Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The field was alive — throbbing with energy, lit under golden hour light, and crackling with the sheer chaos of competition day.

Music blasted through the bleachers as the whole stadium sang along to it. The whole place emitted a scent of excitement, sweat from heat, and artificial sugary drinks being sold by the stands. Screams resonated everywhere, with students raising their banners - with big bold letters - high up in the air. Cheeky slogans and team chants being yelled through the loud music.

Then, like a burst of color cutting through the roar, they entered.

The cheerleading squad.

A sea of glitter, bright colors, crop tops and pleated skirts, pom-poms flashing under the sun. They moved with a bounce in steps, confident. And in the centre of it, stood Kim Taehyung - with his trademark wink and grin, leading the squad through the field.

He twirled once.
Split clean to the ground in one fluid motion.
The crowd lost it .

“ Taehyung, I love you! ” someone shouted from the stands.
“ Please be mine! ”
“ Those LEGS— ”

The opening routine included flips, tumbles, and a chant timed on the music. Taehyung had charm to burn; every movement of his was full of finesse and bite.

At the conclusion of the routine, the football players ran on the field while the cheerleaders stood on either side of the field, forming a pom-pom tunnel for them. The cheers went soaring once again above the campus..

With the players getting onto the ground, the crowd only roared louder. Everyone cheering for their respective teams.

And then it began. The coin toss went to the home team.

Captain Jeon Jungkook caught the coin mid-air, tossed it high again like a show of flair, and smirked when it landed in his favor.

The first play began — it was a rush of bodies moving around, pushing into each other, sidetracking and trying to score a goal. But everyone in the audience could see who was faster and within minutes, the home team scored. Then again. And again.

By halftime, the score read 6–0.

The cheerleaders returned in the midst of the halftime routine. The routine was followed by the cheer of encouragement, running cartwheels along the field of play, followed by an elaborate pyramid with Taehyung at the top with arms stretched out and wearing that beaming smile of his. 

And as he blew a flying kiss to the stands, the screams was instant.

Whistles. Screams.
“ You look so good today, Tae!! ”
“ Give us a spin, cheer prince!! ”
“ Flaunt it, baby!! ”

Taehyung winked, hopping down effortlessly and smoothing his skirt back into place — when he heard it:

“You call that a routine?”

It came from just behind him. Familiar voice. Unmistakable tone.

Well, Taehyung in general was a very generous and kind person, it was very easy to make him happy and to be on his good side. But .. but if there was one person Taehyung couldn’t stand, it was Jeon Jungkook. 

He turned, lips twitching in a barely-contained sneer. There he stood.

Sweat dripping down, his jersey clinging to his chiseled chest, his drenched hair curling at his forehead, and his jaw as sharp as glass. The captain of the home team. Jeon Jungkook.

He glared as if the sun had offended him, cradling his helmet under one arm.

Of course, he had Taehyung at the center of his attention.

Taehyung's brows rose with theatrical offense. “I’m sorry, is our captain feeling left out?”

Jungkook smirked. “Just saying. Bit too much sparkle, not enough skill. Looks like a glitter parade”

“This ‘glitter parade’ is the only reason people stay after halftime, golden retriever.” Despite the fact that some football players and cheerleaders were assembling to listen in, Taehyung crossed his arms. "Maybe you would score if you focused more on strategy and less on striking a pose for the fans."

Jungkook took a step forward, his eyes bright with challenge. “We’re winning with 6–0”

“Sure, but only because the other team’s defense is playing like wet noodles.” Taehyung rolled his eyes, flipping his hair back with a flourish. “Try that smug face again when you’re fumbling your ball in the next half.”

A few people snorted behind them. Jungkook’s jaw ticked, a muscle jumping as he took another step closer. Taehyung didn't budge.

The tension between them — thick, electric, familiar. Like a static before a lightning strike.

"I swear, Kim," Jungkook grumbled under his breath hotly, "one day you will choke on those words."

"Only if you're lucky, Jeon," said Taehyung, leaning towards him all smirking.

With the smile that spelled sin and with his hips all swaying, Taehyung went back to his squad. Holding his helmet tighter than ever in one clutch, Jungkook's heart began to roar louder than the applause from the stands, he stood looking at his retreating figure of the omega.

The cheer team and football team collectively sighed. The entire college knew about them. 

Taehyung — the sharp-tongued, smug, ridiculously flexible omega cheerleader captain with too much eyeliner and an attitude that could cut steel. 

Jungkook — the golden alpha, football team captain, with too much bicep, too much ego, and too much everything. Fast on the field and faster with comebacks, especially when Taehyung was in earshot. 

The two captains that hated each other. They argued about everything. Practice areas, locker room schedules, and even who took the last soda can from the vending machine.

````

There was an abrupt change in intensity as the second half of the game began. With his eyes burning, his jaw clenched, and his fists flexed around the football as if it were something personal, Jungkook returned to the field like a man possessed.

And maybe it was.

Because every time his cleats hit the turf, every calculated dash, every aggressive pass, every dodge, was aimed at one thing — proving Kim Taehyung wrong .

He didn’t let the opposing team breathe. The moment their fingers touched the ball, it was ripped away. And Taehyung, standing on the sidelines with his pom-poms slack and his lips slightly parted, watched .

Watched as Jungkook scored. Again. And again.

Watched as the crowd screamed his name like a war cry.

"JEON JUNGKOOK! JEON JUNGKOOK!"

The final whistle blew.

The home team had won. A crushing, merciless, undisputed victory.

The stadium erupted. Students swarmed the field. The trophy was handed off to the team captain.

Jungkook took it with that same smug, maddening smile — teeth sharp, chin tilted. Cameras flashed as he held it high.

Then, eyes locked with Taehyung across the chaos, he turned slightly… And kissed the trophy. Slow. Smirking. Taunting.

Taehyung’s eye twitched.

“Oh, fuck off ,” he muttered, flipping back the hair falling over his forehead and turning away, ignoring the heat crawling up his neck.

````````

Later that night. The frat house was alive. Lit with neon lights and filled with smoke, bass, and drunken cheers. Bodies moved, danced, stumbled. Plastic cups sloshed. Someone had already passed out on the stairs. Another was singing off-key on the couch.

At the center of it all — Jeon Jungkook took in all the pleasantries. Frat leader. Game winner. Campus golden boy.

Very proud and confident of his winning. He smiled with a mischievous grin, sporting a loose tie collar and sleeves rolled up. Music throbbing on his name, alphas and betas slapping his back in appreciation, while omegas gazed at him with hungry looks. Just one smile of his made the omegas weak on the knees, his aura so magnetic, you can’t resist the pull.

“Shot for the champ!” someone yelled, and Jungkook grinned as he knocked one back, the burn sliding down his throat like fire and pride.

But then the crowd parted just enough to reveal him on the other side of the house.

Kim Taehyung.

All legs and swagger, in the tight jeans and sheer shirt that shone in the multicoloured lights. Dewy skin spotlighted, glistening lips, curly hair; the scent is a heady blend of come-on sexuality with good-natured camaraderie.

Leaning over the ping pong table, cackling with narrowed eyes, he launched a precise flick of the wrist to make the ball roll fly the table. It dropped into the cup and a round of cheers went up. His opponent — a hopeful beta with a flushed face — nearly swooned.

“Drink up, baby,” Taehyung purred, batting his lashes.

Around him, a small swarm of admirers lingered — alphas and betas alike. Hands hovering close. Compliments flowing like alcohol.

“Your hair looks insane tonight, Tae—”
“Want me to get you another drink?”
“You should model. Seriously.”

Taehyung let it all happen. This was his element too. The center of attention. The most beautiful omega on campus. The untouchable.

And these parties? The only time he allowed the rest of the campus to approach him.

He let them flirt. Let them laugh. Let them think they had a chance. Because Taehyung liked attention. He liked being desired. Liked knowing people wanted him.

But only one pair of eyes made his skin heat. And not in a good way. The kind of heat that made him want to poke those eyes out so it could stop feeling like this.

And Jungkook — who had just tilted his head to take another shot — caught him looking.

Their eyes locked across the crowd. Just for a second.

Jungkook’s smirk widened. He tipped the empty shot glass toward Taehyung like a salute. A move to provoke the omega, letting him know the alpha was the highlight of the night.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, pretending to yawn. “Someone tell the frat leader not to choke on his own ego,” he muttered under his breath.

Jungkook was still watching. Still burning a hole through the crowd just for him.

Suddenly, there came loud whistles and uneven-slurred cheers from the bar area. Phones came out, some even climbed atop couches to get the best view as the crowd was moving like a wave.

Even Taehyung and Jungkook turned their heads toward the ruckus while still harshly peering at each other from opposite corners of the room.

“Body shots!”

“Holy shit, is that—”

“Is it Yoongi and Jimin again?”

Taehyung when heard the calls, smiled in amusement, while pushing through the crowd. Jungkook, who's equally curious, followed not far behind. And sure enough, there they were.

Park Jimin, Taehyung’s best friend and the most charming of all among the omegas on campus, was currently bent over Min Yoongi, the third-year football player, licking salt from his toned abs. Jimin took the shot and a wink at the crowd, before biting the lemon wedge Yoongi held in his mouth.

The room howled as Yoongi, with zero hesitation, pulled Jimin up by the waist and dragged him into a heated kiss, deep and dirty and unapologetic. The kind that turned heads and turned on everyone.

Taehyung smiles warmly, "Always the theatrics," laughing softly to himself, cheeks rosy from the drink as he drank slowly from his cup.

The pair still wrapped up in each other's arms in the middle of all that commotion got yet another wail from the gathered crowd at the bar, this one louder.

Jimin, resting in Yoongi's lap with chin buried over the elder's shoulder, was laughing, rosy cheeks glowing from the booze. His lipstick was smeared from a brusque kiss. The public's demands for an encore were garnered with a lazy arm around Jimin's waist from Yoongi and one other holding yet another shot glass.

Jimin leant back proudly and licked his lips before whispering, "God, you're such a menace," as he brushed Yoongi's sweaty fringe away from his forehead. His voice rose above the music. "People, that's how you do a body shot! Make notes.”

His arm shot up and wrapped snugly around Taehyung’s waist, pulling the cheer captain close.

“And my bestie?” Jimin purred, pressing his cheek to Taehyung’s arm while smirking up at him. “He was born for this. Who wants to challenge Kim Taehyung?”

Then someone from the crowd, emboldened and drunk, called out—

“Ayo, where’s our team captain’s shot?! Come on, Jeon, tradition!”

And then like a ripple, everyone screamed together in agreement. Taehyung blinked in disbelief and then narrowed his eyes in search for the idiot in the crowd, who even suggested such stupidity. But before he could speak—

“Please.”

The one-word with a scoff sliced through the noise like a knife. Jungkook. Voice smooth. Smirk cocky. Eyes fixed only on him.

“He’d be too scared to do it.”

Taehyung turned slowly, already feeling his hackles rise.”Me? Scared?” He huffed,

Jungkook gave a ignorant shrug, “Yeah. Scared that your secret crush on me will be outed the moment I get my mouth anywhere near you.”

The crowd gasped. Laughed. Whistled.

But Taehyung? He just stared. Then gave the most disgusted face anyone had ever seen.

“Oh, Jeon,” he drawled, stepping closer, voice dangerously sweet. “You are so high on your own testosterone you don’t even realize I’m way out of your league.”

He let his gaze travel slowly — head to toe. Smirked.

“Stop dreaming of having me. It’s making you look... desperate .”

A slow "oooohhh" echoed across the crowd.

Jungkook’s jaw tensed. His smile never dropped, but the gleam in his eyes darkened. Dangerous. Challenging. “Just say you are tryna excuse yourself”

Taehyung raised an elegant brow. “Oh... well then let's do it.”

And then, without breaking eye contact, he plucked a shot glass from someone’s hand. Took a lemon wedge. And moved to the center bar counter. The crowd parted for him.

He laid back atop the cool surface, sheer crop top sliding up just enough to reveal smooth golden skin. He sprinkled salt along the hollow of his neck — right between the collarbones. A slow, sensual act. All eyes followed his fingers.

Then, slipping the lemon wedge between his lips, he tilted his head, locking eyes with Jungkook.

Without words, he raised the shot glass and rested it on his stomach — right above his navel.

Challenge. Issued.

The crowd roared. Cheers. Claps. Whistles.

Yoongi simply raised a brow at Taehyung, amused.  “Don’t disappoint us now, Captain” he said, voice lazy and teasing, his eyes staring at his captain, who stood across the crowd, muscles tense beneath his sleeveless shirt.

The golden alpha. Watched. Matched the glare with the omega. The flicker in his eyes said everything. He didn’t think Taehyung would actually do it.

But he had his pride too, so Jungkook stepped forward. The music seemed to fade around them, tension humming in the space between.

He didn’t hurry. Didn’t smirk. Didn’t say anything smart. He just moved — like a storm gathering under the surface — quiet, intense, inevitable.

Jimin clung to Yoongi, whispering, “Oh my god. Oh my god . They really doing it. Tell me I’m not dreaming.”

Yoongi huffed a soft laugh, sipping from his beer. “Your best friend is a problem,” he muttered. But he didn’t look away.

Jungkook stopped beside the bar. His eyes dipped down slowly — taking in Taehyung laid out like a sinful offering. Those dark strands falling over his forehead. That goddamn lemon wedge resting between his perfect lips. That glittering skin.

He bent down.

But he didn’t touch.

Not a single finger grazed Taehyung’s waist, or his hips, or the counter - as he rested his palms on his both sides. Instead, he dipped low, so low that his nose brushed Taehyung’s collarbone.

And then— His tongue dragged. One slow, deliberate lick across the salted skin — hot and wet and so close to Taehyung’s neck it made a girl nearby gasp aloud.

Taehyung didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. But his fingers curled slightly around the edge of the bar.

Next, Jungkook lifted just enough of his head to tilt the shot glass resting on Taehyung's stomach back, swallowing as his throat bobbed, the tension between them never having once dissipated.

And finally — He dipped again. This time, for the lemon wedge. Taehyung’s lashes fluttered just once. Their lips brushed.

Not a kiss. Not a graze. Just—A burn of contact. A brush of possibility.

Then Jungkook’s mouth opened, wider, his tongue sweeping seductively and slowly between Taehyung’s lips and curling against the lemon, sliding it away, only to be bitten by a flick of his jaw. 

Taehyung stayed still. But his pupils had blown wide. Just a fraction. Just enough.

The crowd erupted.

Screams. Cheers. A few dramatic collapses from swooning onlookers.

But the two men didn’t hear them. Didn’t look at anyone else. 

The scents in the room were neutral — no arousal, no spike of pheromones. No one could smell lust from the two.

But everyone could feel it.

That magnetic field. That dangerous buzz. That razor-edge tension of something being held back .

Jungkook stepped back and let the rind fall to the ground.

With grace, Taehyung pretended to brush off some nonexistent dust from his thigh and slid down from the counter. He blinked slowly and then, turned around to give Jungkook a lazy smirk.

“Well, now we both know you’re still not worth the hype,” he said with a smirk.

Jungkook leaned closer, licking a drop of tequila from his own bottom lip. “Not my fault if you can’t hold a wedge properly.”

“Oof,” Jimin whispered with a huff, clutching Yoongi harder. “They didn't kiss.”

Yoongi chuckled, deadpan. “Don't worry. They’re gonna fuck. Soon.”

But the rest of the night passed in pretend indifference.

The music was louder. The drinks stronger. The party wilder. And somewhere in the crowd, Jeon Jungkook had an omega dancing on him — gorgeous, confident, lips trailing along his jaw, grinding against him like the beat was a command.

Jungkook let it happen. Let the omega press closer, tug at his shirt, moan into his neck.

But his eyes? His eyes never strayed from across the room.

Kim Taehyung — who was currently slow dancing with a tall, broad-shouldered alpha who had his hand way too low on Taehyung’s back. The alpha leaned in, whispered something, kissed Taehyung’s neck.

Taehyung smiled lazily, draping his arms around his admirer, letting the attention soak in.

But every now and then — his gaze would flick.

To the other side of the dancefloor.

To him .

To Jungkook.

Neither's scent gave away a thing. They were both infuriatingly in control.

But their eyes? Their eyes told a story.

If Jeon Jungkook later disappeared upstairs with that omega, letting the crowd assume what they would…

And if Taehyung left the house with the hand of that alpha pressed to the small of his back, whispering his plans for the night into his ear and laughing at something he didn’t hear…

Then no one needed to know the truth.

That even as lips touched their skin, they were only thinking of one another.

No. Not in lust. But in hatred.

As they liked to believe so. 

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

Even though summer was at its height and the sun was up, the college was already a hive of activity.

Caffeine-fueled chatter filled the lecture hall, the kind of energy that comes from gossiping too much and sleeping too little.

Laughter. Whispers. Scrolling fingers on glowing phone screens.

The name on everyone’s tongue?

Taehyung and Jungkook.

“Oh my god, it’s all over Insta.”
“Did you see the video of the body shot?”
“They looked like they were about to eat each other.”
“I swear I didn’t even breathe while watching it—”

At the back row, Kim Taehyung slumped into his seat, oversized cardigan barely hiding the sheer crop top underneath. His legs were crossed, foot tapping in irritation.

Beside him, Seokjin scrolled through his phone, lips twisted in amusement.

“You know social media is still in meltdown over you and Jungkook, right?” he said casually, turning his screen to show an edited video reel: slowed down, overdramatic music, zooming in on Jungkook licking the salt from Taehyung’s collarbone.

Taehyung groaned, burying his face in his sleeve.

“Can’t two people pretend to tolerate each other without the world calling it a sex tape?”

Jin raised a brow. “Oh baby, that wasn’t pretending. That was foreplay . Clearly a moment happening there,”

Taehyung scoffed, face still half-hidden. “There was no moment , okay? Just me refusing to let that alpha’s ego inflate any further. If anything, I was doing a public service .”

From the seat beside him, Jimin leaned in, resting his chin on his palm with a gleam in his eye.

“Sure,” he said sweetly, “except your omega was this close to crawling into his lap and purring.”

“ Excuse me? ” Taehyung whipped around.

“Don’t lie, Tae. You can fool everyone else. But I know what your scent does when you’re turned on. You were suppressing so hard I could smell the mint from your scent blocker through your skin. ”

Taehyung shoved at him with a scandalized look. “You’re my best friend! You’re supposed to support me, not spew nonsense!”

“I am supporting you. I’m supporting your truth — which is that you wanted him to pin you against that counter so badly, you practically arched into him.”

“I wanted to tear him to shreds , Jimin. Shreds!”

Meanwhile, out on the practice field, sweat-drenched bodies jogged in rhythm, the morning air crisp with grass and exertion.

Jeon Jungkook, was already on his third lap, breaths coming out in small puffs.

But the scowl on his face? Unmissable.

A few of the boys exchanged glances, slowing just enough to whisper.

“Do you think he’s still pissed about last night?”
“Or just pissed he didn’t get to take him home?”
“Seriously, the tension is worse than final’s game.”

Jungkook slowed, turning sharply with a glare.

“Can you all shut up for two minutes?”

The team froze mid-step.

“I don’t even get why people are obsessed with that omega,” he grumbled, kicking at a stray ball, hard. “He’s...he’s loud, and dramatic.”

Namjoon strolled up with a dry chuckle. “It’s been two years , man. Two years of you two fighting like street dogs. At this point, even the professors are betting on who makes the first move.”

“He’s not special ,” Jungkook growled, ignoring the snickers. “If anything, I want to knock that smug expression off his face. That’s it.”

Yoongi, stretching nearby, chimed in with a snort. “Right. That’s why you stared at his waist the entire routine.”

“I did not.”

“You did. ”

Namjoon raised a brow. “Listen, I don’t care if you want to pin him or punch him, but either way—your scent blocker ain’t masking everything , bro.”

Jungkook scoffed. “Please. The whole college needs their noses checked. If they think this is sexual tension, they clearly don’t know the difference between wanting to jump someone’s bones and wanting to break them .”

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°

In the class, Seokjin looked at Taehyung sideways, arms crossed. “You’ve been fighting him for so long , even I forgot what you hate about him. What is it really?”

While at the fields, Namjoon asked Jungkook the same thing, a raised brow. “Seriously. What do you even hate about him that much ?”

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°

Taehyung whipped around toward the group like he was delivering a monologue on stage.

“His hair!” he exploded, gesturing wildly to his own perfectly styled waves. “Why does it always look wet? It’s annoying.”

He gave a fake, exaggerated laugh, complete with an eye-roll and finger twirl. “And his laugh — snorts mid-sentence like a cartoon villain. Who does that??”

As if that weren’t enough, his nose scrunched like he’d smelled spoiled milk. “And then he has, like, three different colognes. I know. I’ve suffered . And he still chooses that citrusy one that clashes so bad with his natural scent— makes it stink worse , I swear.”

Jimin tried to hold in his laughter. Jin gave up and started recording.

Meanwhile, on the field Jungkook, slick with sweat and frustration, paused mid-sprint, throwing his towel on the grass with a dramatic sigh.

“You guys wanna know what pisses me off?” he growled, not even waiting for an answer.

Namjoon muttered, “You know what, actually not really.”

Too late. Jungkook was already pointing at his own eyes , incredulous.

“His eyeliner —does he sharpen it with a dagger? What does he think this is? A fencing match?!”

Yoongi blinked. “Do you... even know what a fencing match is?”

But Jungkook was on a roll. He huffed out a laugh, rubbing his face like this was causing him real pain.

“And his winks , bro. They don’t even have a purpose. He’ll wink when no one asks. Like—someone says good morning, and he’s like—”
He mimicked a squinty, suggestive wink with finger guns.
“Who does that?! His flirty remarks are even more ridiculous than that,”

Then came the final offense.

“And he—he corrected my form . During squats . My squats. I’ve had this ass since middle school, I think I know what I’m doing!”

The rest of the team burst into unfiltered laughter.

Back in the classroom, Jimin just stared. “Tae, you do realize none of those are actual reasons, right? That’s like...bickering over chopstick brands.”

Taehyung crossed his arms, chin up, proud. “I have standards , Jimin. And Jeon Jungkook fails all of them.”

Back on the field, Yoongi rolled his eyes. “You’re just horny and emotionally stunted.”

Jungkook didn’t even hesitate—he launched his towel directly at Yoongi’s head.

“I’m fine ,” he grumbled. “And the only thing I’m stunted by is the constant dumbassery around here.”

Taehyung, sinking back into his seat with an aggressive hair flip, thought bitterly:
These people are delusional. Absolutely out of their minds. If only they could see the actual hatred in my eyes when I look at Jeon freaking Jungkook.

Jungkook, ripping off his jersey and throwing it into the equipment bin like it personally insulted him, glared toward the gymnasium building in the distance.

They’re all wrong. I don’t wanna touch him. I wanna choke him. And not in the sexy way.

But even as both fumed in their corners of campus, neither of them noticed the way their heart rates were just slightly faster . The way the scent blockers were used extra generously that morning.

Because maybe, just maybe ... everyone else wasn’t as delusional as they thought.

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

It wasn’t always this way.

Back then, they were just two rookies—fresh into their respective teams, too busy trying to prove themselves to spare attention for the other.

Maybe they’d nodded in passing during gym warmups. A “hey” here, a “later” there. That was it.

But then that day happened.

Rain was falling.

Jungkook's captain benched him for an error that wasn't his fault, and a guest trainer had literally broke down Taehyung's choreography in front of everyone.

Both of them were furious. And unfortunately, they both ended up in the gym’s shared training space at the same damn time.

The tension was practically static in the air.

“Can we please change the music,” Taehyung requested to his squad member who nodded and walked over to the stereo to change the song to one of Taehyung’s favourite tracks.

Though the Alpha was not at all in mood for it.

“I said no techno remixes during cooldown!” Jungkook barked from the weights section, wiping sweat off his jaw.

“And I say your taste in music is garbage!” Taehyung shouted across the gym floor, stomping over to the speaker in his compression leggings and cropped hoodie.

He pulled out the speaker cord and plugged in his phone.

A few seconds and the walls erupted from Beyoncé.

Jungkook stood up from his squat set like a storm cloud forming.

“Are you insane ? You just hijacked my session.”

Taehyung flipped his hair. “I’m elevating the energy. You’re welcome.”

Jungkook marched over and yanked the cord again, replacing it with his own phone.

Now it was aggressive EDM. Bass loud enough to make hearts skip.

“Oh, for f—” Taehyung shoved his hand against Jungkook’s chest. “Your music sounds like a robot dying.”

“You look like a robot dying when you try to dance,” Jungkook snapped, not even flinching under Taehyung’s shove.

“Say that again, jockstrap.”

“Happy to,” Jungkook growled. “You. Can’t. Dance.”

Taehyung shrieked. “I teach the team choreography!”

“You teach them how to throw tantrums in sync!”

The whole room was reeking of angry pheromones. Before either could throw a dumbbell, Hoseok darted in between them like a referee.

“HEY—HEY! Stop! ” he shoved himself between them. “I’m putting you two on separate gym shifts. Starting now!”

They both backed away, breathing heavily, glaring murder.

And that was it.

No apology. No handshake.

Just two boys who had bad days... and accidentally decided each other was the perfect punching bag.

Since then?

It became their thing .

Neither remembered why it started anymore. But they remembered how good it felt to let it all out—on each other . And once that became a habit, they never looked back.

They hated each other.

At least, that’s what they told everyone.

Their fights were legendary. From petty squabbles over gym schedules to full-blown shouting matches about who had more school spirit.

“You’re the reason my team can’t concentrate,” Taehyung snapped one day, flipping his hair as he walked past the football field. “Can’t throw a ball to save your life.”

“Yeah? At least I don’t wear glitter and call it a sport,” Jungkook had shot back, smirking as his teammates laughed.

You’d think that with time, titles, and campus-wide respect, they'd grow up.

But no.

With Taehyung now the cheer squad’s captain, and Jungkook crowned football’s captain alpha, they were in their second year now. Their fights somehow evolved— sharper , wittier , charged like an exposed wire in water.

People thought they were rivals .

Enemies.

Opposites fated to clash.

But that idea began to crack the day Taehyung found his locker blocked by a familiar gym bag.

He stopped short, sneakers squeaking on the tile, sweat sticking to his lower back after practice.

“Move it,” Taehyung snapped, already sharp-tongued, toweling off his damp neck.

Jungkook didn’t even turn around.

Still leaning against the lockers like he owned the hallway, he replied coolly, “Say ‘please’.”

Taehyung gave him a flat look. “Please, oh great and humble quarterback, let the lowly cheerleader through so he can access his fucking masacara to stab in your eyes,”

Jungkook didn’t move. Instead, he stepped closer.

Pressed a palm to the locker beside Taehyung’s head, effectively caging him in.

A hush fell across the hallway as a few stragglers paused mid-step, holding their breath.

They thought a fight would break out. Fists would fly.

Instead— Taehyung's pupils flared.

His omega scent—normally sweet, peachy with a cool undertone—spiked, just a bit . The barest whiff. His fucking dominance kink. 

It wasn’t enough for most people to detect.

But Jungkook? He caught it. His muscles tightened the second his nose caught the sweet smell.

His own musky madden scent heightened into dark spice - responding almost involuntarily to the intoxicant smell coming from the omega.

For a suspended second, they both froze, stunned at the mutual trigger.

Too close. Too reactive. Too much.

Taehyung’s lashes fluttered for half a second too long.

Jungkook's gaze dipped to Taehyung's hoodie, then to his lips, throat, and collarbone. Breaths mixed as their chests rose and fell in tense sync.

Then - as though burned - they both jerked back.

Jungkook straightened with a clenched jaw.

Taehyung slammed his locker open like nothing had happened.

But it was too late.

Everyone watching?

They finally realized.

“Pent-up sexual frustration,” Jimin muttered to Seokjin later, sipping from a water bottle. “They just need to fuck already.”

But when confronted, Taehyung scoffed like the audacity was physically offensive.

“I would never touch that oversized meathead,” he snapped, stuffing his towel into his duffel.

And then the teasing began. Their friends had started whispering— Yoongi once said it was all unresolved sexual tension. Jungkook almost threw his phone at him.

All this only made them hate each other more. They found it revolting how they could let the other’s scent affect them, especially in front of everyone. They only became more open their dislike for each other

A week later during practice. A sweaty Taehyung, with damp curls clinging to his forehead and a hoodie tied over his slim waist, met Jungkook - the alpha who looked tired from running laps.

They both reached the water fountain at the same time.

Taehyung stepped forward.

Jungkook elbowed in. “Back of the line, Sparkle.”

“You reek like wet testosterone,” Taehyung said, cringing. “Ever heard of deodorant?”

Jungkook smirked. “You’re just mad your scent flared up when I cornered you.”

Taehyung froze, eyes snapping to him.

“I did not—”

“Oh, you so did. Almost triggered your heat, didn’t I?”

“It’s not heat, it’s hatred.” His jaw tightened.

Jungkook leaned closer, mouth curved. “Sure. Hate me harder then, baby.”

Taehyung’s eyes went wide, fury glowing beneath his lashes.

“You’re impossible!”

“Hot,” Jungkook corrected, tongue swiping his bottom lip.

They were breathing heavy, shoulders rising, noses almost brushing.

Neither moved.

The air between them sizzled.

Then—

“I would rather chew glass than ever sleep with you,” Taehyung declared, voice high with stubborn dignity.

“Good,” Jungkook growled. “Because if you were the last omega on Earth, I’d still pass.”

They stormed off in opposite directions.

But their hearts?

Still beat in sync.

Fast. Heated. Confused.

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

Now, it was their final year .

Some people still bet money on them finally snapping and making out in a hallway. Others had given up entirely and started vying for their chances with either captain. Though only few had been lucky.

Neither Jeon Jungkook nor Kim Taehyung dated anyone longer than two weeks in the last two years. Two very short-lived flings. Zero attachments. Zero repeats.

A pretty face here. A good kisser there.

But neither stuck.

Taehyung walked back from the café toward his class building, iced americano in one hand, Seokjin chattering beside him as always.

He looked good . Freshly showered, hair tousled, lips slightly swollen from last night, sheer crop hoodie draped lazily over tight black jeans. A vision, really.

“I had a good night,” Taehyung said, tone wounded. “A great night actually. I was in a good mood. Jin. And then those goddamn whispering nobodies behind me had to ruin it with their dumbass ‘Sexual tension’ theories.”

Seokjin hummed, faux innocent. “Was the alpha good?”

Taehyung took a sip before shrugging. “Decent. Might see him again after classes. He was funny. Had… skills.”

Jin grinned. “So what you’re saying is he had stamina.”

“God, Seokjin —”

“I’m just trying to support your exploration.”

Taehyung laughed, shaking his head.

But then Seokjin tilted his head and asked, way too lightly, “You do remember who your next class is with, right?”

Taehyung paused.

Blink. Blink.

“...Oh f—nope.” He groaned, throwing his head back. “Nope. I refuse to ruin my day with him. ”

“Are you skipping again?”

“Yes,” Taehyung said instantly. “Let’s go practice that new routine instead. The one with the lift.”

“You sure? You’re a little behind in that class—”

“I’ll catch up. I’m excellent at bullshitting essays. Now come on—”

But the gym wasn’t empty.

Of course, because karma’s a bitch and Taehyung had terrible luck, he was there.

Leaning against a foam roller, sweat-darkened shirt clinging to his back, tattoos peeking from under rolled-up sleeves…

Jeon Jungkook.

And not alone.

Some omega—flirty, giggly, typical—stood too close, tracing the ink on his forearm with one manicured finger. She flicked his damp bangs off his forehead with an annoying laugh.

He let her.
Worse. He chuckled.

And it wasn’t just any omega.

It was the same one from last night. The one Jungkook had wandered off with when Taehyung was walking out with another alpha.

Since when did Jeon “One-Night” Jungkook let a hook-up stick around?

Taehyung didn’t realize he was glaring until Seokjin gently elbowed him.

“Uh oh.”

“What?” Taehyung asked, distracted.

“Red alert,” Jin muttered.

“I’m not jealous,” Taehyung hissed instantly, because that’s what Seokjin was definitely thinking. “I’m disgusted. ”

"I didn't even say you were," Seokjin sighed, amused. “though Right. Totally. Because you always get disgusted by Jungkook smiling.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. “He doesn’t even smile like that. It’s fake. You can see it.”

Jin bit his lip. “Mmhmm. The arch of his left eyebrow gave it away, huh?”

“Exactly,” Taehyung said too fast. Then blinked. “Wait—shut up.”

Across the room, Jungkook looked up.

Their eyes locked.

Taehyung stiffened, heart skipping—and cursed his body for reacting at all.

Jungkook’s mouth curved just slightly .

Then, casually, the alpha leaned closer to the omega girl. Close enough that she giggled again, face red.

Taehyung’s jaw clenched so hard, he thought it might crack. He spun on his heel while taking off his sweater - feeling suddenly too hot under the cloth.

“You can’t just strip in front of people to mark territory!” Seokjin called after him.

“I’m not—UGH.” With his hips swaying much more violently than was necessary, Taehyung stomped away.

The omega girl returned to the opposite side, smiling flirtatiously as she waved good-bye to Jungkook.

Yoongi walked up, towel slung over his shoulder, and jabbed an elbow into Jungkook’s ribs.

“You did that on purpose.”

Jungkook blinked, deadpan. “Did what?”

“You were performing for your biggest fan.” He nodded subtly toward the door Taehyung had disappeared through.

Jungkook scoffed. “Please. If anyone needs to be knocked down a peg, it’s that over-eyelinered omega.”

“Right. That’s why you kept looking at the gym door every time it opened.”

“I did not.”

“You did. And don’t think I didn’t notice how you just so happened to be shirtless the moment he walked in last week.”

“I was sweaty,” Jungkook said through gritted teeth.

“Mmhmm. And your new tattoo? Totally not positioned right where he’d look first.”

Jungkook didn’t answer. Just glared down at his towel.

But Yoongi caught it.

That brief flick of Jungkook’s eyes. To the door. To the place where Taehyung had been.

Yoongi smirked. “Thought so.”

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

Taehyung had been off all day. 

Moody. Irritated. All jittery. His head was aching, his skin was sensitive, and the faintest noise frayed his nerves. That mood was so off that not even the sight of his favorite strawberry shake could set him right.

"Are you okay?" Seokjin had inquired at lunch, his eyebrows somehow knitted into a concerned crease.

"I'm fine," Taehyung's reply had come a little too harshly and with it instant remorse setting in afterward.

He wasn’t fine.

The ache behind his eyes had grown into a full-body itch by the time the sun began to set. His limbs ached, breath too shallow, and when his trainer casually told him to “check the new shipment in the equipment room,” Taehyung wanted to scream. He wanted to go home, strip off every layer, and curl up in a blanket with something soft against his cheek.

But his trainer looked serious.

So he dragged himself down the hallway, barely noting how empty the building had gotten. Most of the college was already cleared out—just the sound of a mop bucket rolling somewhere and the buzz of the vending machine lights humming in the corridor.

"Damn day just won't end," he muttered, rubbing his temple.

Blinking into the faint light, he pushed open the door to the equipment room. A few crates were partially opened, and boxes were piled high on the metal shelves.

And then—

A scent.

Musky, woodsy, with a warm, spicy undertone. Alpha.

Taehyung’s head snapped up, eyes wide.

Jungkook.

Standing at the far end of the room near the mats, sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed as he opened another box.

Taehyung scowled immediately. “What are you doing here?”

Jungkook didn’t even look surprised. He scoffed. “Didn’t exactly volunteer. Coach told me to help sort this shit.”

Taehyung groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Of course. Because my day wasn’t bad enough already.”

They both muttered curses under their breath and returned to ignoring each other, the silence between them sharp and loud.

But with every breath Taehyung took… he could smell Jungkook.

Why the hell wasn’t he wearing scent blockers today?

His jaw clenched.

Maybe the alpha was just proud of his damn conquest. Still reeking of the omega from last night—flowery and cloying, like fake vanilla perfume. Even from across the room, Taehyung could smell her on him.

It made something churn in his gut.

He bent down to open a box and— fuck.
A bead of sweat dripped from his neck down to his collarbone.

The room wasn’t hot.

The AC was on. He even glanced at the wall unit. It buzzed softly, green light glowing.

So why did it feel like his skin was burning?

Why did every breath feel like he was breathing wrong?

His knees wobbled slightly. His palms felt clammy. His head spun.

And then—

“Shit.”

A harsh voice behind him. A scent spike.

He turned and saw Jungkook staring at him, eyes wide.

His red eyes.

“You…” Jungkook said, voice rough, “you’re— fuck. ”

Taehyung blinked—and then his world swayed. A sharp cramp tore through his stomach and he let out a harsh groan, knees buckling as he braced himself on a nearby bench.

With wide eyes Taehyung came to the realization. He was in heat.

It hit him all at once like a crashing wave of heat, arousal, and dread.

“No—no, no,” he whispered, breath ragged. “It wasn’t supposed to start yet. I had a week. ”

“ What the hell, Taehyung?!” Jungkook barked, stepping back as if burned, arm coming up to cover his nose. “You’re in heat ?! Why the hell are you out like this?”

“I didn’t know! ” Taehyung snapped back, his voice laced with panic and frustration. “It—It came early, alright?! I didn’t feel normal all day, but I didn’t think it was this—”

Jungkook growled low. “Did you at least take suppressants?”

Taehyung winced. “They’re in my room. At the dorm”

“Great,” Jungkook muttered, spinning around. “Okay. I’ll leave. Stay put. Don’t move. ”

"Yes, just get out!" Taehyung said with a groan, dropping to the floor as heat coursing through his veins tingled on his skin and stabbed in the core. "Try anything, Jeon, I swear on the moon, I'll tear you to pieces."

"Do you believe I would ever take advantage of you in such a way?!"

His voice was cracking over the stale air, bitterness in it. His fists were clenched at his sides, the knuckles turning pale. "What do you think I am, some sort of bastard?!"

Taehyung did not move. He leaned against the unopened boxes, his breaths ragged, defining his smell: thick and sugary—almost constrictive.

"The kind that still reeks of some omega or whatever," Taehyung sneered, voice low and shaking. 

That was a low blow, considering how Jungkook wasn’t entitled to say or defend himself, especially not to Taehyung. It was no-one's business who he slept with or if still chooses to be with.

Jungkook stiffened. His jaw ticked, and he turned sharply toward the door.

“Fucking unbelievable,” he muttered, storming toward the exit. “Fine. I’ll leave. I’ll—"

But behind him, there was a soft sound.

A broken whimper.

A sound so quiet, Jungkook would’ve missed it—if his alpha instincts hadn’t seized immediately in response.

He stopped, back rigid.

Turned.

Taehyung was doubled forward slightly, clutching his stomach, sweat beading on his temple. He looked small. Pained.

Conflicted.

Jungkook cursed and ran a hand through his hair. “Can’t you call someone?! Anyone? Jin? Jimin?”

“They’re gone,” Taehyung mumbled, biting his lip. “Seokjin already left. And Jimin’s back in hometown.”

“Great,” Jungkook muttered, pacing. “Should I go find someone else then? Maybe another omega who could help?”

He was halfway to the door when—

“ No! ” Taehyung shouted suddenly, voice raw. “Don’t—don’t leave.”

Jungkook stopped. Turned slowly. “What?”

In those eyes of his, something flashed that Jungkook couldn’t identify: fear—maybe shame—maybe desperation.

"I just." He swallowed, the whole of his voice trembling. "I don't want to be alone."

Jungkook said nothing. 

Now he could see. More than ever before. The trembling of his hands, the conflicted curl of his lips, the way his pheromones spiked even when Jungkook moved toward the door. And beneath all the bravery and snarling insults was a Taehyung that was afraid.

Trapped.

And Jungkook… wasn't the type of alpha to leave someone like that behind.

While Taehyung felt stuck, he didn't want to remain with the Alpha, neither did he want him to go, because that would be him alone, exposed. These were the moments he disliked being an omega. Why did he had to be afraid of being alone like that?

Jungkook took a deep breath and kneeled next to him. "How far is your dorm?"

Taehyung blinked at him, throat dry. "Just. the next block. First building."

Jungkook growled a curse. "Shit. Fine."

He rose to his feet, looming over him now.

"Do you need my help?" he asked, his tone gentler, more guarded.

Taehyung gazed up at Alpha, his breathing laboured. He opened his mouth to fight back but all he could do was nod slightly and hesitant.

Jungkook without any word slipped his arm around Taehyung’s waist, lifting him up. His body heat burns through the thin fabric. Taehyung grasped onto Jungkook’s t-shirt for support, wrapping his one shaky arm around Alpha’s neck. His breath caught at Jungkook's warmth. Stable. Solid.

Too close.

Jungkook made an effort to hold his breath.

With each breath, Taehyung's aroma lingered. It was thick, God, like honey laced with lightning, soft and flowery and uncomfortably intoxicating.

He clamped down harder on Taehyung's waist.

Focus. Get him out. No one sees. You’ll be fine.

Thankfully, the campus was quiet. Dusk had fallen. The dorm buildings stood still, lights glowing behind closed curtains. No one was around.

Jungkook supported Taehyung the whole way, every step making his instincts thrash harder beneath his skin.

If someone even looked at him right now—

He’d snap their neck without blinking.

They reached the door. Taehyung fumbled with his keys, hands shaking slightly, but got it open. Jungkook shut the door behind them, once he helped the omega inside.

Taehyung collapsed on the couch with a groan. Jungkook turned away immediately, searching the kitchen.

He found it and then took a glass, filled it with water, and returned.

Taehyung was leaning back, phone in hand, scrolling through his call list. He didn’t even glance up.

Jungkook frowned. “Where are your suppressants?”

Taehyung waved a hand lazily, eyes still on his screen. “Don’t need them. I’m gonna call my partner.”

Jungkook blinked.

The glass in his hand tilted slightly. “Your… what? ”

“My heat Partner,” Taehyung repeated like it was obvious. “I’ll ask him to come over”

The words hit Jungkook like a slap to the face. When it clearly shouldn’t have. Something in his chest twisted hard. He clenched the glass tighter, teeth grit.

He wasn’t sure if it was the possessive side of his alpha—hell, he didn’t even want Taehyung like that.

But.

But he stood there , helped him, carried him back. Ignored every primal instinct just to keep him safe. And now this omega, was about to invite some other random alpha over? It was like his alpha took it to the ego, that when he was there standing in front, why the omega was looking for some other alpha.

“Is he better than me?” Jungkook blurted before he could stop himself.

Taehyung blinked, looking up. “What?”

“Your heat partner ,” Jungkook said tightly. “Is he better than me? That's why you’d rather call him than just ask me to stay?”

“How does it matter?” Taehyung asked with his brows furrowed in confusion.

“It doesn’t,” Jungkook snapped. “Just thought it was funny. You think I’m some kind of beast, but you’d rather call some other alpha to come over than ask me, the one who just got you back here, to help.”

Taehyung’s glare could’ve burned a hole through the wall. His nails dug into the couch cushion, jaw tense. “Because it’s not about you, Jungkook,” he snapped. “I don’t trust most alphas. But I know him. I know how he’ll handle me.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened. “And you think I wouldn’t know how to handle you?”

There was a pause. Heavy. Suspended. 

Taehyung stared, something flickering behind his irises—uncertainty, frustration… heat.

Jungkook waited.

And then, Taehyung’s voice dropped into a growl. “You must be out of your fucking mind… I can’t even tolerate your scent and you think I’d spend my heat with you? ”

That stung.

Jungkook’s posture stiffened, a growl threatened to crawl out his throat. His eyes flashed sharp and feral, “Even you know that’s a lie.”

Taehyung should’ve shut him down then. Should’ve rolled his eyes, thrown the glass of water in his face, and kicked him out of his dorm.

But instead, he just looked at Jungkook. Really looked.

His breathing was too fast, cheeks flushed. He felt dizzy. His insides pulsed in rhythm with the slick sticking to his thighs. His mind was clouded and everything was… loud.

He hated this. Hated the loss of control.

Perhaps why he hissed, voice roughened, "It would be—if only you didn't smell like that omega."

In response the silence was so intense that Taehyung could even hear the beating of his own heart in his ears.

Jungkook said nothing.

Didn't defend himself. Didn't protest. Just stared.

Taehyung had to rearrange his legs in order to change his position. Now he felt it—slick clinging to the fabric, dampening his pants, making him feel even more exposed. His body was aching for something he didn't want to acknowledge. And Jungkook—son of a gun—was standing there watching it happen.

Taehyung parted his lips to finally say to leave him alone.

But then—

Jungkook's deep, husky voice curled around his spine. "Then wipe it off."

Taehyung blinked. "What?"

Jungkook approached slowly, lowering himself gradually until he was kneeling in front of him, staring at Taehyung's face. "If you don't like that smell on me," he whispered, "then erase it."

Taehyung’s breath got stuck. Jungkook leaned forward more, just a little - until his warm breath hit against Taehyung’s skin. "With yours. In its place. Until you are quieted. Until you are content."

It was too much. The words. The tone. The suggestion.

Taehyung should’ve laughed in his face. Should’ve barked out something cruel like, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Should’ve told him to fuck off. But instead—

His eyes dragged over Jungkook’s features. The flutter of his lashes. The mole beneath his bottom lip. The way his throat moved when he swallowed. The curve of his neck, where that fake, lingering vanilla still clung.

God, he hated that scent. He wanted it gone already.

His fingers twitched. Heat coiled tight in his gut. He reached out slowly, grabbed Jungkook’s collar, and yanked him closer.

Jungkook didn’t resist.

Their faces were inches apart. Taehyung’s eyes burned with defiance, heat, and something shaky underneath.

“Don’t think this means anything, it’s only because waiting for that alpha would be mean being in pain for longer,” he muttered.

Jungkook gave a crooked smirk. “Wouldn’t dare.”

And then Taehyung leaned forward—

Buried his face into the curve of Jungkook’s neck.

He breathed in. Deep. Aggressive. Dragging his nose across the skin just under Jungkook’s jaw. Wiping off the remnants of another omega. Erasing.

His scent began to spike—amber sweet, sultry and hot—and Jungkook shivered, biting his lower lip, holding back a growl as Taehyung nuzzled deeper, face sticky and breathless.

Jungkook whispered hoarsely, voice rough and breaking at the edges, “You’re… really going at it.”

Taehyung didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Because the instant his aroma started sticking to Jungkook's skin—rich, honey-sweet with warmth—something within him clicked into position. The terror, the shakiness, the battle raging inside him… it faded. The shudder in his limbs faded out. His respiration slowed.

Yet his hunger did not.

If anything, it growled louder.

He slid down onto Jungkook's lap, sitting on top of him with legs that still quivered like jelly. His body pressed in tight, chests flush, and he buried his face against Jungkook’s neck again. His hands threaded behind Jungkook’s head, fingers fisting in soft hair as he nuzzled, nosed, and then— kissed.

Soft at first. Then wetter. More demanding. Trails of open-mouthed kisses, wet and messy, smeared over Jungkook’s scent glands like he was trying to erase any trace of anyone else.

Jungkook let out a string of breathless curses, his head tipping back. His own scent spiked—rich, heady, dangerously aroused.

“Fuck—” he hissed, eyes fluttering shut. “Guess this mouth knows other things too besides only arguing.”

Taehyung ignored him But even as he pressed deeper, he knew he was unraveling. Unraveling fast.

His voice was already weak, slurred slightly from the pull of instinct. He barely managed to mumble, “This doesn’t mean anything… no one’s going to know. We’re not going to talk about this after.”

Jungkook’s laugh was low, rough, as he pulled him closer by the waist, feeling the heat pouring off the omega’s body. “Sure,” he muttered, voice thick with want. “Though are you always this talkative when you're about to fuck someone?” He smirked. “I thought the cheer squad captain had some mad skills.”

Taehyung pulled back, just enough to glare at him—though his hands stayed clutching Jungkook’s shoulders, nails digging in. His lower half pressed flush to Jungkook’s, rolling heat against hardness, and both of them shivered from the contact.

Jungkook leaned in closer, lips brushing over his cheek, teasing:
“What happened, pup? Cat got your ton—”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

Because Taehyung bit him.

Hard.

Teeth sinking into Jungkook’s lower lip, pulling it with a snap that made Jungkook grunt, eyes blown wide. The sharp pain only spiked his desire more, and before a second passed, Jungkook crashed forward—capturing Taehyung’s mouth in a bruising kiss.

It was messy. Desperate. All clashing teeth and slick tongues and unspoken, years-long tension finally combusting.

Their scents collided in a rush—like a match striking oil.

Taehyung moaned into Jungkook’s mouth, hips rolling down against him, still perched on his lap. The slide of their bodies ignited sparks. His pants were soaked, sticking to his thighs, slick spreading and drenching through the fabric, the scent of it so potent Jungkook could hardly think.

The kiss didn’t break.

Taehyung was losing himself. Heat clawed up his spine, devouring every thought, every hesitation. And then—he gasped against Jungkook’s lips, voice cracking into a breathless moan.

“Alpha…”

That one word shattered the last string of Jungkook’s control.

His instincts surged up with force, not lustful—but protective , anchoring. He held Taehyung tighter, his voice low and steady, brushing against the shell of his ear:
“I’m here, omega… I got you.”

He gently shifted, one arm wrapped around Taehyung’s waist, the other supporting his neck, and began lowering him to the floor—still kissing him through the descent.

The floor was cold, but Taehyung burned too hot to register. The instant he reclined back against the floor, his thighs separating naturally, Jungkook's breath snagged.

Not from shock. But from the raw need emanating off Taehyung now—visible, palpable, intoxicating.

The omega flushed deep red, hair strands plastered onto his wet forehead, lips kiss-swollen and eyes unfocused. His chest puffed and deflated as if he couldn't get air, smell thickening the air until Jungkook's muscles knotted just to remain in control.

Taehyung didn't say a word.

But his body—slouching up slightly, slippery inside his thighs, shuddering as he crawled up to yank Jungkook's shirt—howled out what his mouth wouldn't.

Jungkook hung over him, shadowed eyes scanning his face. His voice was soft, gasping, but burning, "If you want me to stop… tell me now."

Taehyung blinked slowly, startled, lips parting, but words not coming.

He pulled Jungkook down instead by the hem of his shirt—grasping that tightly—and dragged him into another kiss. More urgent than the first. More hungry. Tongue flashing into Jungkook's mouth with heat-scorched desperation.

"Shut up," Taehyung snarled when they caught their breath. "Just fucking do it."

Jungkook groaned, and let the final threads of control fray. "Don't act like I'm the only one who's ever wanted this."

Clothes tore off quickly. Too quickly.

Buttons were torn in frustration, zippers caught halfway and forced down with impatient hands. There was no grace to it, no build-up—just teeth and nails and months of charged tension combusting all at once. Locker room glares. Game-day taunts. Accidental brushes that lingered.

Now it was skin against skin, heat against heat.

Jungkook held Taehyung down with a tight hold on hips, licking into his mouth like he was starving. His fingers, already slicked, dipped between Taehyung’s thighs, circling his rim slowly. But his mouth—his mouth latched to Taehyung’s chest, tongue toying with his nipple in slow, deliberate flicks.

Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back. “If you were gonna be this slow and lame,” he panted, “I would've just called my actual heat partner.”

Jungkook’s lips curled against his chest. “Tch. Impatient little brat.”

And then—two fingers slide in. At once.

Taehyung’s entire body jolted. “F-Fuck—!”

Jungkook didn’t wait. No time to adjust. He pumped them in relentlessly, mercilessly, curling just so to send Taehyung seeing stars. His breath danced across Taehyung's jaw as he leaned in. "You were saying?"

Taehyung couldn’t help but moan, biting down on his lip, gasping between ragged breaths.

His legs tightened around Jungkook's hips, rutting up into him with ragged rhythm. "You better not suck at this," he growled, voice cracking under pressure welling up inside him.

Jungkook snorted, fingers still raking through him at a violent rate. "Please. You'll be crying out my name before you know it."

Their lips clashed once more—warm, sloppy, all teeth and tongue. Every kiss was an insult.

Taehyung pulled Jungkook's hair, hard, and Jungkook groaned into his lips. "You're so full of yourself," Taehyung spat.

“And you’ll be full of me soon,” Jungkook growled, dragging his lips down Taehyung’s throat. He found the base of Taehyung’s neck—where his scent glands throbbed—and bit down just enough to make the omega jolt.

The pace of Jungkook's fingers increased, forceful and deliberate. Taehyung's moans grew higher, more reedy, his body quivering beneath the pressure of approaching climax.

Their bodies slapped together with a rhythm born of more than lust—it was vengeance, it was freedom, it was all they'd been too proud to admit that they required.

And within it, Jungkook leaned in, whispered against Taehyung's temple: "Still hate me?"

Taehyung gave a laugh that split into a moan. "More than ever."

But he cinched his legs tighter around Jungkook's waist as if he'd never release him.

And Jungkook smiled, breathing warm against his cheek. "Good."

Then—Taehyung broke apart. With a slammed moan, his back arched off the couch as he came, thighs shaking, slick covering Jungkook's wrist.

Slowly, slowly, Jungkook drew his fingers out, carefully. He held them aloft, slick shimmering. "Came right out of my fingers," he grinned, licking them dry with a slow, careful stroke of his tongue. "Still questioning whether I know what to do with you?"

Taehyung, panting, gave him a flat look. “It’s just my heat. Don’t flatter yourself. A sober me wouldn’t even blink at that.”

Jungkook’s gaze darkened instantly. Something snapped.

“Oh, really?”

He held Taehyung’s thigh and lifted him up effortlessly. Taehyung gasped out, surprised, arms circled around Jungkook’s neck in reflex before he walked them over to the nearest wall.

Jungkook dropped and flipped him around, pinning his chest to the cold surface in a single, smooth motion. 

Taehyung didn’t even have time to adjust to the new position, before he felt Alpha’s scorching body heat behind his back. Jungkook crowded him from behind, chest to spine. The Alpha took both of the omega’s wrists in the grasp of his one hand and clamped them above his head on the wall.

"You have no one but yourself to blame," Jungkook snarled into his ear, voice gravelly, menacing. “Now I’m not stopping. Even if you beg.”

He ground his hips forward, rutting against Taehyung’s ass, letting him feel just how hard he was. Just how ready.

Taehyung groaned, trying to push back against him. “Fuck you—”

“You’re about to,” Jungkook growled.

Then—with one sharp thrust—he was in. All of him. 

Taehyung cried out, body stiffening as the sudden delicious stretch overwhelmed him.

“F-Fuck, Jungkook—”

Jungkook released his wrists and clutched his hips instead, fingers nailing hard. "Yeah? Still think I don't know how to fuck you right?"

Taehyung was only able to moan back at him, slumping forward, forehead against the wall.

Jungkook's hips pushed forward deep and bruising in Taehyung, whose moans reverberated through the wall, the sound muffled from how immovably he was pinned to the wall. Alpha didn’t stop, he relished in the trembling form of Omega, in every gasp, whimper or curse falling from his swollen kissed lips with each hard thrust.

"Wanna make it look like you don't like this?" Jungkook growled with his hot breath scorching down on Taehyung's ear. "I'll fuck you so hard you forget all names but mine."

Taehyung barely managed to utter. "D-Don't stop…" he gulped, and then he gasped, the words and breathy pants filled with sincere plea.

"Oh, now you're asking for it," he snapped with a harsh laugh, the mocking satisfaction explaining away every pitiless thrust. "Should have said that earlier, baby."

Their bodies slapped against one another obscenely loudly in the black room, the sound only rivalled by the hitched moans and wheezing gasps that they exchanged on kisses and curses. Jungkook's hand was around Taehyung's waist, fingers probing into soft flesh.

The other was laced with Taehyung’s right hand, pinning it over their heads on the wall. His grip firm, grounding. The only thing holding Taehyung on his feet.

Jungkook had his face buried in the crook of Taehyung’s neck, the cinnamon, sweet and blooming filling in all his senses. He inhaled deep, Omega’s pre-heat scent was rich and overwhelming, Jungkook could feel how the air felt heavy with it.

“You smell so good,” Jungkook rasped into his skin, rutting harder, sloppier. “Your heat’s not even here yet and I’m—fuck—barely holding it together.”

Taehyung, with his cheek flattened against the coldness of the wall, groaned. Sweat dripped down his temple. He was falling apart with every push of Alpha’s cock, filling him up so well. He became pliant under Jungkook’s touch, knees threatening to buckle from how full he felt.

“Jungkook—Alpha—I can’t…” he gasped, “I’m gonna—”

“I’ve got you,” Jungkook muttered, holding him tight. “You’re not falling. You’ll come just like this—on me, for me.”

And Taehyung did—with a gasping moan, he painted the wall in front of him, eyes seeing white, his whole body tensing up as pleasure washed over him in waves. He shook in Jungkook's arms, not breathing at all.

The tight grip of Taehyung's walls wrung a growl from Jungkook, primal and low. He chased his own high, thrusts turning erratic, desperate.

But then—they both felt it.

That telltale tightness low in his abdomen. His knot threatened to swell.

“Don’t you fucking dare knot me,” Taehyung hissed, twisting to try and push him away—but his limbs were jelly, his body too spent.

Jungkook licked a line over Taehyung’s scent gland, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. “Not unless you beg.”

Taehyung only let out a breathless and humorless laugh, “You wish,”

“Will see,” Jungkook grinned and then with one final thrust, he came deep inside Taehyung, spilling his loads. Taehyung clenched around him instinctively, as if his body was trying to suck him dry, their bodies locked in the post orgasm. They both breath hard, slowly coming back to their senses.

But then—Jungkook froze. His eyes widened slightly. "Shit."

He pulled out, both wincing from the oversensitivity, but Jungkook only could focus on the sudden realization dawning on him. “I didn’t wear a condom,” he muttered, scent spiking sharply with worry, his alpha’s protective instinct kicking in. The worry was more so for the vulnerable omega.

Taehyung who was still trying to catch his breath shakes his head, assuring, “It’s okay, I’m on birth control,”

Jungkook felt a huge weight was off his shoulder as he let out a breath of relief, resting his forehead on Taehyung’s shoulder, “God, should’ve said so earlier,”

Taehyung was leaning against the wall now, his legs struggling to keep him upright. "Didn't exactly plan this," he muttered.“And—my heat’s not fully here yet. Might hit in hours. Or minutes.”

He wasn’t sure if he should ask Jungkook to stay.

But then, Jungkook was already moving. Slipping out gently, pulling up Taehyung’s underwear with a whisper of, “I got it,” before walking off toward the kitchen. Moments later, he returned with a water bottle in one hand and a shirt in the other. He crouched to gently clean Taehyung up, careful and wordless.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Taehyung said quietly, eyes watching Jungkook’s face for any flicker of emotion.

Jungkook handed him the water. “I’m not an asshole. You trusted me with your heat. I’m gonna take care of you.”

That made Taehyung’s chest tighten. He gripped the glass too tightly. His heart was stuttering and it had no right to.

It didn’t mean anything.

Because Jungkook, not with his alpha protective instincts, was a goddamn thorn in his side. A brat. A menace. His worst fucking rival.

Still—he didn’t stop Jungkook when the alpha scooped him up carefully and placed him onto the bed. He didn’t stop him when he pulled a blanket over him, tucked it around his legs, and built a temporary nest around him, like it meant something. He let himself be cradled.

Jungkook murmured, brushing Taehyung’s damp hair back. “I’ll cook something in a bit, just in case. You’ll need food before it really hits.”

Taehyung frowned faintly as his eyes fluttered closed. He said it himself—this didn’t mean anything.

It wasn’t supposed to. His previous heat partner would do the same for him.

So why did his heart ache like it did only for the Alpha he hated? 

Maybe it was the tenderness. Maybe it was the way Jungkook had helped him with the nest earlier, like he knew exactly how to make him feel safe. Or maybe it was just the hormones.

Whatever it was—it was temporary. A one-time thing.

Just until his heat passed. And then—back to whatever mess they were before.

Back to nothing .

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

The scent of bubbling soup filled the tiny dorm kitchen, and Jungkook stirred the pot mindlessly. Carrots, scallions, bone broth—whatever was in Taehyung's fridge. He tracked the motion, the rhythm, anything else but the thoughts trying to claw their way up.

Don't think. Don't remember.

One look at the bedroom door, open a crack, and it came back like a tidal wave.

Fuck.

Jaw clenched, he turned back to the soup, stirring more forcefully. No, he wasn’t going there. He wasn’t going to say it. He refused to admit it.

Another glance. A flash of red marks blooming over golden skin.

Fuck it. That was… that was the best fuck of his life.

But this wasn’t just anyone. That was Taehyung . The omega whose very voice made Jungkook want to shove his head through a wall. The brat with too much attitude and legs too long for his own good. The one Jungkook swore he couldn’t stand for more than two minutes without imagining throwing him across the field—or the bed, apparently.

He ladled the soup into a bowl, shaking off the thoughts, the heat crawling up his neck.

No. This wasn’t about lust. His alpha had merely reacted to an omega in need. That’s all it was.

He walked back into the room, eyes narrowing at the sight of Taehyung curled up in sheets, half his back exposed, red-purple bruises decorating the curve of his hips like someone painted sin onto silk.

"Soup," Jungkook grumbled, setting the bowl beside the bed.

Taehyung rolled over, eyes still half-closed from fatigue. He flinched a bit sitting up and took the bowl wordlessly.

Jungkook settled into the chair on the other side of the room, sitting silently as Taehyung consumed. No praise. No criticism. Not that he required either. Not that he was seeking.

…A little appreciation would've been appreciated, maybe means a great deal. His alpha enjoyed the thought of caring for someone.

Taehyung finished and set the bowl down, quiet as ever. Jungkook's gaze drifted down his toned body, over the lines of his naked back, the very sheen of sweat still lingering on his skin, the sweep of his waist where the sheets ridged low—

Shit.

Taehyung huffed and wrapped himself up in his nest with a tiny frown, rearranging the pillows but obviously discontent. Jungkook saw it right away. He rose wordlessly, went out, retrieved his own thrown-off T-shirt, and came back.

"Here," he growled roughly, flinging it over.

Taehyung blinked, begrudgingly taking the shirt and pulling it into his nest with a tiny sigh of satisfaction.

"…Later, you can get in too. When it starts," he muttered, already falling asleep.

Jungkook stood still for a second, something constricting in his chest, before going back to the chair and grabbing his phone.

He didn't know when his eyes drifted shut. Perhaps five minutes. Perhaps thirty. But the next thing he was aware of—

Warmth. Heaviness. A smell so dense and sugary it smacked him across the senses like a freight train.

He woke gasping, hips jerking upwards uncontrollably at the wet heat enveloping him.

"Taehyung—!" he strangled out, blinking down.

There he was, on the floor, there in between Jungkook's thighs, mouth encircling his cock, pupils blown wide and glowing softly blue.

"Alpha…" Taehyung whispered, voice rough and starving.

Jungkook's breath caught, hands shooting to Taehyung's hair. “Shit—Taehyung… you—your heat—fuck.”

But Taehyung only whimpered and bobbed his head lower, taking Jungkook’s entire length, gagless, skilled, starving . The entire space was reeking of Taehyung’s sweet and flowery scent, making Jungkook lose his control to his wolf. His eyes slowly turning red.

"You got so greedy for your alpha, huh?" Jungkook growled through gritted teeth, head falling back, hips jerking up. “Couldn’t even wait? Needed to satisfy me before you melted?”

Taehyung moaned around him, sending vibrations up Jungkook’s spine.

“Yes… alpha,” he mumbled when he came up for breath, saliva glistening on his lips, pupils fully dilated. “Want you. Need you.”

And that was it.

Jungkook came down his throat with a raw shout, one hand digging into the couch handrest, the other grasping Taehyung's curls.

He was gasping, lacing, but even as his orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, his instincts kicked in. He reached down, picking up Taehyung in his arms.

"Can I—" he gasped, "Get into your nest?"

Taehyung, already soft and wet, nodded wildly. "Yes. Yours. Please.”

Jungkook crawled into the nest, laying Taehyung down gently, hovering over him, gaze tracing every inch of his flushed face, the sweat at his temples, the shine in his eyes.

“You’re soaked,” he whispered, his fingers brushing Taehyung’s thighs, dipping between to feel the heat and wetness. “All for me, right?”

Taehyung whimpered. “Yours, alpha. Please.”

And Jungkook, shaking with restraint, murmured, “Let me make you feel good.” His fingers slid between Taehyung’s legs, gathering slick, rubbing slow circles. “Your body’s begging, pup.”

The endearment slips out on its own. Jungkook’s red eyes stared back Taehyung’s blue ones, as he pushed two fingers in, watching the way Taehyung’s mouth fell open in relief, the way his hips bucked, and how he clutched at Jungkook’s shoulders.

“Such a good omega,” Jungkook whispered, leaning down to kiss his jaw. “So ready. Taking my fingers so well.”

His alpha was roaring now, no longer something he was just suppressing but a part of him completely in control—possessive, careful, attentive.

He wanted to claim. He wanted to ruin the omega before him.

Jungkook pressed another kiss to Taehyung’s neck. “Let me take care of you, pup.”

Taehyung gazed dazed, gasping forth, "Please, Alpha, take me." 

His back arched while Jungkook's fingers slid in-between with a slow, slow, but stiff movement, curving just so to make his thighs shiver. His gasp was harsh and short-breathed, and his fingers curled on Jungkook's shoulders, biting with his nails.

"More," he gasped, opening his eyes. "Alpha—more. I can take it." 

Jungkook clenched his teeth, resisting to lose control. His whole body wanted him to rut, claim him, and mark him. But Taehyung's flushed face; the way Taehyung reached up, looking upon him with such trust and desire kept Jungkook grounded.

"Are you sure?" he grit through that hoarse rasp of control. "You feel so tight, pup."

"I want you," Taehyung panted. "Need you now. Please."

Jungkook slowly pulled back his fingers, observing Taehyung's hole spasm, still shiny and hungry with slick. He aligned himself, releasing a shaky breath.

“I am going in now,” he warned, pressing forward slowly. “Breathe for me, okay?”

Taehyung moaned, back arching again as the thick head of Jungkook’s cock pushed in. “Fuck—yes,” he gasped. “Want to feel you stretch me. Want to feel all of you.”

Jungkook clamped down on his lip so hard it hurt, grinding out a low groan as he slipped in deeper, inch by painful inch. Taehyung's walls spasmed around him, slick and scorching, drawing him in like they were crafted for him.

When he was finally seated all the way inside, he stiffened—beneath to the hilt.

Taehyung's legs shook in front of him. "Move," he pleaded. "Please, Alpha. Don't restrain yourself."

Jungkook's palms closed over Taehyung's thighs and fingered so hard he started moving, his hips slowly rolling at first. But Taehyung just whined—sporadic, broken sounds millennia in their inception that began to disintegrate Jungkook's hold by the moment.

"Faster," Taehyung whimpered. "Harder. I can do it—I need it."

Jungkook growled and thrust his hips abruptly forward, causing Taehyung to let out a strangled cry while arching his back away from the nest. The rhythm now was harder and more brutal, with each thrust stealing their breath away.

But amidst the brutality, Jungkook was observant—his hand gently sweeping damp hair out of Taehyung's forehead, his lips kissing between the bruising marks as they spread up and down his skin.

"Who's the good omega," he gasped into Taehyung's mouth. "Say it. Say it for me."

With a trembling voice, Taehyung encircled his neck with his arms and drew him close. "I am, I am. A good omega specifically for my alpha.”

With another deep, claiming kiss, Jungkook snapped his hips up harder and tilted until Taehyung yelled, his legs clenching around his waist.

“There?” Jungkook groaned, hitting it again. “Right there?”

“Fuck–y-yes, right there. Don-don’t stop!”

Jungkook’s hand traced Taehyung’s back, arching him up so their chest glued together, as he kept his thrusts relent, each one hitting the sweet spot deeper than last.

“Gosh, you feel so fucking amazing,” Jungkook growled into his ear, "So tight around me, so fucking flawless—fuck."

Taehyung had his fingers dig into Alpha’s hair, pulling onto it hard so he could leave a trail of kisses along his jaw, shoulder, anywhere his lips could reach, could tough.

“You make me feel so full,” Taehyung whispered between broken gasps, “Love the way you feel inside me, need it. Please give it to me,”

“Don’t worry babe I am not stopping,” Jungkook snarled, his thrusts growing more merciless now, “Not until you can’t say anything but my name,”

Taehyung was reaching his limit, Jungkook could feel it from the trembling of his body, the way he felt the walls squeezing him in so tight, in the broken words spilling from his lips with every push and pull.

“Touch yourself, baby,” Jungkook ordered, voice tight. “I wanna see you fall apart.”

Taehyung obeyed instantly, slick fingers wrapping around his own cock. It only took a few strokes before he was gasping, body going taut under Jungkook’s weight.

“ Alpha —!”

He came with a cry, eyes wide, mouth parted as his release spilled between them. Jungkook only followed seconds later, burying himself deep in the omega with a guttural moan. Their bodies adjusting to the aftershocks, breaths ragged and heavy.

Jungkook leaned down to kiss Taehyung’s shoulder, then his jaw and finally his lips - slowly, softly, taking all the time in the world. It was not heated, not rushed, just a steady rhythm of falling into a tranquility. 

“You did so good,” he whispered against his lips. “So fucking good for me.”

Taehyung just hummed, dazed, already curling into him as their hearts thundered in sync. He sighed, “Alpha……”, already grinding down his hips against Jungkook, showing how he was not done yet. How he need more, “Alpha..please,”

And Jungkook’s alpha was weak for the omega and his pleas.

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

It took two full days for Taehyung's heat to subside.

Two days of locked doors and drawn curtains, of damp sheets and hushed moans reverberating against the dorm walls. It wasn't the bed—Oh, God, it was everywhere. The couch, the kitchen counter, even the floor at the closet entrance where Taehyung had fallen against Jungkook, shivering and pleading to be filled once more.

It was dirty. It was addictive. It was unstoppable.

Between the crashing of their bodies, Jungkook ensured Taehyung was fed and watered—spoon-feeding him soup while Taehyung stayed in his lap, Jungkook still deep inside him, warming him, connected.

No thrusts, no movement. Only fullness.

There were times Jungkook stood bare-chested in the kitchen preparing rice, and Taehyung would enter, half-naked and flushed, dropping to his knees with a lazy grin and a dirty promise. Jungkook had eaten Taehyung out there, tongue deep in slippery and fingers curling up, the burner abandoned.

For forty-eight hours, the animosity between them melted into the heat haze. For forty-eight hours, they forgot how much they despised each other. There was no captain of the football team, no cheerleader. There was only alpha. There was only omega. There was only primal desire and the nauseatingly perfect fit of them together.

But when it was over—the silence was brutal.

Taehyung sat on the couch cushion now, newly emerged from a hot bath. His hair was wet and tousled, his skin still sensitive where Jungkook had kissed, sucked, and bruised him. Some of the bruises were now purple-blue in color, throbbed when he moved. Others were concealed beneath the high collar of the large hoodie he had put on.

Jungkook was occupied in the shower.

Taehyung's fingers tingled, fingering the edge of his sleeve. His phone vibrated once more on the counter—hundreds of missed calls and messages. Hoseok. Jimin. Group messages. His mom. They all asked if he was alright. He didn't even know what to respond.

And what was he supposed to say to Jungkook?

Hey, thanks for fucking me against every surface in my dorm. Back to being enemies?

He got up and paced.

This needs to end. This has to end. This was heat. That’s it. Nothing more.

The bathroom door creaked open. Jungkook stepped out, his hair damp, wearing sweatpants and pulling a T-shirt over his head.

Their eyes met.

Taehyung instantly turned away. The memory of Jungkook’s mouth on his chest, the way he whispered such a good omega for me or pup with every deep thrust—it all hit him at once.

Without a word, he walked over to the table, picked up the small canister, and threw it at Jungkook’s chest.

“Scent blocker,” Taehyung muttered. “You still reek of me. Can’t have anyone finding out, so just use it.”

Jungkook caught the spray, expression unreadable. He didn’t argue. Didn’t say anything. Just sprayed himself in slow motions—wrists, neck, collar.

The smell of sandalwood and vanilla overpowered the lingering whisper of Taehyung's musk. He capped the bottle and set it on the shelf without glancing at him.

Then he made his way to the door.

Just before walking out, hand on the knob, he paused. His voice was low—steady, almost cold. “Like we said. This never happened, right?”

Taehyung looked up sharply. His heart beat loud in his ears.

“What else,” he said flatly, arms crossed. “In my sober mind, I wouldn’t even let a stupid alpha like you touch me.”

Jungkook let out a humorless scoff and nodded once. “Good. Would’ve been awkward if you wanted a repeat.”

The Alpha yank opened the door, emerging into the quiet hallway without passing any other words. Mindful of any watchful eyes. Meanwhile the omega stood in the middle of the room, teeth clenched, and arms wrapped tightly around himself in a vulnerability.

He didn’t move from his place, until he couldn’t hear, inhale or feel Alpha’s presence anywhere near him. Jungkook’s footsteps fade away completely. Then only he allowed himself to run back to his nest, burying his face into the pillow with a sharp intake of breath. Because it still smelt like him.

Fucking hell.

Chapter Text

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

Standing in front of the mirror, Taehyung fiddled with his collar, adjusting the hem of his fitted black t-shirt. Smoothing the non-existent wrinkles as though they could ease out the knot in his stomach. 

He looked presentable. Good. Like nothing ever happened.

With a soft breath, he took hold of the scent blocker spray, twisting the cap off before raising it to his neck and chest. He sprayed liberally—twice on his collarbone, once in each ear, then swiped his hands through the spray, allowing it to stick to his shirt and skin until he was covered in sterile nothingness

On the bed behind him, Seokjin watched with his arms crossed and a knowing tilt to his head.

“That's new,” he commented, voice light but curious. “Since when do you go through all that effort to hide your scent and marks after a heat?”

Taehyung’s hand froze midway in alert. Clearing his throat, he put the bottle back on shelf and said with a waiver in his voice, “I don’t feel like having attention around me right now, “

“Final year and all. Gotta look focused, responsible. Professional.”

Seokjin gave out a low amused chuckle, “Oh, sure. Mister ‘I only wear mesh tops and let alphas fight over me in the quad.’ You suddenly care about professionalism?” He raised a brow. “Right.”

Taehyung tried to act nonchalant, narrowing his eyes at Seokjin through the mirror, “You are being dramatic,”

“And you’re a terrible liar,” Seokjin replied, uncrossing his arms with a sly smile. “It’s not the marks you’re hiding, Taehyung. It’s the person who gave them.”

Taehyung's fingers clenched around his bag's strap, but his face revealed nothing.

Seokjin sat up straighter. “So? Who was it? You vanished for two whole days—two. Didn’t answer a single message, didn’t even leave a note. Not even a dramatic thirst trap for us to know you're alive.”

Taehyung forced a lazy shrug, grabbing his phone off the table. “You know him. Minjae.”

Seokjin scoffed. “Minjae?” tilting his head like he just heard a toddler’s lie story of having a yacht, “Yeah, sure. That’s your story?”

Taehyung with a strained voice asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Seokjin with a glint in his eyes leaned back on his elbows, “Only that I saw Minjae at the café near campus the day before yesterday—very much alone and very much not locked away in anyone’s dorm.”

Taehyung went still for half a second before covering it up with a too-loud laugh. “Well, guess I was wrong then. Must’ve been a fever dream. I think was just someone from the last party I met,”

Seokjin only grinned wider. “You know what’s even more interesting?”

Taehyung sighed, turning halfway to him. “What now?”

“For those same two days…” Seokjin paused for effect. “Jungkook didn’t come to college either. And his car? Parked right there in the lot. Didn’t move once.”

Taehyung’s breath caught in a sharp exhale. They hadn’t really thought it all through. He let out a dry laugh, that sounded too defensive, “What, are you his manager now? Maybe he passed out drunk in some omega’s dorm. What’s that got to do with me?”

Seokjin asked with amusement lacing his tone, “You tell me,”

“Can we go now? Like I said, the heat hit suddenly.” Taehyung clicked his tongue, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder “There was this random alpha who looked decent enough and was there to help me. I didn’t get time to notify anyone. That’s all.”

Seokjin hummed and stood up, stretching. “If you say so.”

Taehyung walked towards the door, already going through his class schedule in his mind just to avoid Seokjin’s knowing gaze on him. But before they stepped out, Seokjin muttered casually, “Still unusual though… your heats were always regular, yeah? Starting every month like clockwork.”

Taehyung paused for a moment.

With a light tone and watchful eyes, Seokjin continued, "Perhaps you should have a checkup or something."

Taehyung hid the glimmer of unease in his chest behind a tight smile. "Yes. Perhaps.

As students began to filter onto the campus lawn, they left the dorm together and stepped out into the morning air. Taehyung had his face straight, his eyes ahead—but in his mind, his thoughts were already racing.

He despised the way his body responded when he said Jungkook's name. Despised how he was the one who couldn't kick that Alpha out and put both of them into this situation. And above all… despised how a part of him didn't regret it.

The familiar sound of footsteps, locker shutters closing, and the muted thud of a ball bouncing from the courts outside filled the corridor. However, Taehyung experienced a chill as he walked down the shared hallway outside his lecture hall.

He could sense Jungkook's presence without even looking up. He sensed it— smelled it before the man was even in view. 

Jungkook was there, coming around the corner from the opposite end. He had his headphones around his neck and his team jersey on, sleeves rolled up. Practice has left his hair still damp. Taehyung’s heart hiccupped.

This was it. Their first face-to-face since… that night.

Taehyung rolled back his shoulders, gaze fixed ahead. He wasn’t going to be the one who would be making a scene first, and definitely not let his wolf or scent betray him again.

And Jungkook?

He walked right past him.

No scoffing. No teasing. No "Nice shoes, glitters" or "What’s new on gossip girl?"

Nothing.

They brushed shoulders in the middle of the corridor—and kept walking.

Behind them, the silence was deafening.

Jimin who had just arrived at the campus blinked back and forth between their retreating figures with eyes widened. “Wait… did they just—not insult each other?”

Namjoon slowly lowered his iced coffee. “No growls. No eye-rolls. No Taehyung calling Jungkook a walking steroid or Jungkook calling him a perfume ad.”

Yoongi, leaning against the wall nearby with his arms crossed, muttered, “Something’s wrong.”

“Something’s very wrong,” Jimin agreed, eyes narrowing with concern. “They're broken.”

“They’re not broken,” Namjoon deadpanned. “They’re hiding something.”

Trying not to take too many deep breaths, Taehyung went back to the hallway and went into the lecture hall. He gripped the strap of his bag tightly. Jungkook’s scent was faint—but it was there. Muted. Neutral.

He was wearing blockers.

Just like Taehyung.

Pathetic, he thought, biting down the bitterness. We look like strangers now.

With a loud thud, Jungkook had slammed the door of the equipment shed across the hall after ducking inside.

He yanked his blocker spray from his bag and exhaled sharply, muttering to himself.

“Why the fuck is it harder to ignore him than it was to fight him…”

He hadn't dared look at Taehyung’s neck—but he’d seen the collar of that high-neck shirt. He’d seen the way his jaw was set, lips slightly parted from anxious breathing, how his fingers trembled slightly at his sides.

And it made something twist in his gut.

Because ignoring Taehyung was safer.

But it was also torture. It was easier hating his guts.

Jimin, still thinking about the encounter, asked, “Did something happen between them?”

Namjoon hummed. “Either they finally slept together… or they almost did.”

Jimin gasped. “No. You don’t think—”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Well, they’re not throwing punches anymore, which honestly might be worse.”

“They’re repressing something. And it's making us uncomfortable,” Jimin declared, offended. “I liked it better when they were threatening each other with scissors in lab class.”

Namjoon rubbed his chin dramatically. “Okay. Operation: Find Out What The Hell Happened In Those Missing Two Days is officially on.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, a silent oath shared between friends who had witnessed years of bickering suddenly replaced by empty space.

Meanwhile, in the lecturer hall, Taehyung leaned against the wall beside him, pressing the cool tile on the wall to his temple.

Jungkook was avoiding him. He should be relieved.

But all he felt was a dull ache and the echo of that night—his scent buried in Jungkook’s neck, the alpha’s husky voice whispering, “Then wipe it off.”

He shook his head, trying to bury it. Trying to pretend nothing had happened.

Because the alternative? Was too dangerous to want again. 

So what if he couldn’t get the feel of Jungkook’s rough hands guiding his hips out of his mind? So what if sometimes, in the middle of class, a low “good pup” would echo like a ghost against his ear?

He couldn’t be lusting after the person who had spent three damn years tormenting him across every hallway, class, and campus event.

He wasn’t going to be that stupid.

He refused.

“Okay,” Jimin said, flopping into the seat in front of him with an exaggerated exhale as Yoongi settled beside him. “Spill. I was out of town for two days, and suddenly you and Jeon have signed a peace treaty?”

Taehyung raised a brow, cool and controlled. “What peace treaty? I already told Jin hyung this morning—I’m not wasting my energy on useless things anymore. I’ve matured.”

Yoongi snorted. “You matured on the same exact day Jungkook did? What is this, divine intervention?”

Even Seokjin tilted his head slightly, amused.

Taehyung forced a neutral smile, eyes fixed on the desk. He knew it looked suspicious. They hadn’t just stopped fighting—they’d stopped everything. And suddenly.

But how was he supposed to explain that he wasn’t ignoring Jungkook because he didn’t care?

No. He was ignoring him because he was scared.

Scared of how his body betrayed him the second Jungkook came close. How one little look, one little scent molecule, was enough to make his legs shake.

He couldn’t even trust himself anymore.

He forced a scoff and waved a hand. “It’s good he’s ignoring me too. Makes life peaceful.”

Jimin leaned over his desk, whispering with mock innocence, “You two aren’t secretly fucking, are you?”

Taehyung gasped for breath.

He was about to burst into an angry denial when he turned, his eyes wide with shock, but he restrained himself. If you protest too much, it will come across as guilt. Instead, with a dramatically offended expression, he leant back in his chair and scoffed louder.

"Really?" he asked in a tone that suggested disgust. “You think I’d sleep with that Alpha?”

Jimin smirked. “So you’re saying you didn’t?”

“Shut up, Jimin.”

The professor walked in, and thankfully, the interrogation ended there. But as Taehyung opened his laptop, a single thought throbbed through his mind:

I can’t let anyone else think that. I can’t let even a whisper of that night slip through.

Not because it hadn’t meant something.

But because it had.

And that was the problem.

Two classes later, the cheer squad headed to the field for afternoon practice. Taehyung had also changed into their workout uniform: tight short joggers, a cropped hoodie with a mesh top underneath, and his signature glare.

Taehyung's jaw tightened as they entered the field and heard the distinct thud of cleats hitting the turf.

The football team was still present.

Of course they were.

He saw Jungkook first—standing close to the goalpost, wiping sweat from his neck, shirt stuck to his back. Damp hair, flushed skin from working hard, like every fucking sports anime hero ever coming to life.

Taehyung hated him.

Which is why he had to speak.

The football team’s practice had barely ended when the cheer team strolled onto the field.

Taehyung twirled his pom-poms once for show, before dramatically tossing them onto the grass near the end zone. With a sharp, clear voice, he yelled, "Jungkook, tell your idiots to stop leaving cleat marks all over our corner of the field."

As though the voice had pulled him back in time, Jungkook stopped in the middle of wiping. His eyes scanned, then locked as his head turned. He was directly in front of Taehyung.

Not flushed. Not fidgeting. Not the same omega Jungkook had kissed through moans and praises two nights ago. This version of him stood with fire in his eyes and a challenge on his tongue. And Jungkoo hated how between both it made him look like he was the one being affected by all that.

Jungkook’s throat bobbed.

“Oh?” he said, casual as he slung his towel over his shoulder, though his pulse kicked up a notch. “Didn’t realize you owned this field.”

He smirked, teeth flashing.

“It’s a football ground, pup. Better take your glitter parade somewhere else.”

Pup.

Taehyung’s breath hitched.

Because that word—

That fucking word.

That was what Jungkook had growled into his neck as he sank into him, voice dark with need: “Good pup. Just like that. Taking me so well.”

Taehyung could still feel the ghost of it against his skin.

He clenched his fists, fury surging through him in molten waves. Right. This was real Jungkook. The infuriating, smug, insufferable alpha who probably thought it was funny to mock him now, to play his own heat against him like some power move.

This was why he should never have let it happen.

He sucked in a breath and took a step forward, teeth bared. “Careful, Jeon. You sound like you miss our little ‘parade.’”

Jungkook’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. And Taehyung caught it. The hidden innuendo not lost on both.

Jungkook didn’t answer. Because he didn’t have to. Taehyung already knew.

He knew Jungkook was trying to provoke him. Knew the alpha wanted to drag him back into their usual bickering routine, because ignoring each other had been way too raw, too honest.

So Taehyung gave in. Because fighting? Fighting he could handle.

Pretending? He’d always been terrible at pretending.

“Oh they are back at it, their maturity didn’t even last a full day,” Seokjin commented from the sideline,

Namjoon looked between the two glaring idiots across the field. ”They’re going to kill each other one day,” he said flatly.

“Nope,” Jimin piped up, slurping loudly from his juice box. “They’re going to screw. Loudly. And possibly break something in the process. A desk, a wall, maybe a bed,”

Seokjin choked on his laughter. “Jimin!”

“What? I am just saying what everyone’s thinking,”

Just then from the locker room, Yoongi came out with a towel hanging over his shoulder. He walked to Jungkook calling him out, “Yo, lover boy,” watching as Jungkook nearly barked back at Taehyung. “Let’s go, you’ve already missed three lectures this term. Professor Park nearly murdered me just for mentioning your name.”

That made Jungkook groan, slumping a little as Yoongi thudded a hand onto his back.

“Shit,” Jungkook muttered. “I forgot about class.”

Across the field, Taehyung visibly froze mid-rant, blinking. “Oh my god, class—Seokjin! Didn’t Professor Park say she’d file a report if I skipped another?”

Seokjin gave a low whistle. “She did. Something about ‘final warnings’ and ‘academic consequences.’ You know, casual threats.”

Jimin beamed while taking Taehyung’s wrist to pull him away. “Looks like the universe finally decided to be fun today.”

“No please, not today,” Taehyung groaned whilst letting himself dragged away,

Jungkook meanwhile walked to the locker room with Namjoon and Yoongi.

“You’d think you two were allergic to peace,” Namjoon said.

“We are peaceful,” Jungkook snapped. “Until he opens his mouth.”

Yoongi pondered with amusement gleaming on his features, “Funny how he said exact thing last week,”

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

Taehyung and Jungkook arrived simultaneously, just seconds before the lecturer was scheduled to start, as fate (or karma) would have it.

Regretfully, they arrived at the classroom door together and immediately came to a stop, shoulder to shoulder, without moving.

“You move,” Taehyung snapped, eyes narrowed.

Jungkook scoffed. “Why should I? I got here first.”

“Your foot hit the threshold, not your entire body,” Taehyung shot back. “Basic rules of space, dumbass.”

“It’s a door, not a border checkpoint.”

“Then step the hell aside, Jeon.”

“You first, glitter.”

Their bickering grew sharper—snapping insults like second nature, oblivious to the amused (and tired) glances from their classmates slowly filtering into the room around them.

And then—

“Ahem,” a loud voice boomed from behind them.

They froze.

Professor Park stood at the door, arms folded, expression unimpressed.  “Unless this is some reenactment of a skit I am unaware of, I suggest you take your seat. Now”

Taehyung's face flushed with shame. He bowed his head and slipped inside, saying, "Sorry, professor."

With a sigh, Jungkook followed, complaining, "Unbelievable," as he narrowly avoided colliding with Taehyung's shoulder.

Professor Park snapped her fingers and said, "Okay, relax," in a firm yet lighthearted tone. Glancing down at her clipboard, she strode to the front of the room, her heels clicking on the tile floor. "Well Mr. Jeon. Mr. Kim. Thank you both for joining us today finally."

Taehyung crouched lower in his seat, hiding his face with the scarf while Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. Snickers echoed around the room.

“I expect full attendance from here on out,” she continued, raising a brow. “No exceptions—unless you're on the verge of winning us nationals or setting a world record in gymnastic flips.”

“Now,” Professor Park resumed, “for those who weren’t here last week—this week’s observational analysis project groups have already been finalized. No switching.”

Taehyung shot Jimin a look. “What’s happening?”

Jimin suddenly found his juice bottle very interesting.

“Those who couldn’t choose their own pairs, are randomly put in a group. As already said no switching would be accepted now,”

Groans echoed through the lecture hall. Taehyung slouched lower in his seat. 

Beside him, Seokjin leaned over and whispered, “Calling it now. You're gonna get paired with Jungkook. Karma’s got her knife out.” 

Taehyung shot him a withering look. ““Don’t say that—Jimin!” Taehyung hissed. “Tell me you wrote our names together.”

Jimin didn’t even lift his eyes.

The professor began reading off names. “Jimin with Yerin."

Taehyung’s head whipped around. “What?!”

“Sooyoung with Namjoon. Taehyung with—”

Please be anyone. Anyone but him.

“—Jeon Jungkook.”

Taehyung froze. Jin choked on his water so violently he had to slap his chest.

Jimin began to whistle naively while staring at the ceiling.

In contrast, Jungkook appeared to have been struck by a textbook. His legs had been propped up idly, but as he straightened and turned to face Taehyung across the room, his eyes dark and his expression unreadable, they fell to the floor.

“Groups, find a spot and begin,” Professor Park said briskly once she was done calling out names - without even giving them a reason to protest, “I want outlines by the end of the hour.”

Taehyung stood stiffly, his legs oddly heavy as he moved across the room and took the seat next to Jungkook at the front.

He didn’t look at him. Jungkook didn’t either.

The space between them was thick. Too quiet. Finally, Taehyung broke it, flipping his pen in hand. “Behavioral patterns in close environments. That’s the topic.”

“Ironic,” Jungkook muttered. Taehyung turned his head slowly. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook said, not looking up. “Just thinking how we might be the worst people to observe someone else’s behavior when we can’t even make eye contact.”

Taehyung scoffed. “We can pretend to be civil for one assignment. Not that hard,”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Jungkook sneered back in a dry tone as he wrote something down in his notebook.

Taehyung stared. For a second too long. He looked so... unaffected. Bored, even. His gaze flicked to Jungkook’s neck—clean. No scent. No trace. The alpha had practically erased it all.

“Still wearing blockers?” he asked, voice flat.

Jungkook’s hand paused mid-word. His jaw clenched. “I could ask you the same.”

They were both quiet. Until Jungkook finally turned and looked at him—slow, steady, intense.

“You really want to talk about that right now?”

“No,” Taehyung snapped. “Just surprised you managed to scrub the smell off so quickly. Thought it’d linger longer.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed. “What smell?”

“You tell me,” Taehyung leaned forward, voice dropping, sharp. “You were the one who liked to keep smelling of the omega they spent the night with”

Jungkook’s chair creaked as he leaned forward too, lips curving in a dangerous smirk. “And you were the one moaning with your face in my neck throughout that night.”

Taehyung’s mouth parted—but no sound came. Just... silence. Thick. Loaded. Heavy. He yanked back suddenly, cheeks hot. “I had a reason, I was vulnerable. What’s your excuse?”

Jungkook looked caught. Like he hadn’t expected that.

Taehyung pounced. “Yeah? You were the one who offered first. So what, Jeon? What was your reason?”

“I was being a responsible alpha!” Jungkook snapped, eyes flashing. “I wasn’t going to leave you alone while you were in heat—what kind of asshole do you think I am?”

“Maybe the kind whose wolf clearly likes me more than its human side does,” Taehyung muttered darkly. “Because clearly someone was worried. And clearly someone couldn’t stand the thought of me being with anyone else.”

Jungkook scoffed. “Oh you wish it were true but sadly for you right now my wolf is clawing out right now just to shut that mouth of yours.”

Taehyung smiled sweetly. “Then tell your wolf to get in line.”

They glared at each other. One breath. Two. Taehyung then flipped to a blank page and turned away.

"Come on, let's just do this fucking assignment already." He snapped, "I can stop caring about you existing the sooner we're done."

Although Jungkook remained silent, his jaw was so clenched that his teeth might break.

For the rest of the lecture, they didn't speak to each other, save for a few words. When it finishes, they turn in their outlines.

In dead silence, they walked out of the lecture hall. Jimin was laughing into his sleeve behind them, and Namjoon complained to Seokjin about the future need for popcorn.

Jungkook and Taehyung paced the hallway apart without speaking—until.

“Twice,” Taehyung said abruptly, eyes fixed forward, voice clipped.

Jungkook blinked and turned his head slightly. “What?”

“We meet twice,” Taehyung repeated. “Place to be decided on spot. That’s it. No extra hours. No lingering. No... breathing near each other.”

Jungkook scoffed, resting his arms back around his neck. “Like I’d want to breathe near you.”

“Good,” Taehyung replied coolly. “Then we’re on the same page.”

“Perfect.”

“Great.”

They pretended not to be completely aware of each other's existence, down to the millimetre, and walked in awkward silence for a while.

Jungkook was just about to ask, “So when and where are we meeting first—” when—

“Seojoon hyung!!”

Mid-syllable, Taehyung's whole tone changed. His head jerked up, eyes bright and wide. In his throat, Jungkook's words died.

The omega ran so fast with a skip in his steps.

Jungkook frowned, craning his neck as he followed Taehyung’s movement down the corridor—and there, just outside the Dean’s office, stood him.

Alpha Park Seojoon. Tall. Broad. Smiling like the sun.

Jungkook’s frown deepened.

Taehyung practically ran to him, launching himself into the alpha’s open arms.

Seojoon chuckled, hugging him back with one hand tousling Taehyung’s hair like he was a beloved puppy. “Still dramatic as ever,” he teased.

“What are you even doing here?!” Taehyung squealed, clutching his arm.

“Needed some qualification docs from the admin. Figured I’d stop by,” Seojoon explained, ruffling his hair again.

“I thought you forgot about me after graduating,” Taehyung mock-whined, pulling back with a pout.

“Forget my favorite junior?” Seojoon said, voice fond. “Not in a million years.”

Taehyung giggled. He fucking giggled.

From where Jungkook still stood, his jaw ticked hard enough to ache. His fingers curled against the books.

“Oh no,” Hoseok’s voice chimed beside him. Jungkook flinched.

Hoseok had just stepped out of a nearby lecture hall, backpack slung over one shoulder. “Your least favorite person is here, I see.”

Jungkook didn’t look at him. “Why’s he even here? He’s already graduated.”

“Could be some work related,” Hoseok said casually, eyeing Seojoon. “Cool guy. Never got why you disliked him so much.”

Jungkook scowled. “He talks like he owns the place.”

“He was student council president, you know. And the football captain.”

“Exactly. Lost count how many times he had benched me, good thing he left. ” 

Hoseok side-eyed him knowingly. “Right. Nothing to do with the fact that Taehyung always turns into a literal sunbeam around him.”

Jungkook didn’t answer. But his eyes didn’t move from them either.

Seojoon was saying something with a warm grin, and Taehyung’s laugh rang like bells. There was something different about the way Taehyung looked at Seojoon—unguarded. Peaceful. Jungkook had seen Taehyung flirt with alphas before, brush past them with snide smirks and cocky grins. But never like this.

With Seojoon, it was... soft. Familiar. Real.

Jungkook’s teeth ground together. And then Taehyung turned slightly, calling over his shoulder—loudly enough to carry down the corridor.

“Wow, I feel so much better now,” he said dramatically. “My whole day was so shitty, thanks to a certain someone, but now—!” He clung to Seojoon’s arm. “Now I’m in the best mood. Let’s go grab lunch!”

Seojoon chuckled, “Of course. My treat.”

Jungkook’s eye twitched. What even. He stepped forward instinctively, as if to follow—he didn’t even realize he was doing it—when two solid hands grabbed his arms from both sides.

Yoongi and Namjoon.

“Don’t,” Yoongi said, slapping his book against Jungkook’s chest. “Just don’t.”

“You’ve got a game to practice for,” Namjoon added, calm and rational. “You want to be in top shape, not in a petty argument that ends in a headbutt.”

Jungkook grumbled, “I wasn’t gonna fight anyone—”

“You weren’t gonna, but you were about to,” Yoongi muttered, tugging him back.

Jungkook didn’t argue. However, he never took his eyes off Taehyung's back.

He saw them leave shoulder to shoulder. Seojoon leant in as if it were natural to be near Taehyung, who was laughing about something.

By the time they arrived at the practice field, Jungkook's hands were still clenched.

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

The restaurant was warm and inviting, with a small corner table by the window that was illuminated by the dying sun's golden rays. Plates clattered, jazz played softly in the background, and Taehyung was laughing while using a napkin to dab at the corner of his mouth.

"Hyungsik hyung really crashed at your place again?" Taehyung asked between guffaws.

Seojoon winced. "Again. This is the third time this month. He keeps appearing at midnight like a raccoon that has no home."

Taehyung laughed even harder, reclining into his chair. "He cannot be an adult. I swear I have no idea how he even made it through college,”

“He didn’t” Seojoon replied fondly, “I dragged him along with me,”

They laughed again, laughing that softened the sharp edges of the day. However, it settled during dessert. The energy wavered slightly, hardly at all.

After fidgeting with his coffee, Seojoon turned to face Taehyung more warily.

"And at home?" he said softly. "How are things… actually?"

Taehyung's smile faltered. He studied his plate, prodding his half-eaten pasta with his fork.

He pushed a tomato hard with his knife. "Usual," he growled. "Though that man's been out for weeks, so… yeah. There's some breathing room."

Seojoon's jaw clenched a bit. He gently touched Taehyung across the table with his warm hand.

"Hey," he murmured. "You do realise that I'm still here? You call me if anything—anything—occurs. I'll be there whether it's three in the morning or midnight."

With a tiny, appreciative smile, Taehyung's eyes shot up to meet his.

"I know, hyung," he replied, voice softer now. "Thanks. Truly. But… I've learned to ignore it. Like it's not there. I don't care about him anymore. I'm finished with playing the good child."

Seojoon's thumb stroked the back of his hand in a silent comfort. "You were always better than what they provided."

“Too good, too loud, too much,” Taehyung said with a sad smile. “Depends on who you ask.”

“I’ll always say not enough,” Seojoon murmured.

That silence that followed wasn’t heavy. It was filled with understanding.

Then Seojoon sat back with a grin, switching tones. “So, I was at the game last weekend.”

“Oh yeah?” Taehyung perked up, grateful for the change. “Did the team impress the legendary ex-captain?”

Seojoon chuckled. “The guys played great. Honestly, the team’s sharp this season. Clearly running off a strict regimen.”

“Well, Jungkook’s keeping them in good shape,” Taehyung said while swirling the straw in the drink, not looking up.

Seojoon smirked. “He’s better than I was, honestly.”

Taehyung’s head snapped up. “I can’t believe you are saying this. You used to bench him constantly. And didn’t you make him run extra laps that one summer for skipping a meet?”

Seojoon laughed, unrepentant. “Oh that? I provoked him on purpose.”

Taehyung blinked. “What? Why?”

“Because that alpha plays like a beast when he’s pissed off,” Seojoon said, smirking. “And nothing made him angrier than me.”

“He always acts like someone’s standing on his tail half the time, it’s not only you”, Taehyung rolled his eyes. “But what would make you think so?”

“Oh where would be fun if I told you,” Seojoon grinned, leaning in conspiratorially.

Taehyung didn’t like the hidden innuendo in Seojoon’s words, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “Whatever, I still think he’s just all aggression,”

“That’s just him,” Seojoon shrugged. “High-strung. But damn if he’s not a prodigy. That boy was born to lead. He just doesn’t know how to switch it off.”

“Still,” Taehyung mumbled, “He doesn’t have your calm.”

“Because he doesn’t want calm, Taehyung,” Seojoon said knowingly. “He wants chaos. Or maybe… he’s just always been drawn to the one thing that unsettles him.”

Taehyung looked up. Seojoon just smiled.

Back in his flat, the blue light of Jungkook’s laptop screen reflected off his glasses as he sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through half-formed ideas for the observational analysis project. A Word doc sat open, with the title “Behavioral Patterns in Close Environments” blinking back at him. And below it—nothing.

The pulse in his neck throbbed in annoyance. He breathed out loud and relaxed into the couch, eyes darting towards the still phone that lay beside him.

His fingers quivered. He picked up the phone. Unlocked it.

Opened the messaging app.

His thumb hovered over the chat labeled “Glitters”—a nickname he had jokingly used once and Jungkook had never bothered to change. The chat was empty. No message history. 

He clicked on it anyway. Stared at the blinking cursor in the text bar.

Then typed:

"So… when are we meeting for the assignment?"

He stared at it for a second. Then deleted it.

Rewrote it.

Deleted it again.

Tch.

Finally, he grumbled, “Screw it,” and hit the call button instead, throwing his arm over the back of the couch as the phone rang against his ear.

Once…

Twice…

Three times…

“Pick up, dammit,” he muttered.

On the fifth ring, the line clicked—and a familiar voice answered, “Who’s this?”

Jungkook’s brow furrowed, scoffing. “You don’t even have my number saved?”

There was a pause on the other side.

“Jeon?” Taehyung’s voice sharpened. “Wtf? Why are you calling me?”

“What do you think, glitters?” Jungkook snapped. “The assignment. We didn’t decide where or when we’re meeting again.”

Taehyung fell silent once more, and when he did speak, it was in a low, preoccupied tone. “You could’ve just told me tomorrow.”

“Well, sorry if I actually believe in planning ahead—”

“And where did you even get my number from?” Taehyung interrupted.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “From the cheer group chats.”

Before Taehyung could retort, a muffled voice called out from behind him, “Tae! Hurry up—!”

Jungkook’s expression instantly soured. He didn’t even need to guess. He recognized that voice.

Seojoon.

He tightened his jaw.

Taehyung's next words, "Just a sec—yeah, I'm coming," were quieter, suggesting that he may have partially obscured the speaker.

"Ignore it," Jungkook growled.

Without pausing for a response, he hung up the phone and tossed it onto the couch, where it bounced once and landed face-down.

Taehyung blinked as the call came to a sudden end in another part of town.

He lowered his phone slowly. “Seriously? He hung up on me?”

“You okay?” Seojoon asked, leaning forward from the passenger seat.

Taehyung shook his head. “Yeah, it was nothing. Just… weird timing.”

From the driver’s side, Hyungsik grinned. “Come on, Tae, hop in! Seojoon told me you two were hanging out so I thought I’d drop you off. Dorms first.”

Taehyung smiled sheepishly and slid into the backseat, saying, "Thanks, Hyung." He had buckled up, but his thoughts were still racing, still focused on that strange, tense phone call.

Back in his flat, Jungkook didn’t sit back down. Instead, he grabbed his jacket from the chair, ran a hand through his hair, and dialed Hoseok.

“Yo,” came Hoseok’s voice.

“Where’s that party you were talking about earlier?” Jungkook asked, trying to sound casual. Detached.

There was a pause, then Hoseok replied slowly, “Since when do you call me for party locations?”

“Since now.”

“You good?”

Jungkook shut his eyes for a beat. “Yeah. Just need a refresh.”

Hoseok didn’t buy it, but he didn’t press. “Alright. I’ll text you the address. Come chill. It’s a rooftop place, lots of drinks,”

Jungkook muttered under his breath. “Perfect.”

Because whatever this weird ache in his chest was—it wasn’t real. He needed to shake it off. Get his head back on straight.

Go back to how he used to be.

No omega on his mind. No tight throats over a phone call. Just music, drinks, and distraction. Lots of distractions.

Once the address was sent in his inbox, Jungkook left the apartment.

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

The college library's tall windows let in a lot of dusty afternoon light, which fell in golden slants on the long mahogany tables. And then, amidst that peaceful ambiance, them.

Taehyung and Jungkook.

Sitting side by side.

Not yelling.

Not throwing sarcastic insults.

Not attempting to trip each other under the desk.

Just… sitting.

That alone was enough for half the library to do a double take. From behind bookshelves and computer monitors, students stole glances. Some nudged their friends. Others outright gawked.

Because the college was used to seeing these two fighting—across corridors, during practice, in cafeteria queues. Not… sitting together like this.

Currently silent—save for the sharp, passive-aggressive pencil taps and heavy sighs that came every three minutes. No scent blockers today. And you could feel the unease in the air. They were obviously not happy to be so close to each other.

Notes of cedar and burnt sugar—tense and tightly coiled—accompanied Jungkook's scent. In Taehyung, there was a bitter, pungent air about like dried roses—angry, anxious, and obstinately haughty.

Taehyung sat stiffly, arms crossed and a scowl carved into his face. Jungkook sat with his hood up and clenched jaw, his tablet being used to scroll through notes.

The omega didn’t want to notice it, but he did. The faint lingering marks on the Alpha’s neck, not fresh enough to bleed scent, but visible if you looked long enough. He didn’t smell like anyone else today. Not like last time.

Not that it mattered. He shouldn’t be looking. Whatever Jungkook did with his nights wasn’t his business.

But still, his hand tightened on the edge of the desk.

He turned back to his open notebook and tried to focus.

“I told you this section doesn't align with the core behavioral theory,” Taehyung hissed under his breath, flipping a page with too much force.

“And I told you we’re not rewriting it again. This is the third time you’ve changed it.” Jungkook leaned closer, whisper-hissing. “This project isn’t about your aesthetic instincts, Taehyung. It’s analysis.”

“Maybe if you had instincts beyond ‘grunt and flex,’ this would be done already.”

“Okay, say that again and I swear—”

Thud.

The librarian appeared out of nowhere, arms crossed, her glare icy. “That is the third time, gentlemen. One more, and you’re both out.”

They both muttered apologies, glaring at each other with barely-contained loathing.

“I have training in an hour,” Jungkook whispered harshly. “Can we please just divide the sections and leave?”

“Oh, you have training? I have cheer practice, which, might I add, involves acrobatics and actual physical coordination—unlike just chasing balls.”

Jungkook exhaled hard, gripping his pen like it offended him. 

It took exactly ten more minutes—two minor eye-roll wars, one stolen highlighter, and zero consensus on their outline—before the librarian returned with her final strike.

“Out,” she said firmly, pointing to the door.

Both rose from their seats with synchronized groans.

As they exited the library, several students leaned toward their friends in disbelief.

Outside, the golden hour sun lit their scowling faces as they stood near the fountain.

“Public places are disaster,” Taehyung declared, arms crossed.

Jungkook scoffed, adjusting his backpack. “We can’t focus. And everyone’s staring a little too much.”

“So no more campus spots.”

“Agreed.”

A beat passed.

Then Taehyung sighed dramatically. “Your place or mine first?”

He visibly cringed at just asking.

“Mine,” Jungkook said, not missing a beat. “Less pink. Less perfume.”

“You wish you could afford my perfumes.”

“You wish you could afford my gym set.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Fine. Tomorrow, 5 PM. We finalize structure, divide sections. No more than two hours.”

“I’ll set a timer.”

“Make sure it beeps loud enough to shut you up when it goes off.”

They parted ways with matching grimaces, already dreading their next meet

They had made up their minds to keep it simple. Efficient. Minimal. Professional.

They were definitely not going to enjoy each other’s company. And they wanted to get done with the assignment as soon as possible to avoid being in the same presence.

But the universe? It had other plans.

The field was abuzz when they got there, late sun falling long shadows across the grass. The cheer and football teams were both clustered near the benches, strangely still. Something was. off. Uneasy.

Jungkook shifted the buckle on his kit bag, side-glancing at the tight huddle. "What's with the gloomy mood?"

Taehyung, trailing behind with Seokjin and Jimin, frowned as well. “Did Coach finally quit on you all?”

Before they got a reply, both cheerleading Coach Hwang and football Coach Park turned toward them mid-discussion.

“Ah, just the people we needed,” Coach Hwang said with an eerie brightness in her voice.

“What’s going on?” Taehyung asked warily.

Coach Hwang clapped her hands. “Big news. We’ve got the Saint John’s game in two months.”

A ripple of groans passed through both teams.

Taehyung’s nose wrinkled instantly. “Ugh. Them again?”

“Yup,” said Jimin. “Didn’t you almost break your ankle last time trying to outflip their captain?”

“Don’t remind me,” Taehyung snapped. “Their cheer squad is too flashy. I hate their routines. Always showing off like they’re better than us.”

Seokjin snorted. “Isn’t that exactly what you do?”

Taehyung whipped around. “I do it with class.”

Coach Park stepped forward. “This year, we’re changing our strategy. Something new, something impactful.”

“We’re combining forces,” Coach Hwang said cheerfully. “We’ve decided the cheer squad and the football team will work on a collaborative performance for halftime.”

Taehyung blinked. “What?”

Jungkook deadpanned. “I’m not dancing.”

“And I’m not letting cleats-wearing ogres lift me in my formations!” Taehyung yelled.

The coaches ignored them both.

Coach Hwang continued, “We’re choosing four football players to participate, along with the captains leading the routine.”

Taehyung’s eyes went wide. “No—no. No no no. You’re not serious.” 

Coach Park just smiled. “You’re the captain, Taehyung. And so is Jungkook. It wouldn’t make sense to not have you two front and center.” 

Jungkook looked like someone had kicked him. Taehyung looked like he might faint. 

Seokjin muttered under his breath, “I swear the universe just lives to mess with you two.” 

Jimin leaned over with a smirk, “Karma said, ‘I’m gonna get you bitches together one way or another.’” 

And as Taehyung turned to glare at Jungkook—who was already glaring back—the rest of the squad collectively braced themselves. Because if being forced into an assignment wasn’t bad enough, now they had to perform together. 

In matching uniforms. 

In sync. In front of a whole stadium. 

Jungkook turned to his coach, exasperated. “Hyung, seriously?”

Coach Park shrugged. “You can bench press 200 pounds but you’re afraid of a cheer pyramid?”

Jungkook groaned into his hands. “This is a nightmare.”

Taehyung was near hyperventilating. “I refuse. I refuse. I’ve trained my team for two years. I don’t need football boys messing up our routine!”

Coach Hwang didn’t blink. “You’re the captain, Taehyung. This is about leadership. And you’re performing. With Jungkook. Front and center.”

Yoongi muttered, “Yup. They’re gonna burn this whole field down.”

Taehyung and Jungkook slowly turned to face each other—matching expressions of fury and dread.

“I will not do lifts with you,” Taehyung hissed.

“Oh trust me,” Jungkook snapped, “I wouldn’t lift you if you paid me.”

“I’d rather fall flat on my face than be caught in sync with you.”

Jungkook leaned in. “Perfect. I hope you do. In front of a stadium.”

“I’ll take you down with me.”

Coach Park clapped once. “Great energy, kids! Channel that into the routine.”

Coach Hwang nodded. “Rehearsals start next week,”

The rest of the squad—who had been trying not to look as horrified as they felt—visibly winced.

This wasn’t just going to be hard.

This was going to be a disaster—with glitter.

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

Taehyung stood stiffly outside Jungkook's apartment the next day, his hand tightening and loosening on his bag's strap. He would never say so, but his stomach churned.

He entered after Jungkook opened the door and went back without comment, moving towards his laptop on the dining table.

The apartment was neat. Immaculately so.

Suspiciously so.

And it smelled—unfairly—like Jungkook. Crisp pine, faint cedarwood, and something vaguely burnt sugar. Taehyung hated how it stuck to his senses, how nothing stopped his memory from conjuring that scent again and again.

He shut the door behind him.

“Shoes off,” Jungkook said flatly, not looking up from his screen. “My floor isn’t built to suffer your glitter boots.”

Taehyung arched his brow, taking off his shoes slowly. “Don’t worry. My glitter wouldn’t want to touch your sad tile anyway.”

Jungkook scoffed to himself—quick, hidden. He hadn’t meant to clean like a madman this morning, but the idea of Taehyung stepping into a mess had weirdly bothered him. So here he was—diffuser running in the corner, every dish scrubbed, even the couch fluffed.

Not that it meant anything. He just didn’t want the omega to find any fault and use it in their fights. That’s it.

They took their places at opposite ends of the dining table. Laptops opened. Notebooks spread out like some neutral barrier in a warzone.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Alright. The professor wants one case study split into two settings: group and private.”

“I’ll take private,” Taehyung said instantly, flipping his pen with flair. “You take the group setting.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “Why do you get to pick?”

“Because if I leave it to you, you’ll just choose something that inflates your ego. Like analyzing the cheer team’s obsession with you.”

“At least they don’t flee like you do every time I get within three feet,” Jungkook muttered, scrolling on his screen.

“I don’t flee. I walk—elegantly. Away. For survival.”

“From what? Me?”

Taehyung crossed his legs beneath the table, slow and deliberate. “From this wild, feral tension you carry around like it’s your brand.”

Jungkook looked up sharply. “Feral? You bit my shoulder.”

“That was a hallucination.”

“You moaned my name.”

“Heat. Hallucination.”

Taehyung’s jaw tightened. “Can we not talk about it?”

Jungkook didn’t push. His gaze dropped back to his notes.

“Fine,” he said. “Work now. Regret later.”

A couple hours later...

The room was silent except for the scratching of pens and the clacking of keys. The sound of Jungkook's refrigerator humming softly and the ticking of the wall clock were too loud in the quiet.

However, the quiet wasn't serene. It simmered.

Taehyung chewed on the cap of his pen, clicking through case examples. His lips pouted around the plastic, but Jungkook tried not to notice.

Behind his head, Jungkook extended his arms. His waist was visible as his hoodie rode up a little. And no, Taehyung stared longer.

“Time’s up,” Taehyung called out, right after closing his laptop.

Jungkook glanced at his watch. 6:59 PM. “You’re scared to stay longer.”

“I’m scared of wasting my time,” Taehyung retorted, standing. “Big difference.”

“You sure?” Jungkook leaned back, arms folded, voice too casual. “Because you look flustered.”

“I’m always flushed. It’s called having natural glow,” Taehyung shot back, 

“I’d call it denial.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “And I’d call this—goodbye.”

With disdain, he slid back into his glitter-rimmed shoes and spun on his heel.

Taehyung backed away, that fucking high-necked shirt creeping up just enough when he moved his bag strap, but Jungkook stayed in the doorway, teeth clenched, eyes fixed on the soft undulation of his hips. The door shut behind him.

But the smell wouldn't go away. That smooth, sinful vanilla clung to the air like a tease.

Jungkook exhaled sharply and muttered to himself, “Fucking hallucination my ass.”

He got up to stretch, attempting to brush it off when something distracted him on the floor under the table. A flash of soft beige. He bent down and picked up the dropped scarf—Taehyung’s.

Of course.

For a moment longer than necessary, he held it in his hand. It smelled faintly and was warm from the body of the omega. Jungkook grabbed his jacket with another snarled curse and fled.

He grumbled, "Just hand it back and forget it."

He ran down the stairs and out of the building. He looked around and that was when he saw Taehyung still outside, near the curb, scrolling through his phone, his steps wavering.

Just as Jungkook raised his hand to call out— A car pulled up in front.

And from it stepped Seojoon.

That annoying Alpha was all dazzling smiles and gentle charm as he grabbed Taehyung's bag in loose ease from his hand, mussing his hair like they were back in their senior-junior days. Taehyung smiled at him, laughing, as he buckled into the passenger seat. The door slapped shut, and the two drove off.

Jungkook stood there like a statue, the scarf still grasped in his hand, his jaw set and his fingers slowly closing around the fabric. His palm stung to throw it, ruin it, do something. Instead, he returned inside.

He stormed into his apartment, slammed the door shut behind him. The door shut with such a loud bang that it shook the picture frames.

Thud.

He dropped the scarf on the carpet of the hallway, stalked into the kitchen, and doubled back to glare at the offending article of clothing.

“Whatever,” he muttered. “Two cocky, stuck-up wolves. They’re a great match. Perfect for each other.”

He didn’t mean a word of it.

What irritated him more was the fact that he was the one still stuck in whatever-the-hell-this-was. Taehyung had a reason—he was in heat. He got to blame hormones. And Jungkook? Jungkook was stuck spiraling in a fucking dilemma with no convenient excuse.

He threw himself down on the couch, running a hand through his hair. “God, what is wrong with me?”

He remembered the party he went to two days back. The pounding music, the drinks, the omega that laughed at all his stupid jokes. She was hot, clingy, into him. Just the kind of distraction he needed. She kissed him hard, dragged him upstairs, moaning against his neck—

It should have worked, the way it always did. She was gorgeous, smelled nice, eager. 

But as her lips ghosted over his jaw and her body pressed against his—she mouthed at his neck, a silky ‘Jungkook-ah’ fluttering against his skin. 

And that’s when it hit. That voice.

That damn voice—smooth, velvet, and sarcastic—echoing in his ears like a ghost.

"Jungkook..please"

Even with her under him, nails on his back, lips at his throat—he couldn’t stop seeing Taehyung. Couldn’t stop hearing that voice. Couldn’t stop missing something.

All he could feel was another mouth on his skin. Another body under his. His fingers curled around the edge of the mattress. His wolf growled ‘wrong’.

The girl giggled, “You’re so stiff. Relax, alpha.”

Jungkook stood up suddenly, wearing his shirt back while mumbling, “Sorry. Can’t do this.”

She blinked. “Seriously?”

Though Jungkook was already out the room, slamming the door hard behind him. He left the party without a word. She texted once. He didn’t reply.

Jungkook with a groan rested his head back against the coach, “It wasn’t even that good, damn it,”

But his chest argued otherwise. It was good. It was fucking perfect. And that’s what the problem was.

He glared at the scarf lying across the room on the tile floor. “That irritating, smug, infuriating omega.”

Jungkook walked to it, picking it up again. His fingers curled around the soft fabric. He hated how gentle it felt in his hand. Hated the warmth it carried. Hated the way his body reacted.

He brought it close, scent still faint—but still there.

And then, with a curse under his breath and too much heat crawling up his neck to ignore, he stomped to the trash can, yanked open the lid—

And tossed it in.

The scarf settled against the side.

Jungkook stood there, staring at it.

Five seconds.

Ten.

And then he muttered under his breath, turning away before he could change his damn mind

“It’s not gonna me begging,”

Meanwhile,

Without much hesitation, Taehyung kicked off his shoes and rushed into the bathroom as soon as he slammed his dorm door behind him. His breath came in angry, guttural gasps, and his hands were already pulling at his shirt collar. His wolf growled beneath the surface, and his fingers trembled a little.

The scent.

That blasted pinewood and sandalwood smell had stuck to his clothes like they were meant to be there. Adhered to his skin like a burn mark. Made him grind his teeth and prickle his neck and all of him feel seared.

Taehyung was stripping down as soon as the bathroom door clicked shut. Everything landed in a heap on the tiled floor, including his pants, shirt, and hoodie. The icy water slammed down on his hot skin as he entered the shower and swung the knob as far to the left as he could.

“Fuck,” Taehyung cursed, letting the cold water falling over him, hoping it would cool down the fire burning within his body.

His forehead rested against the tile wall, the cold not doing anything, really.

“Stupid wolf,” he muttered under his breath. “Stupid instincts.”

The whole two hours with Jungkook had been a slow, torturous descent into madness. Every breath felt like a test. Every time the alpha leaned back in his chair, spread his legs even slightly, or rolled up his sleeves—it had triggered something deep, primal, and hungry in Taehyung.

And his wolf?

Absolutely lost its shit. The way he had to fight everything in his body to not let any of his thoughts show through his scent.

“Why him,” Taehyung whispered to no one, his voice shaking. “Why does it have to be him?”

He pressed both hands flat against the wall, eyes squeezed shut as the water poured over his back. Maybe it was because his heat had just ended a few days ago. Maybe being around the same alpha again—especially that alpha—had brought it all bubbling back up.

But no. It wasn’t just that.

Even Seojoon’s calming, familiar scent—someone his wolf had always responded well to—had done nothing. If anything, it made things worse. His wolf had flared up in rejection, craving only one thing.

One alpha.

Taehyung’s skin turned red as he scrubbed his arms frantically. In an attempt to remove any traces of pine, heat, and need, he poured body wash all over his neck, shoulder, and other areas. But it clung to his memory like a parasite.

“I hate him,” he muttered, lips trembling.

He hated how being around Jungkook made him feel. He hated the thoughts that slipped into his head when they were sitting too close. Hated the way Jungkook’s voice had sounded when it dropped low. Hated the image of those fingers flexing over a pen, and how for a split second, he’d imagined what else they could flex around.

Taehyung groaned aloud and banged his forehead against the tile.

Clunk.

“God, stop,” he hissed, curling his fingers against the wall. “Stop thinking about that asshole. You are not even in heat anymore,”

But it was useless. Because now his traitorous brain was whispering questions he couldn’t shut down.

What would it feel like if we did it outside of a heat? What if I was in control? Would it be slower? Rougher?

He banged his head again, water streaming down his face. “Kim Taehyung, get a fucking grip!”

This wasn’t just about a bad decision during heat anymore. This was something else. Something that made him restless, irritable, wanting. And he despised himself for it.

Because Jeon Jungkook was supposed to be the bane of his existence, not the one waking up in his fantasies.

“Next time,” he muttered, voice raw, “I’m taking double the blockers. And a goddamn cold compress.”

He stood under the water, breathing hard. The sensation left his fingers, and he stepped out with a heaving chest. With practiced anger, he dragged on fresh clothes, slathered himself with the harshest peppermint lotion he had, and dried off.

Erase the scent. Erase the thought.

Yet even as he flopped onto bed, phone in hand, the call log glowed up at him:

Unknown — 18:47 (1 min)

Unknown.

Right. He’d never saved Jungkook’s number—and he wouldn’t.

Still, his thumb hovered over the entry. The alpha's low scoff, "You're scared to stay longer," was almost audible to him.

Taehyung locked his phone screen and lied on his stomach with a sigh, burying his face into the pillow he mumbled, “Mood‑killer,” 

Though his racing heart said the opposite.

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

For the rest of the week, they were enveloped in a slow, bitter silence.

Taehyung and Jungkook were now avoiding one another like ticking time bombs. They glared so hard they might have drawn blood, and their shoulders purposefully touched as they passed in the corridors. However, they never spoke aloud.

Not a single word in person.

Only text.

 Clinical.

 Short.

 Dry.

Jungkook [Wed, 3:12 PM]:

 Done with the group part. Check your email.

Taehyung [Wed, 3:15 PM]:

 Received.

Taehyung [Fri, 7:09 PM]:

 Need clarification on question 4. The guidelines are vague.

Jungkook [Fri, 7:11 PM]:

Professor said to interpret freely. Just note it.

The tension was still there. Tangible. Buzzing around them even without proximity. Even their friends walked on eggshells.

The dreaded joint cheer-football practice was scheduled to start next week, and both alpha and omega were already bracing for chaos. For now, though, it was Friday, and a frat party was about to start.

Taehyung stood in front of his mirror, tinkering with the sleeve of his deep wine silk shirt, the collar slightly open to tease. His pants were tight black leather, and his makeup delicately framed his already dangerous face. He looked... good.

But he didn’t feel it. Not when he knew Jungkook would be there.

“Frat leader or not,” Taehyung muttered to himself, spritzing a final spray of scent blockers around his neck and collar, “I can handle one damn night without punching him.”

His phone buzzed.

Seojoon [7:48 PM]:

 Just got back with Hyungsik. Might swing by later if we survive this paperwork. You go ahead.

“Great,” Taehyung sighed and pocketed his phone.

He left his dorm to find Jimin and Seokjin waiting just outside the hallway. Jimin was dressed confidently in a glittery crop top and cargo pants, while Seokjin wore a deep green blazer with a harness and delicate gold chains.

Taehyung let out a low whistle, “Well, don’t we look like heartbreak?”

Jimin twirled dramatically. “We always do.”

Seokjin raised a brow as Taehyung looped an arm around both of them. “You’re wearing blockers again?”

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders, half-nervous, “Yeah. Just finished my heat. Don’t wanna set off any nose alarms.”

Seokjin narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. “You never wore blockers before unless—”

“I’m being cautious,” Taehyung cut in smoothly. “Now let’s just go,”

Warm light and bass-heavy music already filled the frat house. Bodies pressed together and moving on the makeshift dance floor, laughter resonating from corners, and fairy lights strung across walls.

When Taehyung walked into the room with Jimin and Jin at his sides like a king or queen, he immediately attracted attention. His aura was sharp, his scent was muted, and his face was unreadable.

After a few minutes, Jungkook spotted him, leaning near the DJ booth across the room from Hoseok and Namjoon. It was as if he could sense his presence alone or maybe it was how the crowd called out Taehyung’s name after seeing him. Of Course he was everyone’s favourite. 

And tonight, goddammit, tonight he looked like a salvation. A body built to sin, and eyes that promised you'd like it. The music dipped slightly as the song changed, but the blood rush in Jungkook’s ears stayed loud.

“Taehyung doesn’t know what it means to have a bad-day look,” Hoseok commented while sipping onto his drink,”

Jungkook didn’t say anything in return but his fists were clenched tight around his cup.

“You’re not gonna say hi?” Namjoon teased.

“What do you mean? Why would I go and say hi?” Jungkook roared back defensively,

Just then Taehyung passed by them, his eyes landing on Jungkook. Just for a second. Not a glare. Just... contact. Cold, sharp, and gone just as quick.

Jungkook turned away before he could show anything. 

The music was louder now, the lights lower. People were intoxicated, either fully or partially. As laughter echoed and bodies pressed close on the dance floor, the air was filled with excitement, alcohol, and a few too many scentless alphas attempting to mask their pheromones with cologne.

Taehyung kept himself busy by dancing with Jimin, laughing, and consuming sweet drinks. He was the embodiment of unaffected grace, but his inner wolf was restless.

Jungkook was here. He felt it more than he saw it. That presence was a pull in the air, a low thrum under his skin.

Taehyung turned when a soft tap came on his shoulder.

It was Seojoon.

“See. Told you I’d make it,” 

Taehyung beamed instantly, his face brightened up to see a familiar face that didn’t make him run into the walls.

“Thank god,” Taehyung exhaled. “I need rescue.”

Seojoon chuckled and handed him a drink. “Already here, your highness.”

From a few feet away, Jungkook stood near the pool table. He saw the exchange. The smile. The lean in. The hand on Taehyung’s back.

He looked away.

“Let’s play a round?” Namjoon asked beside him.

"Gonna grab another drink," Jungkook muttered, pushing by.

Yet he had already broken the cup in his fist.

Seojoon was leaning nonchalantly beside Taehyung, who was sitting with a drink in his hand. Seojoon spent most of the evening with Taehyung, a calming presence that managed to shut out the relentless hum under Taehyung's skin, and they had just completed a game of some ridiculous party game Hoseok had organized.

But it was inadequate.

Regardless of the number of jokes Seojoon told or how many times he placed his hand on Taehyung's wrist or shoulder while speaking to keep him focused, Taehyung's wolf was restless within him like a caged animal.

Because somewhere in this damn house… he was here.

Taehyung's eyes wandered.

And found Jungkook.

Naturally.

Jungkook was standing near the hallway entrance on the opposite side of the room, one arm dangling over the wall and holding an omega, the other hand gently brushing a lock of hair away from her face. She blushed and giggled, her gaze always on him.

Taehyung stopped.

The cup in his hand suddenly felt too cold.

“...You okay?” Seojoon asked, nudging his thigh slightly.

Taehyung blinked. “Yeah.”

Liar.

But Seojoon didn’t push. Instead, he followed Taehyung’s gaze—and spotted exactly what, or who, had stolen his attention.

Jungkook.

And the omega.

Seojoon chuckled. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Tae.”

Taehyung turned sharply. “What?”

“I mean,” Seojoon shrugged, sipping his drink. “It’s pretty obvious. You’ve been ignoring Jungkook all night, but you haven’t stopped tracking him.”

“I am not—” Taehyung cut off, clenching his jaw. “I don’t fucking care whatever he is up to”

But even he knew the words tasted sour in his mouth. Just then the omega Jungkook was talking to reached out to touch his chest - smiling as he leaned in to whisper in his ear.

Jungkook smiled. Said something back that made him laugh.

And just as he leaned forward again—Jungkook’s eyes flicked up.

Straight to Taehyung. Like a strike.

Taehyung’s breath caught.

Jungkook didn’t break eye contact as the omega pressed his body closer to him.

Taehyung looked away first. But not before Jungkook saw the storm flare in those eyes. Not before he saw Taehyung stiffen—just slightly, just enough.

He was at his breaking point. Everything felt oppressive: the chaos, the noise, the party. It was getting too much.

He needed fresh air. He needed space. So he turned to Seojoon and said in hurry, “I’ll be just back,”

Taehyung went up to one of the guest rooms amidst the clashing bodies and din.

Sighing, he shut the door behind him, immediately swallowed by the muted thump of bass outside. Over the mirror, the bathroom lights flickered. He turned on the faucet after he went over to the sink and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. In an effort to calm the abiding hum in his chest, he cupped some cold water and splashed it against his face, making it spill over his fingers.

All night long, his wolf had been tense. He took a slow sniff.

No matter how far he stayed away, something always itched inside him—for him. He exhaled hard, looking up at the mirror.

And froze.

Jungkook stood directly behind him, shoulder against the shut bathroom door, arms crossed over his chest, face expressionless but eyes. burning.

Taehyung's heart missed a beat. He spun around quickly. "What the devil—what do you want here?"

"I might ask the same of you," Jungkook said, opening the door and entering slowly and methodically, akin to a stalker. "You have been attempting to hide yourself from me."

Taking a step back, Taehyung scoffed. "Avoid making too many assumptions.”

Jungkook cocked his head and stopped walking. "No?" he said softly. "So why haven't you looked me in the eyes all night? Or, come to that, the whole week?"

Taehyung covered the unexpected flush in his throat with his crossed arms. "I have been occupied."

"You didn't even scream at me for not having the project's final draft ready," Jungkook continued, his eyes narrowing. "The old Taehyung would've torn my head off.

"I matured," Taehyung replied calmly. "Weary of wasting energy on condescending alphas."

Jungkook narrowed his eyes even further as the gap between them closed to inches.

That's when Jungkook bristled. His nostrils flaring. 

“You fuckign smell like that Alpha,” Jungkook yelled out,

Taehyung blinked. "What?"

“You reek of Seojoon.” Jungkook’s voice darkened, growling like it physically hurt him to say it. “Not even your own scent. Just his. You fucking masked yourself under another alpha.”

Taehyung gave an annoyed scoff and turned to leave. “It’s none of your business who I smell like Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s fingers curled around the back of Taehyung’s neck, pulling him back - not harsh but firm enough to make him freeze. Their chests nearly touching.

“You’re gonna wash it off,” Jungkook growled, advancing until Taehyung’s back hit the cool tiled wall.

Taehyung held Jungkook’s hand around his neck, staring at him stunned. “Are you out of your mind?!”

“I can’t smell you,” Jungkook said, chest heaving slightly. “I can’t smell anything that’s yours over that fucking Alpha’s scent.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened in disbelief, “What the fuck Jungkook-let me go,” He pushed onto Jungkook’s chest but it didn’t do anything to budge alpha at all.

“No you don’t get it. I hate this,” Jungkook sneered, his lips brushing against Taehyung's burning cheek. “I can’t smell you. Not even a trace.”

“So?” Taehyung snapped, eyes flashing. “What the hell do you care?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook hissed. “But it’s making me insane”

Taehyung tried to shove him away again, harder, “Get off. I am no way going out smelling like you,”

Jungkook’s grip only tightened. “But his is fine?”

“Yes!” Taehyung snapped, voice rising. “Because he’s someone I actually know! Someone with whom I am comfortable!”

Jungkook gave a crooked-dark smile, “Comfortable, huh? Then tell me, Glitters…” He leaned in, their lips nearly brushing. “Why was it me you spent your heat with?”

Taehyung’s face burned with half-fury, half-embarrassment, “Just go to hell,”

He pushed the alpha away with a harsh force, breaking the hold on him, “You find it funny? That you can mock me over one vulnerable moment? I hate you, Jungkook.”

Taehyung’s chest rose and fell fast. “This is your fault. I was fine before that night. Now everything’s—off. And I hate it.”

“Then why haven’t you scrubbed me out of your head yet?” Jungkook sounded dangerous. Quiet. Wounded. Not cocky as usual.

Taehyung with his chest heaving and teeth clenched stared at him. And he didn’t have an answer.

Because the truth was—he had tried. Every day. Every minute.

But Jungkook’s scent…

Jungkook’s voice…

Jungkook’s fucking everything had burrowed under his skin and refused to leave.

Taehyung swallowed hard. ”Because maybe I want you to fix it,”

Jungkook grazed his cheek against Taehyug’s in a soft touch, growling under his breath as he dragged his nose along the jaw whispering, “Then let me fix it, stop masking,”

Every cell in Taehyung’s body screamed to say yes. But-

“Jeon,” Taehyung warned, voice low and frayed, every syllable a trembling string holding him back.

But Jungkook…He didn’t move away.

He leaned back just enough to meet Taehyung’s eyes—lids heavy, breath shallow, and pupils wide. “You have no idea what it’s doing to me…” he rasped. “Not smelling you. Just give me that.”

Taehyung stood frozen, body pulled taut. His fists were curled tight at his sides. His heart pounded like it might crack open.

Outside, the party still pulsed. Laughter and bass echoed faintly beyond the door. Their friends were probably looking for them already. They’d been gone too long. Too long to explain.

But Jungkook’s primal - desperate voice against Taehyung’s lips had him rooted in his place. His warm breath brushed against his jaw.

Taehyung could even feel heat radiating off Jungkook’s body from how close they were, and could feel alpha’s strong rising scent, grounding him.

It replaced the subtle remnants of Seojoon’s cologne clinging to his clothes, burning it out like fire over dry leaves.

Then Jungkook’s lips ghosted over his neck—right at the spot just beneath his jaw. Softly in a feathery touch, his lips left a wet kiss on his pulse point.

Taehyung gasped. And then it broke.

His pheromones spilled out thick and sugary like a dam burst, filling the air with floral vanilla and shattering the blockers as if they didn't exist at all.

Jungkook groaned as though he'd just taken a deep breath for the first time in days. His nose scraped laboriously along Taehyung's skin, his face buried in the base of his throat. His voice was close to being reverent as he breathed, "God—there you are."

Taehyung's head tilted back a little. He detested the weakness in his knees. hated the sensation of Jungkook's breath against his neck and the way his wolf purred when he heard his voice.

He still hated the alpha.

He hated how cocky Jungkook was. How arrogant and annoyingly good at everything. He hated how Jungkook smelled—no, he hated how he loved the scent. Damn it.

Jungkook pressed closer, breathing him in deep. “You smell like—fuck, like you’re mine to—”

That snapped Taehyung back.

His eyes flew open, pupils sharp. “No,” he said, breath shaky but voice steady. “That’s enough.”

Jungkook, caught off guard, blinked in confusion, “What?”

Taehyung with jaws clenched took a step back on his shaky legs, “You got what you wanted. You can smell me now, right? So fuck off.”

Before Jungkook could respond, his back struck the door and he yanked it open. He ignored his body's cries to stay and simply melted into the pull as he left the guest room, sweat still trickling down the back of his neck.

He didn't turn around.

Inside, Jungkook stayed rooted in place. His breath was still uneven as he tilted his head up with a guttural-frustrated groan. 

“Dammit,” he cursed under his breath, “You said you wouldn’t beg,”

But that’s exactly what he did. He opened his eyes again, chest still tight—and all he could smell was him.

Back at the Dorms. Taehyung stumbled into the room, locking the door behind after turning on the lights.

He tossed his jacket aside and face-planted himself on the bed. His wolf was clawing at his ribs, whining every time the alpha’s eyes flashed behind his eyelids. Every time he remembered that voice saying “There you are.”

“Fuck you, Jeon,” he mumbled, forehead pressing into the pillow.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to keep happening. His entire body ached - not from heat, but from want. He clenched his thighs unconsciously and buried his face into the pillow, whining loudly.

He hated this. He hated him.

If it were any other night, any other alpha, he would’ve distracted himself. Flirted. Found someone else. But now?

His wolf pricked at the mere notion of another person.

He pulled the blanket up to his chest and curled up even more. He muttered, "You conceited piece of shit."

And under his breath, to the dark silence of the room, his voice cracked.

“Why did it have to be you?”

Chapter Text

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

Afternoon sunlight sieled hot and hard as the football squad finished practice on the field, sweat glistening on their bodies, jerseys sticking to their backs. The coach yelled out instructions to a few before they could make their way to the showers.

“Jungkook, you have to stay back. Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok and Junghyun, you too. Gymnasium. Cheer training.”

A round of groans erupted.

“No complaints. Move.”

With heavy steps they stomped towards the gym, with mutual irritated glances. Inside the gym, the cheerleading squad stood in line, amidst stretching and adjusting uniforms. Coach Hwang clapped her hands to gain everyone’s attention once Coach Park stood next to her, arms crossed.

Jungkook’s jaw tensed as his eyes barely flicked toward the familiar, infuriating omega standing on the other side—Taehyung was dressed in a fitted crop top and track pants, hair pushed back, looking unfairly composed.

Jimin and Seokjin were by the speaker, setting up music, while Taehyung stood at the front, clipboard in hand.

They didn’t make eye contact. Not once. They hadn’t spoken since the party.

Coach Hwang clapped to get attention. “Alright, team! We’re going to walk through the mixed routine. Taehyung, do you have the visual reference ready?”

Taehyung nodded crisply. “Yes, Coach.” He handed his phone over, and Jimin tapped the screen, playing a video, “We had the cheer team fill in the player roles”

He passed it to the coaches. The short clip played with the music pulsing through the speakers—sharp moves, well-timed transitions, lifts, turns.

Coach Hwang gave a small whistle. “Well that’s solid. Now let’s see if your boys can pull it off with the real thing.”

Though before anyone could say anything, Taehyung butted in, “I’d like Hoseok to be my lift partner,”

Jungkook who stood at the side, taking a sip from his water bottle, froze mid-swig, with brows twitching in irritation.

Hoseok blinked, “Huh?”

Coach Park and Hwang both shook their heads immediately.

“No,” Park cut in firmly. “We said it clearly. Captains are the highlight. Jungkook and Taehyung, you partner each other. End of discussion.”

Taehyung’s lips pressed into a thin line. Jungkook scoffed quietly. “Of course.”

They both glanced at each other. Glared. Then looked away in perfect sync with a simultaneous huff.

“Alright!” Jimin clapped. “Let’s start with basic moves. Just the walk-through. Gentle warm-up.”

They moved through the initial formations. The football players were stiff—movements jerky and mechanical like broken toy soldiers. Hoseok tried to guide Junghyun into a turn; Junghyun nearly tripped on his own foot.

Seokjin could barely hold back his laugh, “Why do you look like you are preparing yourself for an earthquake,”

Namjoon’s voice was flat. “Because I’m dancing. In public.”

Taehyung pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, you’re not here to seduce the floor, Namjoon. Lift your chin. Extend your limbs—gracefully, please.”

Yoongi flailed his arm. “Like this?”

“No, like a human. Not a traffic sign.”

Jungkook grunted as he tried a spin and nearly hit Jimin.

“Watch the elbows, Jeon,” Jimin hissed.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “I’m not a goddamn ribbon dancer.”

“Well, clearly,” Taehyung muttered, rubbing his temple. “Try to look like you want to be here.”

“I don’t.”

“Fantastic, that’s going to really help.”

“Alright, alright,” Coach Hwang clapped again, cutting the tension. “Enough snapping. Let’s go again from the top.”

As the music restarted, everyone groaned.

Taehyung muttered to himself, “I’m going to die before this routine sees the light of day.”

From across the gym, Jungkook shot him a glance and muttered under his breath, “Not if I kill you first.”

When their eye contact lasted longer than necessary, they both turned their faces away in frustration.

“Okay everyone,” Taehyung called out, trying to gain back his usual confidence, “Let’s just get done with the lifts first,”

He bit his cheek.

“Split lifts first—pair up. We’ll save mine for last,” he added quickly, eyes avoiding Jungkook’s altogether.

Jimin grinned, already jogging over to Yoongi. “Don’t drop me, grandpa.”

“Don’t kick me in the face, brat,” Yoongi shot back, but his hands were already positioned around Jimin’s waist.

Across from them, Namjoon and Junghyun lifted Seokjin with ease, the older omega laughing as he balanced himself perfectly in the air.

“Wow,” Coach Hwang said, visibly impressed. “Solid core control. Good form!”

Taehyung stared, lips parting in disbelief. Damn it. He was banking on them fumbling to buy himself more time—maybe even delay this entire nightmare to another day.

But now the coaches were already turning toward him and Jungkook, expectant.

Coach Park clapped once. “Alright, captains. You're up.”

Taehyung swallowed. His fingers flexed nervously as he stepped forward, twisting his neck to the side and rolling his shoulder.

Jungkook mirrored him on the other side, clenching his jaw, shaking his arms, and taking deep breaths. His brows furrowed as he turned to face Taehyung.

"How on earth do you intend to jump that high?" With his knees slightly bent and his arms poised, Jungkook muttered.

Taehyung ignored him. “I’m lighter than I look.”

“That’s not the reassuring statement you think it is.”

“Just catch me, Jeon,” he snapped, and with a determined exhale, sprinted the small distance and leapt off the floor.

Pushing up as directed, Jungkook caught his feet in midair, but their rhythm and balance were off, and Taehyung slipped and wobbled in half a second.

“Shit—!”

Jungkook caught Taehyung in his arms just in time before he could have a hard fall. They both rolled back on the back with Taehyung landing on Jungkook’s chest, sprawled out.

“You dropped me!” Taehyung groaned, glaring up at him.

“You wriggled like a fucking worm!” Jungkook growled back. “How am I supposed to balance you when you’re twisting in the air like that?”

“Maybe try using actual strength instead of just your looks!”

“Maybe try being grateful I didn’t let you crack your spine!”

“Okay, okay!” Coach Hwang cut in before they could escalate. “That’s enough. You’re both dramatic. Let’s try again.”

Groaning in unison, they got up, patting themselves - displeased with the whole situation.

Jungkook muttered to himself, "This is going to be a mess."

With narrowed eyes, Taehyung answered, "Then don't mess it."

Attempt two went no better.

Jungkook’s timing was late. Taehyung’s footing was wrong. Again, they stumbled, though this time Jungkook let him down slower to avoid another fall.

Coach Park pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright. Everyone else—great work. You’re dismissed.”

The rest quickly fiddled out of the field, grateful for the escape.

“Captains, stay back,” Coach Hwang said sharply, voice leaving no room for argument. “You two need to fix this. Fast.”

“What’s the point if we can’t even lift properly?” Jungkook muttered under his breath.

“The point,” Coach Park interjected, “is that your teams look up to you both. If you can’t function together, the rest of them won’t either.”

“Sort it out. Practice longer. Figure it out,” Coach Hwang added. “We want to see a clean lift—even if just for a second—before you leave today. No exceptions.”

Taehyung and Jungkook shared another reluctant glance, both already simmering.

And so, they began again. Attempt after attempt.

Each time just off. Each time more frustrating.

Jungkook wiped sweat off his brow. “You really want to keep doing this for the whole day?”

Taehyung snapped, “I didn’t choose this, Jeon.”, he whispered, low but clear, “I just want to go back. So for once, drop the damn ego and let it work.”

Jungkook’s eyes didn’t leave his. His jaw ticked. “Then show me why you’re so special. So far all I’ve seen is you being good at falling.”

Taehyung scowled—but it made him push harder.

This time, he didn’t wobble.

His spine straightened. Arms raised. Chin high.

And Jungkook? He held steady. Sweat trickled down his temple as he exhaled through his nose, grounding his feet and locking his wrists as his biceps strained visibly.

Five seconds passed.

Five whole seconds where they weren’t Taehyung and Jungkook. They were just base and flyer—perfectly in sync.

Until the tremble in Jungkook’s arms crept in and he gently lowered Taehyung to the mat with a soft thud.

Coach Park clapped. “Finally. That’s what I’m talking about.”

Coach Hwang nodded. “Keep up this spirit and we might just make that highlight lift work.”

With half a nod, Taehyung was already off the mat, hair stuck to his face from sweat, and his chest humming a bit from effort. He growled that he was going to change, grab his bag, and head off to the men's locker room.

By this time it was mostly empty, filled with the distant hum of fluorescents and the gentle roar of a single shower.

Taehyung removed his clothes after opening his locker. His phone buzzed—Jimin’s text popped up on the screen:

Jimin: We left! Waiting in dorm. Don't take forever, diva.

Taehyung rolled his eyes fondly, typing a quick reply:

 On the way soon.

Stepping toward his locker, he nonchalantly jammed in his pom-poms and equipment, producing a clean set of clothes and a little towel. His crop top stuck to his back, drenched with sweat, exposing the curve of his lower back above the waistband of his slacks.

He stepped back to go to the shower, but—

SLAM.

With a sharp metallic bang, the locker door slammed behind him.

Startled, Taehyung jumped and was face-to-face with Jeon Jungkook, who was sweaty, had a fixed jaw, and had shadowed eyes. Crazed.  He had a hand on the locker, trapping Taehyung between himself and the chilly metal.

“Jeon—?”

He didn’t finish. Because next thing he knew there were lips on his own.

Warm. Bruising. Insistent.

His gasp was swallowed, knees almost buckling when Jungkook wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him in. Taehyung's back crashed into the locker with a metallic thud, metal cold on his spine, a contrast to the heat spreading low in his belly.

He clutched at Jungkook's shoulder for balance, fingers sinking in as the Alpha devoured him whole.

The kiss was wild—almost punishing. Jungkook’s tongue licked into his mouth like he had something to prove, and Taehyung’s mind blanked out completely when he felt those rough palms slide up under his damp crop top, riding it all the way to his chest, dragging against sweat-slicked skin.

"F-Fuck," Taehyung breathed against the kiss.

Jungkook growled. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

His teeth caught on Taehyung's lower lip, biting hard enough to sting.

"So infuriating. This mouth," he growled, breath hot against Taehyung's face, "always speaking back, always goading me."

Before he could keep it in, Taehyung whimpered, his body arching into the heat as his inner wolf purred with pleasure and writhed in violence. Alpha.

With a controlled push, Jungkook's knee pushed between Taehyung's legs.

With a second gasp, Taehyung curled his hand around the back of Jungkook's neck, grabbing his hair and somehow anchoring himself. "W-What in the world are you doing?"

"I don't know," Jungkook muttered, his lips against Taehyung's jaw, his voice low and coarse. "I just can't get your mouth out of my head, though, and I detest you completely. This, then….”

He kissed him again, deeper this time—his hips grinding in, slow and dangerous.

“Is the only way to shut it,”

Taehyung's eyes rolled back, groaning as he rutted against the thigh between his legs. Dizzying from the overwhelming sensation of heat, touch and scent, panting hard.

His voice trembled, biting his lips hard. He sneered, defiant to the last, “What’s your excuse this time Jeon?”

Jungkook didn’t even flinch. He pulled back just enough to look down—right between them—and then locked eyes with him, cocking a brow.

“What’s gonna be yours, Glitters?”

Taehyung’s mind was foggy and hooded, he looked confused until Jungkook with a wicked grin leaned closer, whispering, “You are already so wet,”

The omega’s breath hitched. He looked down and— Fuck.

A darkened patch had bloomed between his thighs. He hadn’t even noticed.

Mortification clashed with arousal. Rage, embarrassment, and need all burned up in his veins. He grit his teeth, furious at how Jungkook got to see him like this—how easily the Alpha unraveled him.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

“I plan to,” Jungkook muttered darkly.

Taehyung’s wolf whined, desperate, needy. And Taehyung hated it. Hated how much he wanted this. Wanted Jungkook. Even if he hated him.

“I hate you,” he hissed, lips trembling as his arms tightened around Jungkook’s neck. “Don’t even forget that for a second.”

“Good,” Jungkook whispered back. “That makes two of us.”

And then—he lifted him.

With a yelp, Taehyung automatically wrapped his legs around Jungkook's waist. Jungkook's hands gripped beneath Taehyung's thighs as he bit at his throat, mouthing at the skin, teeth scraping as their bodies slammed back into the lockers.

Taehyung was panting now, lost in sensation. His head fell back with a moan. “God, I hate you…”

“Say it again,” Jungkook growled, biting just beneath his ear. “It fucking turns me on,”

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

Taehyung hardly remembered how they got here. 

One moment Jungkook had him hoisted up against the lockers like he weighed nothing - a rush of adrenaline burning in his veins from the strength alone. Next thing he knew he was being shoved into the cold tile wall of locker room showers. Taehyung hissed at the freezing feeling that soon soothed into warmth by Jungkook’s tongue trailing down his throat. He gasped, arching, as fingers yanked his soaked crop top off and tossed it somewhere behind.

“I hate you,” Taehyung snarled again—but it came out a breathy whine when Jungkook bit at his collarbone.

Taehyung kept repeating the three words in his mind with each touch or kiss left on his skin by Alpha. As to remind himself that this was all just lust. That all this doesn’t matter - not how good Jungkook made him feel. Because in the end he was still the Alpha Taehyung hated with all his senses.

Pipes hissed softly, steam coiling in the air, and the fluorescent lights above flickered dimly. The stalls were empty. No one else had lingered this long.

It was just them—two rivals who swore they hated each other, now tangled in heat, desperation, and need that went beyond logic.

With a twist of Jungkook's hand, the overhead nozzle hissed to life, and warm water poured down on them.

As the spray hit his face, Taehyung gasped and blinked the droplets away, causing his hair to quickly plaster itself to his forehead.

And then Jungkook was on him again. Mouth dragging down the length of his throat, tongue licking a stripe along his pulse point before teeth bit in, just hard enough to make Taehyung jerk.

"Fuck—" With his arms clinging to Jungkook's shoulders as though he might pass out if he released them, Taehyung choked, his legs still securely fastened around his waist.

After giving Taehyung a hard squeeze, Jungkook's hands slid under his ass and pushed the slick-soaked slacks down just far enough to reveal his hip curve.

"Are you still going to act like this isn't what you wanted?" Jungkook hissed, voice rough against Taehyung’s ear. “You’re dripping.”

Taehyung clawed at his wet back, lips parted, eyes burning. “Don’t flatter yourself—”

Jungkook cut him off with a kiss—if it could even be called that. It was teeth and tongue, devouring, punishing, like they were still arguing but now through heat. 

Their mouths fought, breath shared in ragged pants. Taehyung bit back, tugged Jungkook’s hair, made him groan.

Water poured around them, washing away nothing of the tension.

“You think I don’t hate this?” Jungkook rasped, grinding forward—his cock hard between them, rubbing against the clothed front of Taehyung’s heat. “Hate how fucking much I think about you?”

As his hips on instinct rolled forward in pursuit of friction, Taehyung let out a whimper and cursed. “Then don’t think. Just fuck me and shut up.”

“Gladly.”

Jungkook growled and threw them around, allowing Taehyung to slide down before slamming him into the damp wall. His hands gathered at Taehyung's ankles after tugging at the slacks' waistband until they slid off entirely. The omega shivered, exposed, breath fogging the cold tile.

“Maybe I should leave you like this,” Jungkook mused out, fingers digging deep into Taehyung’s hips, “All worked up and nothing to help you, “

Taehyung glared over his shoulder, hair soaked, eyes burning with rage and lust. Such an enamoured sight, “You won’t.”

But that dang annoying mouth. Jungkook gritted his teeth.

“You can’t,” Taehyung added, deliberately shifting his legs apart, arching just a bit, challenging. “You want me too fucking much.”

Something snapped.

Jungkook groaned at the freedom and quickly pushed his own pants down. He wasted no time in aligning himself and pressing against the heat of Taehyung's entrance as his cock throbbed—hard, aching. The slick was overwhelming, the omega’s body more than ready, pulsing with need. 

Jungkook quickly rolled on a condom and then took his position behind Taehyung again

The blunt head slowly pushed in, stretching Taehyung inch by devastating inch, causing him to gasp. His cheek was pressed into the tile as his hands braced flat against the wall.

“F-fuck—Jungkook…”

“You hate me?” Jungkook grunted, snapping his hips forward, burying himself deep.

“Y-yes—fuck, yes—”

“Your body’s though loving this.”

He pulled back and slammed in again, harder.Taehyung screamed, his knees about to buckle if it weren't for the Alpha's hand around his waist, which kept him upright.

Water poured down their bodies as Jungkook panted and accelerated the pace, his hips snapping in a vicious rhythm. Taehyung's face contorted in absolute delight as he whimpered.

“God- you feel so good,” Jungkook snarled, pulling him back by the hair and sinking his teeth into his shoulder—not enough to mark, but enough to make Taehyung sob out his name.

“F-fuck, Jungkook, please—”

“Please what?” Jungkook’s voice dropped, hot against his skin. “Say it.”

Taehyung hated him. Hated how Jungkook made him feel weak, made him want like this. But gods, he couldn’t stop. His wolf was howling inside him, tail curled, purring, needy.

“Please—don’t stop,” he moaned. “Don’t stop—need it.”

With each thrust, Taehyung cried out as Jungkook moaned into his shoulder and slammed his hips in faster and harder. Their bodies were a maze of water and steam and desire driven by hate.

“Good boy,” Jungkook growled, he lifted Taehyung again, aligning their bodies—and slammed in with one hard thrust.

Taehyung screamed, nails clawing down Jungkook’s back, and his head hit the tile as pleasure ripped through him.

“You fucking—bastard—!”

“Still hate me?” Jungkook panted, fucking into him hard, fast, brutal—just the way Taehyung needed.

“Fucking yes,” Taehyung moaned, throwing his head back. “Fuck- I’m gonna come.”

“Come for me,” he whispered. “Come on my cock, glitters. Show me how much you hate me.”

And he did, trembling violently as his orgasm struck like a wave, the walls squeezing tight around Jungkook.

With a curse, Jungkook pushed harder, seeking his own rush.

“God, you feel—so fucking—tight—fuck—Taehyung—"

He came with a loud growl, hips slamming in deep, cock pulsing inside Taehyung, his scent marking every inch of him from the inside out.

When the stream of cold water finally came on, they both fell, panting and trembling, entangled in the stream, which washed them clean but did not remove the tension, the hate, or the fire.

For a moment, they remained in that position, Taehyung's head resting on Jungkook's shoulder and his hot breath pressing against his ear.

And then he spoke. Voice rough, still breathless. “I still hate you.”

Jungkook let out a hoarse laugh against his skin. “Good. Because I’m not done hating you yet either.”

And he kissed the bite mark on Taehyung’s shoulder like a promise.

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

The locker room was more subdued now, with only the sound of metallic clanks and rustling fabric. The earlier heat was gone—replaced by an oppressive silence that weighed heavily on the atmosphere.

Taehyung pulled down his bag from the highest shelf, jaw clenched as he rummaged out his scent blockers. Wordlessly, he rolled it over his wrist, smoothening it onto his neck with careful strokes. Then, on the periphery of his vision, he caught Jungkook wordlessly reaching for him with his hand.

He was standing two lockers down, still rubbing his hair with the towel, shamefully naked, looking at him from the corner of his eye.

Taehyung sighed and, without a word, tossed the scent blocker toward him.

Jungkook caught it easily with one hand.

“Bring your own,” Taehyung muttered under his breath, not looking at him. “You gonna keep freeloading off mine every time we fuck?”

A slow, wolfish grin spread across Jungkook’s face.

“So,” he said, stepping closer as he sprayed his neck, “you’re already thinking of us doing this more?”

Taehyung’s head snapped up.

His face flushed. Not blush—irritation. Obviously.

He slammed his locker shut so hard it echoed.

“Shut up and put the damn scent blocker on, Jeon. And you better get that final draft done too. Professor needs our submission sheet by thursday, and I’m not pulling an all-nighter because you’re allergic to planning.”

Jungkook groaned like a dying man. “Ughhh. Even the thought of it gives me hives. When are we meeting to finish it?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes as he slung his gym bag over his shoulder. “We could do it at my place but I’d rather not clean up the mess you’ll make after whining for attention. Just meet me at the café by town. Evening. We just need to finalize a few things.”

With his eyes narrowed in challenge, Jungkook leant against the lockers. "Are you afraid that if we're in a room together again, you won't be able to keep your hands off me?"

Slowly and smoothly, Taehyung turned and stepped up until they were chest to chest.

His fingers curled into the strings of Jungkook’s hoodie and gave them a light tug, pulling the Alpha closer.

Voice low, silken, smug, he whispered near Jungkook’s ear, “Darling, it’s always you who begs first. Let’s not confuse who the loser is here.”

Taehyung then gave him one last tug and turned to leave, purposefully swaying her hips to irritate him.

Behind him, Jungkook moaned and ran a hand over his face.

“Oh that fucking omega…” he muttered. “Just wait… I’m gonna make you beg next time.”

Later, in the dorm…the faint sound of a drama playing from Jimin’s tablet. He was lounging on the bed, legs curled under him when Taehyung entered.

Jimin looked up with a frown. “Weird, I didn’t even smell you coming.”

Taehyung’s smile was a little too quick. “Guess the blockers really work.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes. “Seokjin-hyung was right. You’re always masked up. Why though? Got something to hide?”

Taehyung let out a soft laugh, dropping his bag and toeing off his shoes. “It’s nothing. What are you watching?”

Jimin patted the space beside him. “Come. Watch this episode with me, it’s juicy.”

Taehyung took a seat, leaning his head against Jimin's shoulder and allowing the show's subdued hum to divert his attention. His omega curled into the comfort—but his mind?

Still replaying the way Jungkook had him pinned against cold tile, gasping, growling, filling him—

“You got the lift done?” Jimin asked casually.

Taehyung blinked. “What?”

Jimin smirked. “You were working on cheer lifts with Jungkook right? You figure it out?”

“Oh—uh, yeah. Not perfect but... we’re getting there,” he muttered.

Jimin nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe this whole tension thing with Jungkook will finally get resolved. He’s been like your mortal enemy since year one.”

Taehyung’s face twitched, heart lurching.

He shifted slightly. “Yeah,” he mumbled, “Let’s see…”

Taehyung didn’t know what to expect from the line Jungkook and he had crossed. What neither of them expected was a routine.

They met the next evening at a small café off campus. Taehyung came in first—iced strawberry latte in hand, pink lips pursed as he skimmed their notes.

Jungkook dropped into the seat across with an iced Americano, all black hoodie and broody eyes.

“You’re so predictable,” Taehyung said, frowning at his cup.

Jungkook smirked. “And of course Glitters drinks something strawberry pink and sugary.”

“And of course your drinks are black as your soul.”

Their bickering didn’t stop. Fonts, wording, and whether the title should be left-aligned or centred were all points of fightings. Taehyung rolled his eyes at Jungkook's clumsy layout, and when Taehyung used a red pen to reword his entire paragraph, Jungkook almost broke a pen.

Once the assignment was done, Jungkook offered a ride back to the dorms. Initially it was just an innocent offer, yet somehow… Jungkook’s car rocked in the shadows of an empty parking lot—Taehyung’s thighs on either side of his lap, the windows fogged, lips bitten red and chests heaving.

Jungkook’s ced americano had long been forgotten. His hands were fisted in Taehyung’s hair, lips swollen, shirt half-unbuttoned, his voice broken.

“—fuck—more.”

Jungkook had promised he’d made Taehyung beg. And Jungkook delivered.

And Then… Once it became a routine. It didn’t stop.

In the corridors, they still passed sarcastic comments. During cheerleading practices, they still argued.

“How the fuck are your formations always off?” Taehyung snapped after one practice.

“Maybe because your hand signals are useless and you scream like a crying cat,” Jungkook snapped back.

They'd bicker, annoy the hell out of each other. But somehow— They still found themselves pinned in dark corners.

Sometimes in the janitor’s closet, clothes half-pulled down, lips locked in breathless kisses.

Lights off. Jungkook whispered, “You just had to wear those damn shorts today, didn’t you?” 

Then silence, save for gasps and zippers and breathless curses.

Sometimes in an empty hallway, where Jungkook lifted Taehyung against the wall and kissed the frustration out of him.

Other times, in an unused classroom, hands tight on Taehyung’s waist, mouths swallowing moans before anyone heard.

Taehyung gasping, “We’ll be caught.”

Jungkook answered with a low growl, “Then stop moaning.”

They hated each other.

They wanted each other.

They burned.

And in that fire, they built a routine.

It wasn’t love. No never. But it was something.

Something they couldn’t stop.

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

They never stayed longer than needed.

That was the unspoken rule. Because if they did— If they lingered, if they let themselves relax too long in each other’s presence— They might start realizing.

Realizing how this wasn’t normal.

Like how they’d stopped looking for satisfaction elsewhere—how at parties, no matter how loud or chaotic, they always found each other.

In dark corners, in half-lit rooms, pressed up against each other like they didn’t spend every day pretending to hate.

Excuses flowed too easily from their lips.

“I was hooking up with some senior alpha, don’t wait up,” Taehyung would tell Jimin.

“I crashed at her dorm,” Jungkook would mutter to his teammates. “No, a different one this time.”

They lied. To themselves. To their friends. 

That when it was over—when they stumbled out of dark corners, breathless and unsteady—they’d immediately scrub each other’s scent off with blocker and wipes, like criminals hiding evidence.

And when the assignment was long done?

They still met.

Under the guise of "lifting drills," "cheer practice debriefs," "helping fix the sync."

They stayed back till the gym cleared out. Because late evening always meant lockers, silence, and unzipped control.

The lifts got better. Chemistry sharper. Jungkook started nailing the routine—maybe because Taehyung, with his foot tapping in frustration and eyes daring him had said—threatened, really—that he wouldn’t let Jungkook touch him again if he didn’t at least learn to hit a clean toe-point and land a split catch without trembling.

And well as much as Jungkook hated Taehyung’s annoying wink, he loved touching him.

Still, they never exchanged soft glances. Never lingered. Never gave it a name.

Game Day.

The squeak of sneakers and the crackle of speakers filled the gym. The air was charged with energy as cheerleaders performed their last stretches, the aroma of hairspray mingling with nerves and adrenaline.

Taehyung and his team were standing by the mirror wall. His uniform fit his body perfectly; it was tight, shimmering gold and blue, with glitter glistening along his cheekbones and wrists. His eyeliner was razor sharp, and his shoes, of course, had rhinestones on the laces.

But his hand was shaking.

“Okay—no, that pyramid shift needs to be tighter,” he barked, pacing in front of his squad. “We cannot risk a wobble in the final lift. Jimin, tell Areum to switch places with Soojin. She's steadier on base—"

“Taehyung—breathe,” Jimin murmured, standing behind him with a palm gently touching his shoulder. “This way you won’t even last till the first toss, you look you are about to combust,”

Taehyung let out a loud exhale, “This is important, Jimin. I need this to be perfect.”

Right thenTaehyung’s phone kept on the stands started ringing. He glanced at the screen that lit up with an unknown number.

Jimin peeked over his shoulder. “Who’s that?”

Taehyung didn’t answer. It wasn’t just an unknown number. It was the number he refused to save - but yet had it remembered by heart like an idiot. His stomach flipped.

He cleared his throat. “No one. Just… I’ll be back.”

He stepped away from the team, rounding the corner into a quiet hall before answering. “What?” he said, voice sharp. “You’re supposed to be in the locker room.”

Jungkook’s voice came cool and low. “I’m in the equipment room. Come here.”

The call disconnected and Taehyung stared at the blank screen in disbelief, “What the f—”

But he didn’t really have any choice, did he?

With a final sigh, he turned to head towards the old equipment room down the corridor.

When the door creaked open and Taehyung stepped inside, the scent of fresh laundry, perspiration, and polished leather welcomed him. As he stood near the equipment-filled shelves, Jungkook was already dressed in his football uniform, a black and red jersey clinging to him and the number seven prominently displayed across his back. As though they had endless time, he leant lazily against the rack.

Taehyung crossed his arms and closed the door. “Wow. You’re that horny? Can’t even wait till post-game?”

Jungkook chuckled with a shake of his head, “Chill, Glitters. I just wanted to see if you were losing your shit or not. You’ve been drilling formations into my bones for weeks. Thought you might combust before halftime. It’s just a routine,”

Taehyung bristled. “It’s not just a routine,”

Jungkook leaned back on the shelf with arms crossed, “Glitte—”

“No, you always do this,” Taehyung snapped as he stepped forward, “You treat the cheer team like it’s background noise. Like we’re just some flashy decoration. But it’s us who keep your damn crowd alive. It’s us who boost your team’s energy when you’re trailing behind!”

“Taehyung, I didn’t mean that -”

“But that’s how you word it,” Taehyung yelled, face red, “Always with that smirk. Like it’s a joke. Like I’m a joke. You think I put in all this effort—for what? To be cute on the sidelines?”

“I was trying to calm you down,” Jungkook said, stepping forward finally, brows furrowed.

“Well it didn’t work,” Taehyung snapped, voice wobbling. His eyes were now filled with tears, angry and sharp, and they glittered as much as the glimmer on his skin.

As he continued, Taehyung's voice cracked just a little. “You don’t get it. You never will. This is important to me.”

Jungkook stood still, watching his back. “I know.”

Taehyung spun around, eyes glossy. “No, you don’t! My parents already make me feel like cheer’s some phase. Like it's nothing. And now I have an ego-driven alpha telling me the same? Great. Just great.”

Jungkook stood frozen, stunned into silence for a second. Then he stepped forward, reaching out with his hand to pull Taehyung closer by the back of his neck, thumb rubbing soothing circles where the nape met the hairline.

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “What are you—?”

“Breathe,” Jungkook said softly. “Are you still panicking?”

Taehyung blinked. “Wha—?”

“I said breathe,” Jungkook repeated, voice low, thumb pressing gently into the tense muscles at Taehyung’s nape. “You’ve got this. You don’t need anyone to tell you it matters. You already made it matter.”

Taehyung’s breath came shakily. Jungkook leaned in, still keeping it gentle.

“I tease you, yeah. But only someone blind would miss how hard you work. How you lead that whole team like a captain in heels,” Jungkook smirked, voice softening. “Your routines? They’re not just routines. They make the crowd roar. They keep us fired up on field. You're the reason half the team doesn't crash mid-game.”

Taehyung’s shoulders lowered a little.

Jungkook went on, pointing to his uniform with the glitter. "You do more than just lift people's spirits. You exude the entire goddamn vibe.

For a moment, Taehyung remained motionless, his lashes dripping wet and his lips parted.

"You always act like you don't take anything seriously." He muttered, "But then you say things like this."

Jungkook gave a small smile, dropping his hand. “Because annoying you is more fun than giving speeches.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Taehyung sniffed and fixed the collar of his top. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

They stood there, the air still charged but softer now. Totally Unfamiliar.

Jungkook gave him one last look, then said, “Go kill it out there, Glitters.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes but his lips twitched. “You better not mess up your formations either, Number Seven.”

Jungkook grinned as he turned toward the door. “Only if you promise to cheer the loudest when I score.”

Taehyung tossed him a glare over his shoulder as he left. “Cocky bastard.”

Back on field.

Banners waved. Drums pounded. The atmosphere was electric with pre-game excitement, and the bleachers were packed with students, faculty, alumni, and even news cameras recording the season's biggest game. But underneath it all was Taehyung, who stood in the centre of the glittering court that glistened under the stadium lights with his cheer squad, glitter on his cheeks, and every breath purposeful.

He exhaled slowly, blocking everything out.

The whistles. The chants. The deafening echo of Jungkook’s name being called over the mic as the football team entered.

“Number seven, team captain—Jeon Jungkook!”

The crowd erupted.

But Taehyung didn’t look toward the players' tunnel—not until he felt it.

The hum in the air changed.

Taehyung felt the alpha's eyes settle on him from a distance as soon as Jungkook entered the court, like a force of gravity that suddenly came into alignment. Their eyes met after a quick glance over his shoulder, the sharp pine piercing the heady vanilla.

Neither smiled.

Neither looked away.

The commentator was still shouting names, lights moving across the court, but it all dulled around the two of them.

They were locked in a silent duel, one with no words—just months of pent-up tension, stolen moments, clawing desire, and bruised egos pulsing between them.

When the pre-game performance began, the court shifted into spotlight.

Taehyung stepped forward first—commanding, glowing under the lights. His uniform sparkled, his body moved sharp and fluid with every step of the opening formation. Jimin flipped at the right cue. Seokjin and the others held their poses flawlessly..

And Taehyung ignited.

He moved with unfathomable accuracy, each wrist flick and toe point fluid and deliberate. A ripple came from the bleachers.

Gasps. Cheers. Phones lifted to record. Before thirty seconds passed, students were screaming his name.

"TAEHYUNG! TAEHYUNG!"

Taehyung walked the court like his runway, owning every square inch of ground. Every time he turned under the lights, the glitter eyeliner sparkled with a piercing shine.

At stunt time, the crowd gasped as the squad worked together perfectly to flip, catch, and roll. Especially for the highlight.

Taehyung whirled, breathing shallowly, frame tense with concentration. Jungkook moved into position behind him.

The beat pulsed low as Taehyung ran and jumped.

He was snatched in midair by Jungkook's strong, well-coordinated arms. Taehyung's shape was lit up above the alpha's head like a shining, heavenly spectacle because of the optimal lighting. Cheers broke out, louder than ever before.

They held the position.

Five seconds.

Ten.

Fifteen.

The crowd absolutely lost it.

Jungkook lowered Taehyung back down slowly, slowly, fingers tracing down his legs as he let go. They stood nose-to-nose, panting hard. No words.

Only another glance.

Their teammates flowed past them as the formation changed, but Taehyung and Jungkook didn't look away for a moment too long.

Jungkook shot the smallest smile. "Told you. You got it."

Taehyung, still panting, lips parted from exertion, flicked his gaze up. “You just held me up. I’m the one who made it sparkle.”

Jungkook’s grin widened, just a flicker. “Show-off.”

“Obsessed.”

And then they moved—each back to their teams. There was a roar of applause in the gym. Unquestionably, the cheer squad had taken centre stage before the game had even begun.

Taehyung stood in the middle of the squad, gasping, his mouth open, his chest heaving and falling as he bowed once, a faint smile teasing his lips. Not a smug one. A proud one. One that came from knowing all the practice, panic, and pressure had paid off.

The opposite’s team cheer squad took the court minutes later and one could feel the shift in energy.

They were good. Well-rehearsed. Even tried a few flashy stunts.

But the crowd didn’t feel them.

Not the same way.

Applause came, polite and measured. A few hollers. Some half-hearted whistles.

But compared to the explosion Taehyung’s routine had caused?

It felt flat.

Like background noise.

Later while sitting on the bleachers with Jimin and Seokjin, Taehyung leant on the railing, drinking water to stay cool. He still felt his heart fluttering from adrenaline, he couldn’t hold back the bright, unguarded smile that beamed on his face when he looked at the stadium and still heard the crowd cheering his name, or the compliments flowing among chatters.

“I think we did it,” he whispered to Jimin.

Jimin grinned, eyes twinkling. “You didn’t just do it, baby. You ate them alive.”

And a little ways away, Jungkook stood in line with his teammates.

Namjoon clapped him on the back. “That was sick, huh?”

Jungkook didn’t reply. He didn’t even realize he was smiling too. Just a little. Soft. And involuntary.

Taehyung didn’t look back again. But Jungkook did. Once.

Not the crowd in the stadium- not the fans cheering his name. But without exerting any effort, the omega had just won over everyone's hearts in the stadium.

Unconsciously, Jungkook's chest constricted.

He wanted to fight it. But he couldn’t help the heat blooming in his chest. A rush of... something. Admiration, want, envy—he couldn’t separate them anymore.

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

The last whistle blew.

The audience burst out.

And none of it made it to Jungkook's ears.

All he felt was the burn in his lungs, the sweat running into his eyes, and Hoseok's triumphant yell as he wrapped his arms around Jungkook's shoulders and leapt at him.

"Bro! We did it! You fucking aced that pass!" Hoseok exclaimed, winded with adrenaline.

As the teammates approached, crying victory and pounding back, Jungkook gave way to a smile. That last coordinated action—Hoseok's perfect fake and Jungkook's goal—secured the win after a savage game in which the visiting team struggled fiercely till the end.

The crowd still bellowed.

And yet—

Jungkook's gaze lit upon the cheer squad opposite the field.

As his team finished with their trademark pose, Taehyung was up on his hands, smiling, his chest heaving rapidly under the crop top uniform, and glitter spiking with each precise movement. Jungkook could spot that Taehyung glowed even from afar.

He looked good in victory.

Too good.

“Frat party tonight?” Namjoon called, tossing his water bottle at Jungkook as they left the field.

Jungkook caught it but shook his head. “Can’t. Got plans.”

“Plans?” Hoseok blinked. “With who?”

Jungkook just pulled out his phone, already typing.

You free? Come to mine

Spare key’s where you found it last time

He didn’t need context. Didn’t need emojis. Just pressed send.

He wiped off the makeup from his cheeks and laughed breathlessly, Taehyung could still feel the glory of win coursing through his body. “Did you see the other team’s flyer faceplant her final toss? And we stuck our triple pyramid clean. Like clean, Jimin.”

“I know,” Jimin said, helping him undo the ties on his cheer shoes. “We murdered them.”

Taehyung’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and bit back a smile—

Jimin leaned over. “Who got you smiling like that?”

Taehyung locked the phone quickly. “Hyungsik. I’m meeting him and Seojoon tonight. Movie plans.”

Jimin raised a brow. “Since when do you hang out with them after games?”

“Since tonight,” Taehyung said brightly, standing and smoothing his silky mesh top. “So if anyone asks—”

“I’ll say you were with your secret lovers, got it.”

With a smile on his face, Taehyung slipped out. 

And that’s how they find themselves at Jungkook’s apartment half an hour later. The room was filled with Taehyung’s sweet and dizzying scent of arousal, like spiced honey exposed to the sun for too long.

The scents of alpha musk and omega slick clung to each other like smoke in the humid, heavy air. The moment Taehyung walked through the door Jungkook had him pull in for a kiss. Taehyung shoves Jungkook against a wall in the hallway, teeth bared, tugging Jungkook’s collar down to bare the pulse in his neck.

It somehow came to Jungkook having Taehyung on all fours on his bed, hoodie bunched around his waist, sweat-damp hair stuck to his flushed cheeks, thighs trembling, lips bitten red.

“So? Still hate me?” Jungkook asked as his lips brushed Taehyung’s ear.

Taehyung’s back arched, legs trembling. “With every breath.”

“You’re shaking,” Jungkook noted, pressing two fingers inside and curling them just right.

“From rage,” Taehyung said through gritted teeth, already flushed.

“You’re leaking rage all over my sheets, baby.”

Taehyung groaned, face buried in Jungkook’s pillow, the scent making him hazy.

His walls fluttered around Jungkook’s fingers, greedy and wet. The prep wasn’t long — they knew each other’s bodies now, intimately. Jungkook’s fingers curled just right, brushing Taehyung’s sweet spot until the omega was panting, shivering, dripping onto the sheets.

When Jungkook finally pressed the head of his cock against him, they both moaned — low, drawn out, primal.

“Fuck—so hot, baby,” Jungkook groaned, sliding in inch by inch, hand gripping Taehyung’s hip tight enough to bruise. “You always take me so good.”

Taehyung buried his face in the pillow. “Just fuck me. I’m not fragile.”

Jungkook did.

Hard, deep strokes that sent Taehyung rocking forward, toes curling. Skin slapping skin. Sweat trailing down their bodies. Taehyung’s whines melted into broken moans, incoherent pleas — for more, for harder, for Jungkook.

“Such a good omega,” Jungkook rasped. “You talk all that shit in public, and then still let fuck you like you deserve,”

“You think I like this?” Taehyung hissed through clenched teeth, back arching when Jungkook angled his thrusts. “I hate you.”

“Yet you’re in my bed again,” Jungkook replied, pulling him closer.

The heat began to pool at the base of Jungkook’s cock. He grunted, losing rhythm for a moment as instinct fought restraint.

Taehyung felt it. And didn’t move away.

“Do it,” he panted. “Come inside me. Fucking do it.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, alpha.”

Jungkook growled — possessive, needy — and pushed in harder, hips stuttering. They both cried out — one long, raw sound of release as heat broke through them. 

Jungkook spilled deep inside, thick ropes of cum filling Taehyung until he was shaking, overstimulated, his orgasm ripped from him moments later as Jungkook stroked him through it. 

It was an unsaid agreement now, after it happened more than once. The two were always in a rush when together, always forgetting to be safe. Until one time Jungkook just confessed how he was clean, and Taehyung not minding using any condoms - saying how he loved it raw, that’s why he was always on pills.

They stayed locked like that — panting, twitching, lips brushing but not kissing.

Jungkook nuzzled behind his ear. “Still a secret, right?”

Taehyung hummed, dazed. “I’ll deny this till I die.”

Jungkook chuckled. “Me too.”

They hadn’t done this before. Not post-game. Not when both were tired, exhausted from adrenaline and physical strain of postgame.

Taehyung didn’t even register when he dozed off, last thing he remembered was Jungkook’s arms around him tightening around his waist - as if he didn’t want to let go - just before sleep pulled them under. 

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

The first thing Jungkook felt was heat.

Sticky. Damp. Familiar.

His body ached in that nice-worn out way, as if all strength had been dried out of him, but left a fuzzy feeling left behind. He moved slightly and let out a low groan with eyes closed.

Only to feel weight on top of him.

Over his own was a bare, warm body.

Lazy gold washed over the sheets and his skin as his lashes fluttered open and sunlight streamed in through half-closed blinds.

And then he saw.

Taehyung.

One arm wrapped possessively around his waist, head on his chest, cheek smashed against the heat of Jungkook's ribs. The sheet had slid down to Taehyung's waist, exposing his entire upper body: sun-kissed tan skin, wild hair curled at the tips, and smudged eyeliner beneath fluttering lashes. With every exhale, a tiny, delicate puff of breath escaped from his slightly open lips.

Jungkook lost the ability to breathe.

He was beautiful. Soft. Unarmored.

Jungkook just stared for a moment, taking him in. With hesitation, as if he were scared to break the spell, he lifted one hand and ran his knuckles down the curve of Taehyung's jaw to the mole beneath his right eye. His fingers stayed at Taehyung's cheek.

How could you possibly look this bad in the morning? Jungkook wondered.

Taehyung whimpered in his sleep, snuggling closer—breath hitting Jungkook’s collarbone, warm and dangerously sweet.

That’s when Jungkook remembered—they were both naked.

And not just naked—sticky. Scent-marked. The room still reeked of a blend of slick and musk and -

Fuck.

Jungkook shut his eyes with a silent groan. Should I…?

Was this a line?

Waking up next to Taehyung was already new territory. But to continue what they started?

It felt intimate. Too real.

But when Taehyung's hips shifted ever so slightly against him and his fingers tightened around his waist, Jungkook's reasoning broke like a twig.

Leaning over Taehyung's sleeping body, Jungkook rolled onto his side and pulled the covers down to his hips while taking a deep breath. From the base of his throat, down the smooth curve of his collarbones, and farther—chest, ribs, and hard stomach—he tipped his head and planted gentle, adoring kisses, each accompanied by a gentle sigh or a jerk of muscle.

The omega whimpered while sleeping, legs twitching uneasily, just as Jungkook was about to touch the line of Taehyung's navel.

Jungkook smirked against his skin, voice barely a whisper.

“Still asleep, pretty boy?”

He disappeared beneath the sheets, settling between Taehyung’s thighs, his breath warm against slick skin as he pressed his nose just above the apex and inhaled deeply, groaning. “Already wet again…”

Taehyung stirred and woke up, his eyes fluttering as a moan escaped him, “J-Jungkook…? What are you—”

“If you want me to stop…” Jungkook’s voice was rough, teasing. “Say it.”

Taehyung’s response was a growl, fingers fisting in Jungkook’s hair and yanking him in.

“Fuck—please,” he gasped, voice cracking as Jungkook mouthed against him through the folds, slow and intentional.

Jungkook chuckled, cruel and cocky. “Slicking through already, huh?”

“You’re such—ahhh!” Taehyung choked on the rest of the insult as Jungkook’s tongue slid in with devastating precision.

He was a mess within seconds, whimpering into the pillow, thighs trembling as Jungkook devoured him. He licked, sucked, toyed—like a man starving. Like he was addicted to the taste of hate.

“You smell like heat,” Jungkook muttered between strokes, voice husky. “And hate never tasted this sweet.”

“Sh-shut up,” Taehyung moaned. “You’re still a bastard—I hate—ah, f-fuck—don’t stop—!”

He didn't.

He sucked until Taehyung was writhing, the sheets wet under them, legs trembling violently. Only to kiss up his thigh, rise over his body, and catch his mouth in a burning kiss—slick still on his lips, sharing the taste—did Jungkook pause.

It was too much.

Too close.

Too dangerous.

Later, the scent of baked vanilla filled the air as Taehyung took a shower in the bathroom, steam escaping through the door.

Furrowed brows, Jungkook, still without a shirt, flipped a pancake in the pan. It was Friday. Taehyung had class by noon. Jungkook didn't start until the evening.

So why was he making fucking pancakes?

He’d never done this for anyone before.

He wasn't an alpha like that.

Jungkook’s chain of thought broke as he heard the bathroom door opening, he looked up to only freeze when Taehyung stepped out.

Wearing only his oversized black hoodie, barefoot with his damp hair slightly curled. The sleeves were excessively long. The hem hung low on his thighs.

Jungkook nearly flipped the spatula into the ceiling.

Taehyung yawned dramatically and dropped into the chair. “Are you always this generous with all your sleeping partners?” he teased.

Jungkook didn’t answer.

Because the truth was:

 He wasn’t.

No one ever stayed the night.

 No one wore his clothes.

 No one got breakfast.

But if he said that aloud, he’d have to admit that Taehyung was different.

 And he wasn’t ready for that yet.

So instead, he muttered, sliding a plate toward him, “You should probably head to your dorm before class. Can’t exactly show up in my hoodie.”

Taehyung whined, tugging onto the fabric dramatically, “Ugh, but it’s so soft. Can I keep it?”

Jungkook blinked. “No—?”

“Come on, you have like a thousand of these,” Taehyung whined. “I’ve seen your closet, Jeon. One missing hoodie won’t kill you. This one just feels…right.”

Jungkook looked at him. The omega was curled up in his hoodie, sipping coffee from his mug, his cheeks flushed from the shower, his hair damp, and his eyes playful and sleepy.

Another line.

Crossed.

“…Fine,” Jungkook said eventually, voice low. “Just take it. Consider it an apology.”

Taehyung’s expression shifted slightly, his teasing fading.

“For what?” he asked.

“For… making you feel like I ever undermined your talent.”

There was a pause.

Taehyung’s voice softened. “Yeah. Well. Apology accepted.”

They fell into silence.

But it wasn’t tense.

No snide remarks. No arguing. Just the clink of forks, the soft hum of morning.

It was… calm.

Too calm.

And when Taehyung finally left, hoodie still on, bag slung lazily over one shoulder, Jungkook was still standing in the doorway long after the omega had disappeared down the stairwell.

There was still a hint of baked vanilla.

And so did the feel of Taehyung’s arms around him.

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

With his hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands and his collar pulled up around his neck as if to conceal the overt odour he was carrying, Taehyung tiptoed into the dorm hallway.

It was quiet. Most students were already in class. He expected the coast to be clear.

Except it wasn’t.

As soon as he opened the door to his shared dorm room, he was greeted by the deadpan sound of Jimin’s voice:

“Welcome back, Kim.”

Taehyung froze. His fingers still on the doorknob. He turned slowly to see Jimin perched on his bed, arms crossed, lips pressed in a flat line and one brow raised.

“Jimin,” Taehyung said weakly, followed by a nervous chuckle. “Didn’t think you’d be here…”

“No shit,” Jimin said. “Because most normal people would be in classes right now. And not like you—" he pointed directly at Taehyung, “—who stayed the whole night out with someone and is only coming back to the dorm now.”

Taehyung sighed, kicking off his shoes. “I was—uh—”

“Don’t,” Jimin cut in, nose twitching. “You really thought I wouldn’t smell him all over you?”

Taehyung flushed.

He had considered that. Briefly. But he hadn’t exactly thought things through when he’d asked to keep the hoodie. It had just felt… comforting.

In his own bed, he rarely slept peacefully anymore. His wolf was always restless in the nest, pawing at the sheets, nose buried in pillows like something was missing.

But last night? Wrapped in Jungkook’s scent? His arms?

He slept like he hadn’t in months. And he knew exactly why.

“Oh my god I can;t believe you’re fucking Jungkook,” Jimin whisper shouted, as if the whole dorm could be eavesdropping. “You were lying to my face - all this time?”

“Keep it down,” Taehyung hissed, shutting the door quickly. “You wanna announce it to the whole damn building?”

Jimin stood up dramatically, pointing a finger like he was mid-courtroom drama. “You are sleeping with Jeon Jungkook! I knew something was off—you didn’t come back last night! I stayed up to tell you something important and the dorm was empty! You never even stayed out with Seojoon or Hyungsik, but now suddenly you’re—what? Secretly dating Jungkook?!”

Taehyung scoffed. “What? No! God—no. We’re just… sleeping around. That’s it.”

“Oh no? Then what is this?!” Jimin scolded while tugging at the hoodie sleeves, “You are wearing his hoodie, glowing like you just got out of your heat and then say it’s just casual?”

"I was without a change of clothes!" Pulling at the hem, Taehyung snapped. "It wasn't organised."

However, his heart beat treacherously as he spoke.

Nothing with Jungkook was planned. That was the terrifying part.

Jimin eyed him, clearly not buying it. “And how long are you planning to keep this ‘casual hookup’ thing a secret?”

Taehyung said offhandedly, his words not believable to his own ears, “Until we get tired of it?”

But from his own mouth words felt dull. Empty. Because the truth was—he wasn’t getting tired. He was getting worse. Addicted.

Jimin sighed and sat back down, softer this time. “Okay... we’ll talk about that later. There’s something else.”

Taehyung lifted his eyes warily. “What?”

Jimin’s voice dropped. “Your dad. He’s back in the country.”

Everything inside Taehyung went still.

The warmth from the hoodie. The scent clinging to his skin. The little bubble of peace from the night before—it popped instantly.

“What?”

“Yeah.” Jimin nodded solemnly. “I overheard Seokjin hyung talking to Namjoon. He landed yesterday.”

Taehyung sat down hard on his bed. “No—no, he was supposed to be back after graduation. I had time. He—he said I had time…”

“I don’t know,” Jimin said softly, crouching in front of him. “Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe it’s nothing. He hasn’t contacted you yet, right?”

Taehyung shook his head, eyes glazed. “Not yet.”

“Then maybe he’s just visiting. Don’t spiral yet, okay?” Jimin touched his knee. “And even if he is here for that, we’ll find a way. He can’t force you into anything.”

However, Taehyung's inner wolf was already restless and pacing. His stomach rumbled with anxiety.

The remainder of the day seemed to fly by.

Taehyung sat quietly in class, chewing his pen and gazing past the board. He missed questions. Didn't respond to Jimin’s nudges. He went through cheer practice on autopilot, his timing off, his smile fake.

His coach noticed. Seokjin noticed.

And Jungkook—Jungkook definitely noticed.

He watched from the field as Taehyung stood on the gym floor, attempting half-hearted flips and weak cheers. No sparkle. No snarky glances. Just... quiet. Absent.

And it bothered him.

Because Taehyung had left his apartment that morning laughing—flushed and smug, calling Jungkook a loser while slipping his hoodie on like he owned the damn thing.

But now?

Now he looked lost.

Jungkook fumbled a pass during the drill. Namjoon shot him a weird glance.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook muttered, though his eyes were still trained on the omega across the gym.

Something was wrong.

And even if Taehyung hadn’t said it, Jungkook’s wolf already knew.

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Taehyung was sitting cross-legged on his bed in the dorm, thumbing restlessly through his phone screen. The messages weren't even being read by him. Just... distracting himself. Anything to stop his thoughts from spiraling.

He hovered over Seojoon’s name, debating.

Taehyung considered calling him. Seojoon knew. Knew about the deal, about the pressure, the complicated history with his father. Maybe he’d have advice. Or comfort. Venting to him - even for just a second, might help him in getting his anxious knot out of his chest.

He was about to press "call" when his phone rang first.

An unknown number.

Only it wasn’t unknown. Not really.

Taehyung exhaled deeply and replied listlessly, "Hello."

"Are you at your dorm?" was Jungkook's tentative voice.

Taehyung rolled back, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah."

There was a pause of silence. Then:

 "Can you… come out?"

Taehyung took a deep breath. He was too tired for this. "Jungkook," he growled. "I'm really not in the mood for anything today. I'm gonna hang up."

"What?" Jungkook was offended. "I—hey, I'm not some sex-crazed monster, okay?"

Taehyung snorted softly but didn't say anything.

"I wasn't calling for that," Jungkook said softer this time. "I mean. Seriously."

Taehyung leaned deeper into his pillows. "Then what else would you have a reason to call me for, huh?"

There was another pause, uneasy. Jungkook pressed his lip with his teeth, then spoke softly, "What do you think about a long drive?"

Taehyung opened his eyes and blinked. "What?"

Right away Jungkook groaned, as if he regretted it. "Ugh. Never mind. That was stupid. I don't know why I thought—forget it. I'm just gonna—"

"Wait," Taehyung interrupted, sitting up straight. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you… outside right now?"

"…Yeah."

Taehyung got up right away, voice gentler now. "Give me ten minutes. I'll come."

There was a shocked beat of silence before Jungkook whispered finally, "…Okay."

Ten minutes passed, and Jungkook stood leaning against the hood of his vehicle, arms crossed, looking at the dark windows of the dorm building. He still wasn't certain what the hell he was doing.

He just—couldn't shake it out of his head.

The way Taehyung looked today.

So… distant. Blank behind the eyes. Not his usual sharp, snarky self.

It bothered him. Way more than he wanted to admit.

What are you even doing, Jeon? — he thought again, kicking a small pebble near his feet. He’s gonna roll his eyes the whole way, you idiot. He's going to be annoying and smug and —

But then he saw him. Jungkook’s mind came to a halt .

Taehyung stepped out wearing a hoodie. But not just any hoodie.

His hoodie. Jungkook’s brain short-circuited.

Taehyung’s wearing my hoodie again.

Taehyung had his hands tucked inside the pockets, tracks pants hanging loose on his lithe frame. He covered the head by pulling up the hood till the face - barely visible except for the puffed cheeks from the cold. He walked over to the car and Jungkook stood straight to open the passenger door for him.

Taehyung sat inside and closed the door with a soft click. Jungkook quickly settled inside too, the cabin filled with warm and muted silence.

Jungkook started the engine, then glanced sideways.

“…Are you wearing my hoodie?”

Taehyung casually looked down and then shrugged, “It was the only warm thing I had in the cupboard. And like I said... it’s soft.”

He paused, chewing his cheek, then muttered just loud enough to hear, “Feels good, keeps me calm,”

Jungkook blinked.

“Right,” he said, ears warm, pretending not to react. “Good.”

They remained silent for a short while. The space inbetween filled with the low buzz of the engine. Golden hues of the city flashing by as the car rode through the quiet town.

It was calm. Not awkward. Not tense.

Just… still.

Jungkook looked sideways again, this time at the omega curled into the passenger seat with his eyes slightly away from the window and his hoodie sleeves pulled over his knuckles.

He had no idea what they were doing.

Didn’t know what this was.

But he knew one thing for sure:

He didn’t like seeing Taehyung hurting. And if it meant he had to drive all the way till sunrise to see that smile back on his face then hell- he’d drive. 

Jungkook’s fingers drummed slowly on the steering wheel, the car moved past the closed storefront and moonlight shone in the sky. Windows slightly rolled down to let the wind pass.

They hadn’t said much in the last ten minutes. The silence was accompanied with the radio playing slow music and an occasional turn signal.

Taehyung next to him, curled further into the seat, fiddling with his hoodie string, tugging and wrapping it around his fingers.

Then, softer than normal, he asked, "Um. where are we going?"

Jungkook cleared his throat, gaze still fixed on the road. "Uh. I don't know. I didn't… have anywhere in mind."

Taehyung scowled slightly, head swiveling to regard him. "Then why'd you even invite me?"

No bite to the question — only quiet wondering.

Jungkook shrugged, lips curling into a gentle smile. "Don't know. Just kind of felt you might have needed it."

He glanced sideways, voice gentler now. “You’ve been off all day. Thought maybe a drive would help.”

Taehyung went quiet at that. His fingers were still on the hoodie strings. After a pause, he held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

Jungkook blinked. “What? Why?”

“Just give it.”

Jungkook took it from the centre console and handed it to him, still bewildered. Taehyung briefly tapped on the map app and typed something while swiping through it.

He returned it after a few seconds.

He said plainly, "Let's go here."

Jungkook glanced at the screen.

It was a location a little outside of town. Nothing dramatic. Just... an ice cream shop.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow but hummed. “Ice cream, huh?”

“It’s either that or I cry in your passenger seat,” Taehyung deadpanned.

Jungkook chuckled. “You’ll drip glitter tears on my leather. Can’t risk that.”

Fifteen minutes later, the car, softly glowing under string lights, rolled into a tiny parking lot in front of a quaint roadside ice cream stand.

They stood in front of the counter and stared at the menu written on the chalkboard.

Glancing at the menu, Taehyung muttered. “I’m craving strawberry ice cream.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s strawberry.”

Taehyung turned to Jungkook with an offended glare, “Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just… it’s so typical. I bet you also like glittery cake flavors and bubblegum.”

“Well excuse me for having range, Jeon.”

“Range? Strawberry is like the default omega pick.”

“Excuse you, again. Strawberries are elite and full of character. Unlike your boring ass who probably chooses black coffee-flavored ice cream and calls it a ‘statement.’”

Jungkook gasped. “Black coffee is sophisticated!”

“It’s bitter and sad. Just like you.”

They kept going back and forth until the vendor cleared his throat and said politely, “You two... want a couple’s combo? It comes with two flavors.”

Taehyung’s mouth opened to protest.

Jungkook was faster. “Yeah. Sure.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. “What the hell.”

“Shut up and take your strawberry potpourri,” Jungkook muttered.

Once their order was done, Taehyung and Jungkook settled side by side on the hood of Jungkook’s car. Taehyung with a double scoop of cookie crumble and strawberry, and Jungkook with a dark chocolate espresso swirl, as was to be expected.

"You're chewing it like it owes you money." In between licks, Taehyung remarked, “It’s ice cream, Jungkook. Not a punishment.”

“Forgive me for actually eating mine instead of making out with it like you are.”

Taehyung with a mischievous grin mused, “Oh..are you getting turned now Jeon?”

Jungkook snorted. “By what, you licking your ice cream like a 2nd grade schooler? Please I have standards,”

They were then surrounded by a rare and peaceful silence as the soft night breeze passed by and the sky above turned dark blue and purple. Taehyung's cheekbones were illuminated in pink and gold by the flickering neon lights of the shop behind them.

Jungkook glanced at him.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Why were you upset today?”

Taehyung stilled. The cone in his hand paused mid-air.

Jungkook watched the side of his face. “You were fine this morning. Then suddenly it was like… you vanished behind your eyes.”

After a prolonged silence, Taehyung replied. “My dad is back in Seoul,”

Jungkook blinked. “Your dad?”

Slowly, Taehyung nodded while keeping his gaze on the far-off traffic signals on the other side of the street.

He remarked, "He wasn't expected to return until graduation." And he's here now. early. And I'm not sure why.

Jungkook scowled. “Is that… bad?”

Taehyung let out a humorless laugh. “Depends who you ask. For me? Yeah. It’s bad.”

He licked at the melting edge of his cone, slower now. “My father wanted an alpha son.”

Jungkook turned towards Taehyung, to listen more attentively,

“An alpha son who can carry on the legacy,” Taehyung continued, eyes focused on the darkness above. “But then I was born. An omega. And just like that, everything I could be was already decided for me.”

Jungkook stayed quiet, letting the words settle.

Taehyung let out a bitter chuckle. “He believes omegas aren’t meant to rule. Not the house, not the business. Nothing. Just mate off to some alpha with a bigger name and stronger bite.” He scoffed. “He had me enrolled in those traditional omega prep classes when I was barely ten. You know, how to walk behind your alpha. How to host dinner parties. How to keep your voice soft and your opinions even softer.”

Jungkook’s stomach twisted.

“He hated when I wanted something of my own. Cheerleading, dancing, the team… he thinks it's degrading. He thinks I embarrass the family name when I wear glitter on my eyes and command a team on a field instead of sitting quiet in someone else’s box.”

Taehyung’s voice trembled, but only for a second. “I thought if I got a good enough sponsorship by the end of the year, I could buy my way out. Just leave it all behind. But now… he’s back. And he’s already picked someone he wants me to mate.”

Jungkook felt sick.

He realized, with a heavy weight in his gut, that all his taunts—You just like the attention. You do it for the show. You think glitter makes you special.—every cutting word he’d thrown at Taehyung over the years… they were just echoes of the same poison Taehyung had spent his whole life choking on.

And he hadn’t even known.

"I didn't know," Jungkook replied softly. "I didn't… fuck. I didn't know I was—" He caught himself, the shame constricting in his throat.

"You were just building upon it," Taehyung provided for him, tone detached.

Jungkook gritted his jaw, the remorse too audible to silence.

"Sorry. Really," he whispered. "I know I apologized already. But then, I just wanted to get on your nerves. I didn't mean to… I didn't mean to imitate him."

Taehyung exhaled a deep breath, crossing his arms over his chest as he gazed upward. "Don't be so soft just because I told you something sad," he growled. "I still hate you just as much."

Jungkook laughed. "Good. We got that sorted out."

Another silence came but this one felt less tense somehow.

Then Taehyung's voice crashed through it, "The first suitor he brought to me was Seojoon."

Jungkook's fingers fidgeted at his sides. "Seojoon?" The mention of the name left a sour taste in his mouth.

Taehyung nodded. “Yep. That’s how we met. My father brought him over. Told me this was what stability looked like.”

Jungkook scoffed before he could stop himself.

Taehyung side-eyed him. “You really hate him, huh? Just because he was stricter with you than the others when he was captain?”

“He was an asshole.”

“He was your senior.”

Jungkook grunted. “Still an asshole.”

Taehyung smiled quietly, his face relaxing for a second. "Seojoon was a good person. He knew what I was up against. He turned down my father's proposal, though. He didn't want to make me do something I didn't want to do. We spoke a lot. Honestly, he was a good friend…" Taehyung's smile disappeared, his eyes drifting off again.

Jungkook sensed an odd heaviness in his chest. "You and Seojoon. were you two ever…"

Knowing exactly what Jungkook was asking, Taehyung arched an eyebrow and let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, no. We shared a few kisses, but nothing more. Simply put, we were too at ease with one another. It was a weird feeling. You know, we didn't have that kind of connection."

The question had been bothering Jungkook, but he gritted his teeth. "Are you certain about that? because it appeared that you and him were very close.

With a playful gleam in his eye, Taehyung stole a glance at Jungkook. “It's interesting to note that Seojoon thinks your distaste for him stems from jealousy.

Jungkook gave a defensive look to Taehyung, “Jealous? Me? Of him? Please.”

Taehyung was clearly enjoying Jungkook’s reaction, “So Were you jealous of him? Did you think we were sleeping together?”

Words left Jungkook’s mouth before he could even register them in his mind, “No. Worse. He saw the real you,”

Taehyung looked mildly confused and Jungkook’s tone lowered to something serious and heavy with meaning. He said while looking into Taehyung’s eyes with an intensity, “You looked free around him. At ease. All your walls were down, and it bothered me. Because around me you were always were so guarded,”

The sincerity in Jungkook’s voice knocked the breath out of Taehyung, he sounded small when he answered, “You always have a fucking argument ready for me, Jeon. You remind me too much of my father.”

Jungkook’s hand tightened on the wheel. “I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again. I didn’t mean any of that shit seriously. It was just teasing. I’m sorry.”

Taehyung glanced sideways at him, his expression softer now. “Apology accepted,”

They sat there for a while, the air between them lighter than before, but neither of them was ready to let go of the barriers they had just constructed. It was a strange sort of intimacy — comfortable in its rawness.

Their shoulders grazed. Arms brushed occasionally. The faint touch sent warmth buzzing beneath their skin like static. Then, attempting to curl his fingers as if he were grabbing a star for himself, Taehyung raised his hand towards the starry sky.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, brow raised in amusement.

“Catching a star,” Taehyung said airily. “Maybe I’ll make a wish.”

Jungkook snorted. “You don’t get stars like that. You steal them.”

Taehyung grinned. “Who says I don’t?”

Jungkook reached up and swatted at Taehyung's hand in a playful manner. Taehyung turned to jab lightly at Jungkook's chest in retaliation, gasping. Jungkook laughed and grabbed Taehyung's wrist as they tussled—playfully, childishly—on the car's hood, limbs tangled, taunting laughter echoing into the empty road.

“Fight me properly, you coward,” Taehyung huffed, straddling Jungkook’s thigh dramatically.

“This is an unfair match. I’m defenseless against glitter,” Jungkook grinned, eyes crinkling.

“You should be,” Taehyung sniffed proudly. “I’m deadly with sparkle.”

They both laughed—freely. No guards. No biting words. Just that strange intimacy that came from being real, if only for a moment.

By the time they saw the sun bleeding pale gold into the horizon, it was already 5 AM. Between quiet talks and teasing silences, they'd passed out on the roof of Jungkook's car, shoulder to shoulder, the smell of one another lingering like something holy.

Jungkook's hoodie still dangled off Taehyung, loose and cozy, and Jungkook didn't even attempt to conceal the manner in which his eyes grew soft upon seeing it.

He drove Taehyung back to the dorm as the city slowly came back to life - deserted streets filling up people on morning jogs. Shutters opening of the stores. Jungkook parked at the curb once they reached the dorms.

Taehyung unbuckled his seat and turned to get off the car but then Jungkook leaned over the console, pulling him back by his hoodie cuff. Taehyung had only a second to react, before he felt Jungkook’s lips enveloped with his lips in a slow kiss.

It wasn’t a kiss of lust. It wasn’t rough or messy or laced with frustration like so many others before it.

 This one was soft.

 Unhurried.

 Quiet.

A kiss of silences, spoken in the words they hadn't yet been brave enough to say.

When Jungkook drew back, Taehyung's eyes still closed, lips parted but just a little. He was frozen where he was for a beat, breath stuck somewhere between his ribs.

"What…" he whispered at last. "What was that for?"

Jungkook breathed, his fingers running lightly over Taehyung's wrist.

"Nothing," he replied. "Just… let me know if you ever need to ride again."

He paused, and then said with a tiny smirk, "I can temporarily set aside my hate for you."

Taehyung snorted out a laugh, squinting one eye open to regard him, heat spreading over his cheeks. "You're such an idiot."

Jungkook didn't respond. He simply stared at Taehyung—actually stared—and noticed something else this time. The characteristic sparkle in Taehyung's eyes had mellowed to something kinder, something he never got to witness at close range. And it struck him, smartingly and wonderfully all at the same time.

He finally got to see the true Taehyung, the one without walls, the one without façade. And it was so ethereal. He wanted to shield that expression. Whatever it was.

A nanosecond too long, Taehyung leant in again and planted a small kiss on Jungkook's cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Then, with his hands tucked deep into his sleeves, his head lowered, and his hoodie still hanging off his body, he opened the door and stepped out into the early morning air. With the sunrise casting a gentle gold glow over Taehyung's figure, Jungkook trailed behind him as he headed for the dorm doors.

Jungkook sat back in his seat with a pull in his chest. Something raw - terrifying clawing into his heart. With jaws clenches and fingers tightened around the steering, he whispered, “I’ll find a way out,”

And with a silent promise to himself, he turned the car on and drove away- heart beating louder than the roaring of his car.

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.

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

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.

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

"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?

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

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.”

.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧.°˖✧

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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