again okay?”
Taehyung didn't even look up. He simply waved his hand around and mumbled, "Yeah. Got it."
Jungkook lingered a second longer… then left.
The second the door snapped shut, Jimin spun to Taehyung, his arms crossed.
"So," he whispered, "still gonna say it's casual?"
Taehyung didn't respond.
Didn't even attempt to. Before Jimin could ask it again, Taehyung’s tears had started to flow. Silently, and then faster - harder until he was trembling in his place.
“Jimin, I don’t know what to do,” Taehyung choked out through tears, his voice on verge on breaking, “I really don’t know,”
Jimin in an instant walked to Taehyung, kneeling down in front of him to get a close look at him as Taehyung cried with his head bowed,, “oh Tae..” he got up to wrap his arms around him, “I’m here for you okay? I am here, always,”
Taehyung wept over Jimin's shoulder—soft and shattered.
He cried for the bond that would never be complete. For the future he might lose tomorrow. For the goodbye that he had to say when he didn’t want to.
Though Taehyung hadn’t realized one thing - it didn’t click his mind right away.
Jungkook had known.
He had said: “Wear the fresher’s outfit when you go meet your father today.”
But… Taehyung hadn’t told him when he was going.
That thought nestled into the back of his mind like a seed. But now he had no time to doubt it.
Later that night, Taehyung stood before his mirror, fluttering his fingers at the sequinned blazer's cuffs. The freshmen's party one. It fit tighter around his shoulders now, a sign of time passed.
He had even styled his hair, sweeping it back loosely with just enough shine and accuracy to give him an aged, slightly icy appearance. Despite having spent his entire life fighting against it, he felt as though he was a part of the world he was born into.
He gazed at his image.
At the expensive suit. The sharp lines. The war behind his eyes.
Today might be the day he would have to say goodbye to Jungkook.
If his father made the final decision tonight… if Taehyung failed to convince him…
Breathing heavily, he picked up his phone and left, locking the door behind him. Outside, a chauffeur stood besides a sleek black car with its door open, just as he had anticipated.
Taehyung entered silently.
There was silence on the drive.
Too quiet.
Breathing became more challenging as his throat tightened slightly with each passing streetlight and engine hum. His fingers clutched his slacks until the car finally slowed to a stop, his knuckles white.
He looked up.
The restaurant was grand. Elite. Chandeliers sparkled from the tall windows, and the golden light inside bled onto the pavement. The kind of place where you didn’t talk—you negotiated.
It took him ten full minutes just to gather himself before he stepped out.
He found his father by the reception desk—sharp in a suit, with his signature air of judgment that always made Taehyung feel ten years old again.
“You can’t do anything right. I told you to be on time,” His father scolded, eyebrows narrowed in frustration,
“I am sorry,” Taehyung apologized, with a bow, “Father,
His father didn’t reply to that. He simply turned on his heel. “They’re waiting. Let’s go.”
Taehyung, confused, asks, “They who?”
His father just gave a reply over his shoulder, not stopping for even a second “Your future-in-laws”
And Taehyung’s blood ran cold. He let out a choked, “What?”
But his father didn’t look back as he simply kept walking to the private wing, expecting Taehyung to follow him.
Taehyung was frozen in his place for a second. His mind, a roar of static.
Future in-laws?
No negotiation. No time. No warning.
He trailed behind, shivering legs attempting to steel themselves.
A suited staff member guided them down a soft, velvet-carpeted corridor into an exclusive dining suite. Taehyung’s body moved on its own, his legs were numb and a shallow puff of breaths left his mouth. His hands kept shaking in terror, he tried to hide it by clamping them firmly behind him.
As the sliding doors creaked open, he nearly fell.
Within the fancy room were two men already—one middle-aged, likely of his father's age, with stern face and sharp demeanor, and another younger man in his thirties, well-mannered and composed.
And Taehyung instantly felt sick to his stomach. His wolf whined inside him uncomfortably, his throat constricted.
No. No, no, no… not this. Not in this way.
The older man stood first, polite and formal. “Mr. Kim,” he said, giving a shallow bow. “It’s a pleasure. I’m Jeon Jungho.”
Taehyung barely heard the words.
Then the younger man stood. “And I’m Jeon Taesoo,” he said, lips curled into a polite, amused smile.
Jeon?
His vision blurred. He could barely process anything. His wolf was growling, pacing, sensing something unnatural—something wrong and familiar all at once. And worse, he could smell Jungkook. Or maybe his wolf had finally lost it now - imagining things from all stress and grief.
“I’m so happy we came to an agreement,” Taehyung’s father, sounding too pleased, “This collaboration between families will be invaluable. I’m confident Taesoo and Taehyung will make a wonderful couple.”
Taehyung scoffed bitterly. “A ‘collaboration,’ huh? That’s all I am?”
His father gave him a side-glare like a warning. Though before things could turn awkward, Jungho cut in between politely with a smile,
“Wait, I think there’s a misunderstanding,” He gestured toward Taesoo. “My eldest is already engaged abroad. I’m here today on behalf of my youngest son.”
Taehyung got confused along with his father. Youngest?
Before he could ask—
“Sorry I’m late.”
That voice
Taehyung sensed that everything was tilting. The room was suddenly filled with a familiar smell: clean soap, pine, and a hint of spice.
He turned slowly.
Jungkook. Standing there, chest rising and falling lightly, dressed sharply in a black button-up and coat, his gaze unreadable, intense—and locked entirely on Taehyung.
Jungho turned slightly. “Here he is—my younger son, Jeon Jungkook. We’ve come to ask for your son’s hand… for Jungkook.”
Taehyung’s ears began to ring. Everything else became white noise.Everything was hazy, including his father's whispered surprise, the gleam of silverware, and the polished room. The only sound he could hear was the pounding of his heart.
After making a brief bow to the elders, Jungkook sat down beside Taesoo.
Taesoo whispered to him, and Jungkook smiled, a tiny, recognisable lip curve that Taehyung had noticed in more private, quiet times. This place seemed unreal.
His dad pushed him. "Sit," he said sharply.
Unable to think, Taehyung lowered himself slowly into the seat across from Jungkook and obeyed like a ghost.
Mr. Kim tried to steady the conversation. “I see… I assumed it would be your elder son handling business.”
Jungho chuckled lightly. “Ah, neither my sons had any interest in our business ventures. Actually, I was beginning to worry—until a few days ago when Jungkook came to me with this idea. He’s the one who proposed the merger. Said he had someone in mind already.”
Jungho’s eyes moved to Taehyung, warm with subtle meaning. “Seems my son is finally finding his direction. And I think your son will be a good influence on him. Jungkook would be lucky to have such a beautiful omega as his mate.”
Taehyung felt like he couldn’t breathe.
He wanted to scream What are you doing, Jungkook?
Why didn’t you tell me? Why this?
His father nodded. “Then shall we begin the mating ceremony preparations next month?”
Taehyung jolted, mouth opening—he had to say something, he couldn’t let this happen like this—
But before he could, Jungho raised his palm gently. “Oh—there’s one important request.”
All eyes turned to him.
“My son,” Jungho said, glancing at Jungkook with an amused fondness, “would like to court your son first.”
Taehyung’s jaw dropped. His entire mind paused.
“Court?” Mr. Kim blinked in confusion. “Why the delay? What’s the need for that?”
Taesoo jumped in, voice even but firm. “It would be beneficial for both families. The kids need time to adjust, and this way they can finish their education, get familiar with our industries. Jungkook has already started his executive training. I hear Taehyung is a cheerleader—he might find sponsorships, brand support. It’s valuable exposure.”
Mr. Kim scoffed. “What’s the need for sponsorships when he’s going to look after the home?”
Taesoo’s gaze sharpened. “Because if Taehyung wants to build something for himself, he has every right to. Even after mating. We don’t believe in outdated roles, Mr. Kim. And Jungkook doesn’t either.”
Taehyung turned slowly to Jungkook, who met his gaze—finally.
There was no teasing in his face. No mischief. Just seriousness. Intensity. And something else, simmering beneath the surface, subtly.
To stop shaking, Taehyung's hands clenched into fists beneath the table. His heart pounded so loudly that it was painful.
He didn’t know what Jungkook was doing. Or why.
“Can I talk to Taehyung alone?”
Taehyung’s eyes snapped up in disbelief.
Everyone else paused—his father looked affronted, the suitor's family confused—but Jungkook remained steady. Calm. Even respectful.
“No,” is what Taehyung’s father wanted to say. But what came out was a hesitant nod. He needed the merge.
Jungkook turned to him gently. “Should we go out?” he asked softly.
Taehyung’s chest burned from too many things. Confusion. Anger. Betrayal.
But he needed to know what this was. So he nodded.
Jungkook rose, circumnavigated the table, and nonchalantly rested a hand on Taehyung's shoulder, nudging him in the direction of the hallway. The heat of that contact alone curdled Taehyung's stomach.
Outside—only the two of them under the evening air, removed from prying ears and gracious smiles—Taehyung lost control.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" His voice broke, strained and hysterical.
Jungkook winced but didn't step back. He chewed on the inside of his cheek now, his eyes looking unsettled before speaking up to say, "I know. I should have told you earlier. I was going to, but. you didn't answer my calls and I—I had no idea your father would act this quickly."
Taehyung's eyes widened, disbelief in them, "Why are you even here?! Why were you in that room?! Jungkook, what the heck is going on?!"
Jungkook moved closer, taking a hold of Taehyung's hands. When Taehyung automatically pulled away, Jungkook held on tightly, tugging him gently closer.
"Just—listen to me. Please, just listen first."
Taehyung remained frozen, angry tears filled in his eyes. But he didn't move. He allowed Jungkook to continue.
Jungkook gazed down at their clasped hands. His voice was soft but insistent.
"It just. it wouldn't leave me alone, Tae. All of this. You, having to give up your life, your aspirations, your liberty—for something you didn't want. You deserve better than that, and I— I couldn't just sit and watch you get passed around like a deal."
Taehyung's mouth wobbled. But he did not speak.
Jungkook swallowed hard, his voice gruffer now. "And I kept thinking why it bothered me so much. I mean, weren't we just. two idiots who hated each other? Why should it matter what happens to you?"
He looked up into Taehyung’s eyes now, gaze unwavering.
“But the more I thought about it, I realized— I had it all wrong. Things haven’t changed. I just didn’t realise how the meaning to everything was different now,”
Taehyung's voice was a raspy whisper, and his brows were furrowed. "I don't understand."
With eyes full of things he had never said, Jungkook gazed at him.
He whispered, "I used to hate how much you smiled," as he raised a hand to dab at a tear that was streaming down Taehyung's cheek. “Now I hate when that smile is gone.”
“I hated how you talked too much. Now I hate your silence.”
“I hated how you always glittered like you were untouchable. Now I hate it when I see that shine fade.”
With every sentence, Jungkook’s thumb brushed more tears away. His other hand came up to cradle the side of Taehyung’s face.
“I hate how you’re not around to annoy me. I hate seeing you with anyone else. I hate the way your scent isn’t in my sheets when you’re gone. I hate how you smell burnt when you are upset,”
Taehyung whimpered, “Stop it, Jungkook…”
“I hate when you don't notice how I look at you. I hate that you don’t see it, glitters,” Jungkook whispered. “Do you really think I let just anyone sleepover? Wear my clothes? Take over my kitchen? Cuddle with them in my bed as if they belong there?”
Taehyung’s knees almost buckled, his voice broke. “Stop it… you don’t mean it. You’re just—just trying to pity me or something—”
“I am not pitying you,” Jungkook yelled out, voice bordering on frustration and desperation, “I am not trying to be your knight in armor. I’m trying to fucking save myself.”
He stepped even closer, their foreheads almost touching now. “Two days without you, glitters… two days where you didn’t call, didn’t text—I lost my damn mind. I am not here to be just some hero trying to save you.”
Taehyung could feel the first sob break through him.
“I am not saving you,” Jungkook said desperately, resting his forehead against Taehyung’s “I am doing all this to save myself. Please… please, let me court you. Let me fight for you. Let me be yours.”
Taehyung shook his head violently, wanting to break free but his arms still wrapped around Jungkook's torso. “You don’t need to do this-”
“I want to. I need to.” Jungkook gripped his waist tightly. “Taehyung, please don’t walk into that restaurant to say no. Don’t give up on us before we even have a chance of a beginning. Please. Please.”
Taehyung snuggled closer into Jungkook, taking in the way the Alpha held him so gently. So reverently. His thumb grazes over Taehyung’s knuckles like he’s memorizing his lines.
Taehyung amidst the thudding of his heart, swallowed hard, the words ‘My wolf is bonded to you’ almost on verge to be out of his lips - but he doesn’t say it.
Instead, he asks quietly, voice uncertain, “What would happen… if I said yes?”
With soft, contented eyes that make Taehyung's chest tighten, Jungkook raises their clasped hands and plants a kiss on Taehyung's knuckles.
"I would then treat you with the respect you deserve."
Jungkook has a quiet, almost bashful voice. Every word he says sounds like a promise.
As Jungkook went on, his voice becoming lighter with humour, Taehyung's breath caught in his throat.
"You can irritate me as much as you like. Talk to me nonstop. Play your stupid EDM-Beyoncé playlist—hell, I’ll even sing along if you ask nicely.”
Taehyung snorted, laughing despite himself. “You hate Beyoncé.”
Jungkook grinned. “Exactly. That’s how serious I am.”
He leaned in just a little. “I’ll take you on as many long drives as you want. We can hit every tteokbokki cart in the city. And I’ll buy you an entire collection of hoodies—any color, any size—hell.”
Taehyung’s smile softened into a shy one, eyes shining with a glint. He hid his face into crook of Jungkook’s neck, mumbling, “It wasn;t about the hoodies,”
Jungkook titled his head back to look at Taehyung properly, “What do you mean?”
Taehyung fidgeted with Jungkook’s collar, whispering in an embarrassed tone, “It was how your hoodies smelled like you. That’s why I kept stealing them. Not because they were soft.”
Jungkook's eyes widened for a moment in a stunned silence, his ears turning a deep shade of red, “oh,” he gasped. Voice pitched an octave higher.
Taehyung chuckled, completely unguarded. And Jungkook looked at him like a puppy helplessly in love.
Taehyung softly smiled, “I like this expression on you, you look flustered,”
Jungkook muttered, “You’re evil.”
“So are you.” Taehyung brushed their noses with a foolish smile,
Jungkook looked at him with a mock offense before his lips broke into a grin.
Taehyung sighs. “If we do this, you know the whole college is going to have a meltdown, right?”
Jungkook groans dramatically. “Ugh. Right. Can we just… skip town? Transfer colleges? Too many asshole alphas still eyeing you.”
Taehyung laughs, leaning in. “Jealous?”
Jungkook deadpans, “Extremely.”
Then, softer, “I don’t want to share you. Not when you’ll be mine someday,”
With a smile, Taehyung's heart flutters like petals in a spring breeze. He leans in and gives Jungkook a slow, warm, and unhurried kiss on the lips.
As they break apart, Taehyung finally whispers, “I accept your courting, alpha.”
And that’s when it hits them both.
A pulse—deep and grounding.
Like something inside Taehyung’s chest unlocks and flows into Jungkook, and something just as powerful flows back into him.
His eyes widen. So do Jungkook’s.
They stumble slightly, breath catching, bodies still tangled in each other’s arms.
Jungkook’s hand comes up to touch his own chest. “Did you—did you feel that?”
Taehyung stares at him, lips parted. He nods slowly, stunned. “I… yeah.”
There’s a warmth spreading through him. A tether pulling gently at his very soul. Like Jungkook’s emotions, his presence, is inside him now. Clearer than ever. Like he was always meant to be there.
Jungkook breathes out, awe in his voice. “Did our wolves just… bond?”
Taehyung can’t speak. His eyes sting from tears. He no longer felt the pain that had been bothering him for days, weeks. The restlessness and loneliness have subsided.
With his face buried in Taehyung's shoulder, Jungkook hugs him tightly. "Oh, glitters."
Now that the tears are streaming down his face, Taehyung laughs shakily. He puts his arms around Jungkook's waist and holds on to him tightly as if he would never let go.
Three words. The three words that were almost at the tip of his tongue. He didn’t say them out loud. Not now. He knows one day he’ll get there.
But in this moment, with Jungkook’s scent wrapped around him, their bond sealed, their hearts finally echoing the same rhythm—
He thinks maybe he’s already said it.
.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧
In a daze, the dinner went by.
Stiff suits, gleaming silverware, and polite smiles that fell short of the eyes were all in a blur. Taehyung stayed still and answered when asked, speaking steadily despite his hands clenched under the table.
His father looked pleased — too pleased. The kind of ‘please’ that made Taehyung's stomach twist. Where on one hand, Jungkook’s father approached Taehyung with a surprisingly warm smile, “My son will take good care of you, trust him,” he said while patting Taehyung’s head lovingly, “He can be a menace sometimes but he had a good heart,”
“And know this—if you ever need anything… you’re a part of the Jeon family now.”
That warmth... That quiet acceptance…
It made Taehyung wanna cry from how emotional he felt.
Why did it feel more like fatherhood than anything his own father ever gave him?
When it was over, Jungho told Jungkook, “Drop him back safely,” with a smile.
Jungkook just nodded, but both of them understood the destination was not Taehyung's dorm.
Within the apartment, as soon as the front door closed, Taehyung softly sighed out, shoulders finally uncoiling. But it hardly got to be a second before Jungkook whirled and swept him off his feet.
"What the fuck—Jungkook!" Taehyung screamed, struggling a little as Jungkook bore him bridal style.
“You were walking too slow,” Jungkook remarked as he opened the bedroom door with his foot.
Dropping Taehyung on the bed, he climbed over, straddling him. Jungkook pulled Taehyung up through his neck, kissing him breathless before he even had a chance to settle himself on bed. Taehyung leaned on his elbows, his one hand carded through Jungkook’s hair, pulling onto the strands to deepen the kiss.
Jungkook's hand covered Taehyung's chest beneath the soft material of his shirt, thumbing over his nipple, extracting a gasp from him.
Taehyung lifted a brow, faintly winded. "And so this is how you're going to court me? Bed first?"
Jungkook groaned, dropping his forehead to Taehyung’s shoulder. “Fuck—tomorrow. I’ll be on my best behavior from tomorrow.”
“But tonight… Can I be selfish? Please”, He pulled back, eyes dark, desperate. “Tomorrow I’ll bring flowers and a dumb handwritten letter, but tonight - I can’t wait anymore. I want to be inside you. I want to fuck you out of your mind.”
Taehyung’s breath hitched. His toes curled. His hips rose to grind against Jungkook’s. “Then do it, alpha. Fuck me. Fuck me hard.”
And Jungkook did, so well. Minutes later Taehyung was lying on his stomach, bare legs spread for Jungkook to see. Jungkook left a trail of kisses down his spine, his firm hands gripping Taehyung's hips, pulling him back against him, to position himself right against the curve of his ass.
“God, your body…” Jungkook whispered. “Perfect.”
He kissed every bump of Taehyung’s spine. “Every inch.”
Then he pushed inside.
Taehyung cried out, the stretch making his thighs tremble as Jungkook sank inch by inch, thick and hard.
“You take me so fucking well,” Jungkook panted, rolling his hips deep.
Taehyung’s cheek was pressed into the pillow, teeth sunk into the fabric as he moaned, body moving with each thrust.
“Jungkook—fuck—you’re—deeper—”
Jungkook grunted, hips snapping faster. “Say it.”
"Every time—you ruin me—you're—fucking perfect—" Taehyung broke down in tears.
Jungkook's thrusts grew more intense and demanding as he tried his hardest to prevent his knot from getting larger, his hips slamming into Taehyung's ass and sweat pouring from his brow.
However, Taehyung's hand reached behind him to grasp at Jungkook's hip, “Please…”
Jungkook slowed, panting. “What?”
Taehyung turned his face, eyes glassy, mouth parted. “Please knot me. Stretch me up. I need your knot. Please.”
Jungkook swore harshly. “You sure?”
“Yes, alpha—fuck, please.”
Jungkook let out a primal growl, pressing down fully against Taehyung’s back, covering him completely, his hand moving to the dip below Taehyung’s navel. “Right here,” he whispered in Taehyung’s ear. “I can feel me inside you here. So fucking deep.”
Then the knot expanded, locking inside, dragging another raw cry from Taehyung as his orgasm hit like lightning, clenching around Jungkook hard enough to drag him over the edge too.
They later lay together, entangled in one another and sheets. Their breathing was the only sound in the room.
With an arm wrapped around his waist and a thumb stroking his slick skin, Jungkook lay behind Taehyung, still locked together. Taehyung's hand was idly playing with Jungkook's fingers while his head was resting on his bicep.
“Hey,” Taehyung whispered. “How… how did you get my father to agree? I was sure he already had someone else picked.”
Jungkook didn’t answer immediately. Then he pressed a soft kiss to Taehyung’s shoulder and murmured, “No one says no to Jeon Industries. Your father’s smart. He knows rejecting an offer from us would be foolish.”
Taehyung’s brows furrowed. “So I was just a part of a deal, then?”
He turned Taehyung’s face to him gently. “Glitters, no.” His voice was low, firm. “The merger was happening regardless. That was business. You—you were never part of the deal. My courting you was something I wanted… for me.”
Taehyung's breath caught. Taehyung's hair was brushed off his cheek by Jungkook.
"I would have proceeded with the merger even if you had declined. That way, your father would have no excuse to force your hand anymore. He’d have what he wanted — and I’d make sure you had your freedom.”
Taehyung stared at him.
“I didn’t court you to save you,” Jungkook said. “I did it because… I wanted to be with you. Truly. Bond or no bond, business or not. That's mine. Ours.”
Taehyung’s eyes softened. He looked down at their joined hands. He let out a shaky breath that wasn’t tight with anxiety.
His eyes searched Jungkook’s. “You’re too good at sounding sincere.”
Jungkook smiled. “That’s ‘cause I am.”
They lay back down, silence stretching between them again—but softer now. More weighted.
Taehyung hummed quietly. “You know I’m still not wearing your mark, right?”
Jungkook grinned into his skin. “That’s tomorrow’s problem.”
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It was chaos.
The moment Taehyung stepped onto the campus grounds, heads turned like dominos falling in every direction. It started small.
A gasp near the front gates. A dropped coffee cup in the quad. A junior nearly walked into a lamp post.
Because Taehyung, Kim Taehyung himself, entered the campus by himself, wearing Jeon Jungkook's hoodie and sporting soft but dishevelled hair.
It was obvious.
Black, slightly oversized on him, with the faint white #7 stitched onto the back hem. It wasn’t just any hoodie — it was the one Jungkook wore post-match victory night.
And the omega smelled like him.
Strong. Unmistakable. The thick scent of alpha musk and omega sweetness tangled together like a glowing neon sign.
“Wait, wait. Is that—”
“No way.”
“Kim Taehyung? Smelling like Jeon Jungkook? What the actual fuck?”
With his face heating up, Taehyung pulled the hoodie closer to his chin. Usually, he enjoyed being the focus of attention. He flourished there. But now?
He just wanted to disappear.
He hurried to his locker, muttering to himself, "Fucking hell," trying to ignore the scandalised stares and looks.
He heard a voice behind him as he dug through his locker.
“Well, well, well. Look who came in smelling like Jungkook’s pillow.”
Taehyung groaned, head hitting the locker. “Shut up. I already feel weird. I’m not used to this, okay?”
Jimin leaned closer, eyebrow raised. “Of course you’re not. In three years of knowing you, this is the first time you’ve let an alpha claim you this publicly.”
Taehyung hissed under his breath, “What claim? There’s no claim!”
Jimin tugged on the hoodie’s hem. “Then why are you wearing this?”
Taehyung whined, “Because it’s soft, okay? And warm. Don’t make it weird.”
Jimin snorted. “You’ve gone soft. What’s next? Matching phone cases?”
"We're not going to be like that," Taehyung emphasised as they headed to the lecture hall. “I will continue to annoy him to no end as usual. I can't let anyone take that away from me.”
However, he was interrupted as soon as he walked into his first lecture hall.
Because there was a strawberry shake, a folded letter with a tiny glitter sticker on it, and a little bouquet of wildflowers wrapped in parchment sitting on his usual desk.
Jimin looked over his shoulder. “Oh my god. No he did not.”
Taehyung snatched the letter, cheeks already red.
The handwriting was unmistakable — Jungkook’s.
Sorry I had to leave early. Practice, again. But I made the shake before I left. Fresh strawberries. No almond milk, I remembered.
You looked too pretty to leave in bed.
I’ll see you at the field later. Don’t miss me too much. Glitters’
Your alpha, Jungkook
Taehyung covered his face. “Oh my god.”
Jimin was howling. “Not be like other couples, he said.”
“Shut UP,” Taehyung elbowed him again, face flushed to his ears as he sat down and took a long sip of the shake — sweet, perfect, exactly the way he liked.
And he had his first crush on someone, feeling like he was sixteen all over again. It felt real this time, though. Like being seen, held, and cherished.
Even his one high school relationship hadn’t felt like this. He sensed something bubbly in his chest. This must be what it feels to be spoiled.
Later in the day, when the sun was already setting, Taehyung found himself walking to the practice field. He had no trouble seeing Jungkook.
The Alpha, dressed in shorts and a tank top, was running down the field in the middle of practice. His biceps were protruding as he ducked one of his own players, and his hair was a mess of sweat that stuck to his forehead.
Taehyung swallowed hard. “I’m in danger,” he muttered to himself.
His throat dried. Damn. He hated how easily this alpha could make his knees weak.
Jungkook saw him and grinned so excessively that it caused Taehyung's knees to go weak. Without warning, Jungkook bolted toward him.
Taehyung’s eyes widened. “No. No. Jungkook—don’t you dare! You’re sweaty, you stink, stay away!”
Jungkook only ran faster.
“I SWEAR TO GOD, JEON—”
But Jungkook tackled him into a spinning hug before he could escape, lifting him off the ground as Taehyung shrieked.
“You sweaty asshole!” Taehyung shrieked, half laughing, half horrified.
“You liked the flowers?” Jungkook grinned against his shoulder.
Taehyung tried (and failed) to push him away. “Yes, now put me down!”
Jungkook laughed, breathless, as he spun him one more time before setting him down. “And the shake?”
“It was perfect,” Taehyung muttered,
Before he could even catch his breath, Jungkook leant in and gave him a brief but tender kiss in front of everyone.
Around them, gasps broke out.
Yoongi, nearby with a water bottle, spat it out. “What the actual—”
Namjoon blinked rapidly. “I think I died and went to hell. There’s no way this is real.”
Taehyung pulled back with pink cheeks, playfully smacking Jungkook’s chest. “You just had to do that in front of everyone?”
Jungkook shrugged, lips still close to his. “I’m just doing what any good alpha would do. Gotta make sure they know you’re taken, Glitters.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Ugh. Gross.”
But his mouth curled up. The grin was a lie. Friends were still whispering and teammates were still gaping, but none of that mattered at the time.
Reaching up, Taehyung slowly and gently traced his fingers over Jungkook's cheek. The tiny moles that dotted his face like stars—constellations that only he could see—were followed by his thumb. However, he wrinkled his face and lightly traced over the tiny scar that lay just beneath Jungkook's right cheekbone.
"How did you get this?" he said, voice now soft, intimate.
Jungkook blinked, his arms wrapped around Taehyung's waist. He scrunched his brows, pondering.
“Uh... I think that was from when I was in fifth grade? I got into a fight with some classmates.”
Taehyung arched his brow. “Rebel since a kid, huh?” he teased. “Tsk. Bad alpha.”
Jungkook grumbled as he squeezed his chest in retaliate, “Shut up. I wasn’t being a rebel. I was helping someone.”
Taehyung’s head tilted in curiosity. Jungkook’s expression grew distant, recalling.
“There was this kid,” Jungkook began, voice lower. “I think he was new. He didn’t talk much. He always sat in the corner during lunch, holding this... scarf. Never let it go. One day a bunch of older boys cornered him. They snatched the scarf and laughed while he cried, begging for it back. I just—I got mad. I fought them off. I don’t remember much, I think I fell and hit a rock or something. That’s how I got the scar.”
Taehyung froze.
His breath caught. His fingers halted on Jungkook’s skin.
“…Which school?” he asked slowly. “Was it in Hangnam?”
Bewildered by the abrupt change, Jungkook blinked. "Yes? I believe so. How did you—?
Taehyung's gaze expanded. The realization hit him like a wave, causing his throat to bob. The bond. It had to be then.
“Oh my god,” he whispered. “It was then… It was then.”
Jungkook’s brows furrowed. “Glitters..I don't get what you are talking about,”
Taehyung's eyes glistened as he gazed at him. “That kid… that kid was me, Jungkook,” he choked out, laughing softly and watery.
Jungkook's jaw dropped. “No way.”
“I’m serious,” Taehyung nodded, voice cracking. “That scarf was my mom’s. She had just passed away that month. I kept it with me everywhere because... because it still smelled like her. It made me feel like she was there, holding me still.”
Jungkook’s arms tightened instinctively, and something heavy sat on both their hearts.
“I never forgot that moment,” Taehyung murmured. “That kid who stepped in and fought for me. I never even knew his name, but I remember thinking he smelled safe… that he felt safe. Like her.”
Jungkook’s voice dropped, awed. “I can’t believe we’ve known each other that long. I mean—sort of.”
“I guess you transferred schools after, right?” Taehyung smiled through his tears. “And the universe decided to bring you back to me.”
Jungkook’s grin grew, bright and warm. “Guess so. Universe did a good one this time.”
He leaned in again and pressed a soft kiss to Taehyung’s lips—no hunger, no urgency. Just something full of knowing. Like kissing someone you’ve already met a thousand lifetimes ago.
Taehyung kissed him back, eyes closed and heart open, Thank you. For finding me again.
Jungkook nuzzled against him, murmuring against his lips, “I hate you.”
Taehyung laughed through the tears. “I hate you too.”
“I hate you” had become their unspoken promise—not quite love yet, but the quiet knowing that someday, they'd face everything together, would be beside each other no matter what circumstances are. And somewhere along the way, they'd fall deeper, harder… that 'someday' was not that far now.
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