Chapter 1: Prologue
Summary:
Playlist for this story :
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4yLdndM2tD0zsRpia8oUlb?si=TFsgw042RaG1693Ec8SNmQ&pi=-mi5hikTTby_1
Chapter Text
And all I can do is say that these arms were made for holdin' you, oh
And I wanna love like you made me feel
When we were eighteen
6 Years back:
"Mom," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "today... I'm going to talk to him."
She turned from the kitchen sink, drying her hands on a towel, giving him that quiet, knowing look only mothers have. He stood by the door, eighteen and trembling like a leaf in spring wind, clutching a small box.
"I've admired him from afar for so long," he continued, eyes cast down, as though saying it out loud would make it all too real. "He doesn't know me-not really-but I've seen him smile, laugh, help people when he thinks no one's watching. And... I just want to try. Maybe talk to him. Maybe-become his friend."
He looked up then, a flicker of nervous hope lighting his face. "I bought him something. Nothing fancy, just something small. I don't know if he'll even take it, but... it felt right. It felt like today should be the day."
His mom walked over, placed a warm hand on his shoulder, and nodded.
"Go on,Jungkook" she said softly. "The first step is always the hardest-but it's also the bravest."
And with that, he stepped out, heart pounding, gift in hand, ready to change the course of his quiet little world.
The morning air was crisp, carrying with it the scent of new beginnings. As Jungkook walked toward the school gates, a small gift tucked safely in his bag, his thoughts circled around one person-him.
A soft smile tugged at his lips. Today's the day, he told himself.
He imagined the moment-the first word, the look on his face when he handed him the gift, the hope of starting a real conversation. With every step, excitement twisted with nerves in his chest.
Jungkook thought that He's at the top of the school... always shining, always ahead, he thought, gripping the strap of his bag a little tighter. Would someone like him ever want to be friends with someone like me?
His pace slowed slightly.
He never talks much. Always distant, always quiet. There was a silence around him that no one dared to break.
He looks sad to me. It wasn't something most people would notice. But in the way he stared out the window during lunch, in the half-smiles that never quite reached his eyes... it was there.
Why is he like that? What is he hiding?
The school building loomed ahead, but today, it didn't feel as intimidating as before.
Maybe, Jungkook thought maybe he's just waiting for someone to talk to him.
And maybe-just maybe-today, Jungkook could be that someone to him.
That evening, Jungkook returned home with his head down and his steps slower than usual. The sunlight filtering through the windows didn't feel warm anymore. He dropped his bag gently and sat down on the edge of the couch.
His mother noticed it immediately-the way he wouldn't meet her eyes, the way his usual glow had dimmed.
"What happened?" she asked softly.
He looked up, hesitated, then sighed.
"He didn't come to school today," he murmured. "The one I was going to talk to... he wasn't there. He never takes leave. Ever."
He paused, glancing at the small gift he still hadn't given. "I don't know what happened, but something feels... wrong.
Under the harsh white lights of a cold hospital room, a boy was crying.
He was on his knees, clinging desperately to the side of a hospital bed-no, two beds. His cries were not soft; they were raw, broken, the kind of sobs that rip through the throat and never quite leave the chest. Two lifeless bodies lay there, covered in white sheets that did nothing to hide the truth.
He didn't know how this had happened. But what he did know-what stabbed deeper than any blade-was that his world had ended here. His parents were gone.
Gone.
And now... he was alone.
"Stop crying, idiot," a stern voice broke through the grief like a slap. His grandfather stood at the door, arms folded, jaw tight.
"Be a man. You have a lot of responsibilities from now on. How will you do anything in life if this is how you act?"
The boy trembled but obeyed. He stood slowly, wiping his tears with the back of his hand, heart still shattering in silence.
"Jungkook," the old man said firmly, "stand up now."
He did.
Still shaking, still lost-but standing.
"How did this can happen?" Jungkook finally asked, voice dry and hollow.
The old man looked away for a second, then muttered, "An accident..."
Jungkook's eyes darkened. "So you didn't capture anybody?"
"The driver's been caught," the grandfather replied. "He is in custody."
The silence that followed was heavy. But in Jungkook's chest, something stirred-not just sorrow, but something harder. Something colder.
The next day, Jungkook didn't return as a student.
He returned as someone who no longer belonged.
His uniform still fit, but it felt like a costume now-something borrowed from a life he could no longer claim. The bright corridors of the school, once familiar, now seemed distant, like echoes of a dream fading with each step.
He wasn't here to attend class. He was here to say goodbye.
Not to friends-he never had many.
Not to teachers-they would understand in time.
He was here for one person. One person who had always caught his attention in ways he never fully understood. The quiet boy with kind eyes, the boy who he is everything for him may be now.
He searched the hallways, peeked into classrooms, waited near the corner they had crossed paths sometimes before.
But fate, cruel as ever, had other plans.
He didn't find him.
With a heart that felt too heavy for his chest, Jungkook stood alone near the school gates. The gift still hidden in his mind, the words he never said still frozen on his tongue.
"Goodbye," he whispered-not just to the boy, but to a version of himself that would never exist again. "Goodbye... to my heart."
From now on, there was no room for dreams, no space for softness.
He was the sole heir to his grandfather now. The old man who stood tall and cold like winter, expecting him to do the same.
From now on, he would be shaped by command, not by choice.
From now on, he would bury his happiness so deep no one could ever dig it back up.
He would become the man his grandfather needed, the man the world would not break-because he would no longer let it.
With tears he vowed would be his last, he stepped beyond the school gates-leaving behind not just the building, but the pieces of a heart he could no longer carry.
Chapter 2: Paradise
Chapter Text
You rolled the dice
Now you're on thin ice
Priceless, can't pay the price
You should take my advice
Here gravity doesn't apply
And it's still a sunset at night
(Ooh) here the bugs don't bite
Automatic lullabies, purple clouds in the sky
Welcome to my paradise <3
The sky is dim, stained with the last smudges of twilight. A cold breeze cuts through the nearly empty bus station. A few flickering fluorescent lights buzz above.
A young man, mid-20s, slouches on a metal bench. His shoulders are heavy, face sunken with exhaustion. His eyes are half-closed, lost somewhere between the present and everything he wishes he could forget. He lets out a long, tired sigh-the kind that has weight, the kind that sounds like defeat.
A digital board overhead blinks. The sound of an approaching engine grows louder.
The bus finally pulls into the station, brakes hissing, headlights slicing through the dusk.
He gets up slowly. His legs ache, not from walking but from the drag of a long, bitter day. He climbs aboard the bus with quiet footsteps, nodding slightly to the driver without a word.
Rows of faded seats, stained from years of travel. A low hum from the engine, the occasional rattle of windows.
He walks down the aisle, not looking left or right. He reaches the very back of the bus.
There, by the window, already seated, a man, about the same age. Hood up, chin resting on his hand, eyes fixed on something invisible outside the window. He doesn't move, doesn't even glance over.
He nods to himself, almost automatically, and sits beside the stranger on the window side of the opposite end. He leans his head against the cool glass and exhales slowly, his breath fogging the window.
Outside, the world blurs by. Streetlights, shadows, tired shops closing for the night.
He watches them pass, but doesn't really see them. His eyes are distant.
In his mind, the weight of too many disappointments presses down.
Where did it all go wrong?
He doesn't cry. He doesn't sigh anymore. He just sits, eyes hollow, caught between memory and numbness.
And beside him, a stranger still stares outside-two strangers, side by side in silence, each lost in his own private storm.
The bus rumbles on into the night.
The bus rolls through dimly lit streets. A lull has settled over everything-just the soft hum of the engine and the occasional streetlight flickering past the windows.
He is still staring blankly outside, his reflection overlapping the moving city lights.
Then-
With a sharp ding, the bus slows to a stop. The brakes hiss again.
The stranger, the quiet figure who had been sitting near the back, suddenly stands. No hesitation, no farewell. He moves quickly down the aisle, as if he almost missed his stop.
The sudden movement snaps him out of his thoughts. He turns his head, watching the stranger in a hurry. Something drops from the streanger's jacket pocket-small, brown, and soft-it hits the floor near his feet with a faint thud.
He bends down quickly and picks it up.
It's a keychain-a little brown plush bear, gently worn, with a black embroidered "J" on its chest. There's something oddly comforting about it.
He looks up, holding the keychain in his hand.
Hey-wait! You dropped-
But the doorway is already empty. No trace of the person. Just cold air drifting in.
The doors close with a clunk, and the bus begins moving again.
He twists around, looking through the rear window and then out the side, eyes scanning the dark street.
Only faint silhouettes. A flicker of movement. Maybe.
A cap, a mask-that's all he remembers of stranger's face. But now... no one. Just emptiness.
He lets out a short breath, almost a laugh but sadder than one. He stares at the keychain in his hand again.
The bus rattles on. He turns it over. It's soft. Warm, somehow. warm like someone may be.
He holds it there for a while, deep in thought, then gently slips it into his pocket as the bus begins to slow again.
Another stop. He looks up-it's his.
Without a word, he stands, walks down the aisle, and steps off the bus into the night.
He walks through the cracked, uneven pavement of his neighborhood. The streetlights flicker above like they're just as tired as the people who live beneath them. Walls chipped with time, graffiti faded, and trash clinging to corners. It's the kind of place no one dreams of living in-but it's his place. The only one he's got.
He reaches a worn-down building and pushes open the rusted gate with a creak. The door sticks a little before it opens with a groan. Inside, it's dim but warmer-faint smells of home-cooked food and old wood linger in the air.
A gentle, familiar voice calls out from the living room.
''Taehyung? Is it you?''
He closes the door behind him, dropping his bag with a soft thud.
''Yeah, Mom. It's me.''
He steps into the living area, and there she is-his mother, sitting on a chair near the small heater, knitting something with careful hands and tired eyes. Her hair is streaked with grey, tied back in a loose bun. She gives him a soft, worn smile.
''How was the interview?''
TAEHYUNG sighs, running a hand through his hair.
''As usual...''
She doesn't ask more. She already knows.
''Where's Noona?''
''In her room. She's been quiet today.''
Taehyung gives a slow nod. He looks toward the hallway, the weight of the day pressing on his shoulders again. But this-his mother, his sister, this old, broken-down place-is what keeps him standing. This is what he comes back for.
Tae quietly pushed open the door to his sister's room. She sat by the window, hunched slightly over the table, her frail fingers scribbling something into a worn notebook. The wheelchair creaked as she shifted.
"Noona," he said softly, "I told you to take some rest."
She looked up, a tired smile playing on her lips. "What will rest do, Tae?"
He stepped closer, his voice thick with emotion. "You know... today's interview wasn't that bad. I think I might get the job. And then-"
"Then what?" she interrupted, her eyes locking onto his. "Then what, Tae? Will I be able to walk?"
He hesitated, swallowing hard. "Noona, don't say that... The doctor said-once the money's arranged-your operation can be successful. This time for sure."
She looked away, her voice low and distant. "They've been saying that for the past eight years."
Tae's hands trembled slightly as he reached out, but she shook her head.
"I will rest," she said quietly, with finality. "You should too. Go now."
Tae stood still for a moment, eyes glistening, before nodding silently and backing out of the room, carrying the weight of hope and helplessness all at once.
Tae entered his room and quietly shut the door behind him. The moment it clicked shut, the strength drained from his body, and he slumped onto the bed like a puppet with cut strings. He stared blankly at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with the weight of everything he carried. The silence pressed in around him, broken only by the echo of dreams-dreams once so vivid now flickering like dying embers. They replayed in his mind: the places he wanted to go, the life he wanted to give his sister, the person he hoped to become. But reality-cruel and unrelenting-kept chaining him down. Every responsibility screamed louder than his desires. And yet, buried beneath that exhaustion, something stirred. A thought. A decision. Quiet, but dangerous. Something he hadn't dared consider before... not until now.
Tae sat up slowly, his fingers gripping the edge of the mattress as if to anchor himself. His heart thudded against his ribs, not from fear-but from something else. Desperation, maybe. Or determination. He opened the drawer beside his bed and pulled out an old envelope, its corners worn and smudged with fingerprints. Inside were faded brochures, half-written letters, and a business card with a name he had promised himself he'd never call again.
He remembered the man clearly-slick smile, expensive watch, and eyes that gleamed like they knew every weakness in a person. Tae had said no then. Said he'd never trade his integrity for money. But now, with his sister's pain echoing louder than his pride, that "no" didn't feel so certain anymore.
He clenched the card in his hand. "One call," he whispered. "Just one."
But as he reached for his phone, a message popped up from the hospital-Reminder: Final appointment confirmation needed for surgery consultation. Payment deadline: 3 days.
Three days. That was all he had.
His fingers hovered over the call button, trembling. This wasn't just about a job anymore. It was about choosing between what was right and what was necessary. And sometimes... those two things were worlds apart.
The phone felt heavier in his hand than it should have, as though it already knew the weight of the decision he was about to make. Tae stared at the screen, the contact name glowing like a warning: Mr. Kang. His thumb hovered over the dial button, breath shallow. He could hear his sister's voice in his head, soft and stubborn-"Don't lose yourself for me." But what did losing himself even mean anymore? He was already drowning.
Mr. Kang could make the money appear-fast. But it came with shadows. Rumors of illegal shipments, threats, disappearing debtors. Tae had always kept his distance. He was no criminal.
But now... now he had three days.
He opened the drawer again, hands shaking.
Just as Tae was about to press the call button, a loud ringtone sliced through the silence, making him jolt. He looked at the screen-an unknown business number. With hesitant fingers, he answered.
"Hello, Mr. Kim? I'm calling from JT Corp. You gave an interview today, right?" came a calm voice from the other end.
"Yes, yes," Tae replied, heart suddenly racing.
"Well, you've been hired."
"What?" Tae blinked, stunned.
The man chuckled lightly. "I know this isn't the most professional hour to call, but we need a secretary on an urgent basis. Could you join tomorrow?"
"Yes, I can! Absolutely," Tae said quickly, barely containing the tremor in his voice.
"Great. I'll send you the details and timings shortly. See you tomorrow, Mr. Kim."
"Thank you, sir. Thank you so much."
"No problem. Have a good night."
The call ended, but Tae's emotions didn't. For a moment, he sat frozen, processing what just happened. Then, like a burst of energy, he shot up from the bed and rushed out of his room, almost tripping in his excitement.
"Umma! Noona!" he shouted, his voice ringing through the small apartment. "I got the job! I GOT THE JOB!"
His mother peeked from the kitchen, eyes wide. His sister turned in her wheelchair, startled. Tae was practically bouncing, the weight he had carried moments ago now lifted just enough to let hope flood in. For the first time in a long while, the night didn't feel so heavy.
Tae, still catching his breath, turned to his mother with a mix of disbelief and awe in his eyes. "Umma... I didn't expect this at all. I mean, I have a degree, but you know how my education was. I always felt like I was behind compared to others. And at that interview, there were so many candidates-more polished, more experienced. I don't know why they picked me. Maybe it was just luck..."
His mother stepped closer, her voice firm yet full of warmth. "It wasn't luck, Tae. You've worked harder than anyone I know. Studying alone, pushing through without support, it made you strong, focused. They saw something in you."
Tae swallowed hard, the lump in his throat rising as her words sank in. For the first time, he allowed himself to think... maybe he was chosen because of everything he'd overcome, not in spite of it.
As Tae turned to head back to his room, still buzzing with a quiet mix of disbelief and pride, his mother's voice gently called after him, "Tae... tomorrow is also..." She paused, her words faltering, the weight of them pressing against her chest. "If you have some time... maybe you could visit him?"
He froze in his steps. His back stiffened, and for a moment, silence filled the room. His hand, resting on the edge of the doorframe, slowly clenched into a fist. But he didn't turn around. Not even a glance. Without a word, he stepped into his room and slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing louder than any response he could have given.
His mother stood still for a moment, her eyes softening with years of unspoken grief and memories she never dared bring up too often. She sighed-long, quiet, and resigned-and turned back toward the kitchen, saying nothing more.
Jungkook stepped into the grand but quiet living room, his expression blank, posture straight-every inch molded by years of discipline. His grandfather sat in his usual chair near the fireplace, the old man's sharp gaze landing on him the moment he entered. "So you came? Sit."
Without a word, Jungkook sat across from him, his eyes not betraying a single emotion.
"All the arrangements have been made. You'll join from tomorrow."
"Okay."
His grandfather's voice hardened. "I heard you were at the office today."
"Yes," Jungkook replied curtly.
"Why?"
"I just wanted to check a few things before starting."
A pause. Then, the old man leaned forward slightly, his voice low and commanding. "Good. You know this responsibility I'm handing over-I don't want disappointment."
"You won't be," Jungkook said without hesitation.
His grandfather's stare lingered for a moment before he gave one final piece of advice-one that had shaped Jungkook for as long as he could remember. "Never get too attached, Jungkook. People are temporary, feelings are distractions, and trust-trust is for fools. Lead with your mind, not your heart. That's how empires survive."
Jungkook nodded once. No reaction. But deep within him, a piece of warmth-something human-shrunk a little smaller, buried under years of cold expectation.
After his brief exchange with his grandfather, Jungkook walked to his private room, his body rigid with the weight of expectations. The door clicked shut behind him, and for the first time in hours, he allowed himself a breath-one that felt heavier than it should have. The cold, calculating mask that he wore throughout the meeting melted away, leaving only the man behind it, struggling to breathe.
He walked over to the bed and sat down, his hands reaching instinctively for the inside pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a small picture. For what felt like forever, he stared at it, his heart tightening in ways he couldn't explain. There was something in his eyes now-something raw and unspoken. Vulnerability? Regret? It didn't matter. He hadn't allowed himself to feel this in so long.
Without a word, he opened the drawer beside his bed, revealing a small velvet box. He hesitated for a second before carefully placing the picture inside, closing the box with deliberate care. His fingers lingered on the lid for a moment, as if he could feel the weight of the past pressing against it.
Jungkook slumped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling with a detached emptiness. His thoughts swirled like an endless storm. What am I doing? What is happening to me? The questions felt foreign-he was supposed to be in control, a man built from steel, not someone who questioned his own existence. Am I even alive?
The stillness in the room consumed him, and for the first time in a long while, Jungkook didn't know what to do with the quiet that surrounded him.
Chapter 3: Glimpse of us
Chapter Text
Cause sometimes I look in his eyes, and that's where I find a glimpse of us
And I try to fall for his touch, but I'm thinking of the way it was
Said, "I'm fine" and said, "I moved on"
I'm only here passing time in his arms
Hoping I'll find a glimpse of us
The morning sun flared against the towering glass of HYTECH Corp, its rays too bright for the kind of day Taehyung was walking into. The building loomed over the city like a polished monument to modern ambition—steel and glass and the weight of a hundred silent expectations. Taehyung stepped through the revolving doors, black suit hugging his frame with cold precision, tie cinched to the collar, hair combed but not without defiance. He didn’t walk like a newcomer. He walked like someone who had already survived the war and now simply followed orders.
His phone buzzed in his coat pocket.
MOM:
“Make sure you eat something today. You left you that egg sandwich I made today. Please don’t skip your breakfast.”
His expression didn’t shift. He slid the phone back without unlocking it.
Another buzz. This time, slower. Longer.
MOM:
“Also… Taehyung, I know we talked last night. Just think about what I said. Please.”
This time, his hand lingered. His jaw flexed once. But he still didn’t reply. Some things were easier to ignore than to confront—especially when the confrontation was with the reflection he couldn't afford to acknowledge.
As he stepped toward the elevators, voices filtered through from a group gathered near the lounge.
“So they really appointed him?”
“Yeah. Youngest CEO. ”
“No credentials. No known business experience. No public background. Just... dropped in.”
“There are rumors, though.”
“Well, perks of having rich grandparents.”
“No, I heard he was involved in one of the project that hits last year. ”
The words came out like venom wrapped in curiosity, but Taehyung didn’t turn toward them. Still, something about the tone rooted itself in his mind. Not because it surprised him. But because it felt familiar.
No past. No story. No trail.
What kind of man walks into power without leaving footprints?
As the elevator doors closed in front of him, the question echoed inside Taehyung’s head louder than the clatter of gossip.
He approached the front desk where an older man in formal attire glanced up from a clipboard.
"Good Morning " Taehyung said.
“Kim Taehyung?” the man asked.
“Yes.”
The man checked something in computer screen and then turned to taehyung.
“You’ll be working as the CEO’s personal secretary. He wants to meet you today. Prepare accordingly.”
Taehyung blinked. “Sorry, sir. I think there’s been a mistake. I was interviewed for working as a departmental secretary—logistics or administrative. I don’t have experience for that level of responsibility.”
The man didn’t even flinch. “There’s a new CEO. The structure changed overnight.”
That was it. No apologies. No explanations. Just changed overnight. Taehyung is confused. Before he goes further in any more thoughts. The man speaks again.
"You need to head now to conference room. New CEO is coming today to brief with his staff firstly."
He walked away before Taehyung could ask anything further.
Taehyung remained frozen for a moment. Personal secretary? That position was leagues above what he’d expected. His brows drew together as the weight of the unexpected shift began pressing in on his chest.
When he arrived on the executive floor, the environment changed entirely. The air was colder. The silence, deeper. Floors glistened, and even the walls seemed to hold their breath. People moved with polished efficiency, eyes focused, backs straight. No wasted movement. No wasted words.
Then the conference room.
Wide. Sleek. Drenched in natural light from floor-to-ceiling windows. Executives gathered with stiff posture, murmuring in rehearsed tones. The chair at the head of the table was still empty.
Then the door creaked open.
Someone stepped in.
Not loudly. Not with a show of power. But something in the air shifted—subtly, sharply. Conversations paused mid-word. Heads turned. Taehyung glanced up, eyes catching on the figure moving toward the head of the table.
Young. Unusually young. Dressed in tailored black, posture relaxed yet precise. He didn’t walk like he owned the room—but the room responded to him anyway.
Every step was measured, unhurried, as if time adjusted itself around his pace.
Taehyung couldn't place it—what it was exactly. There was no expression on the man’s face, no hint of emotion. And yet, something about him made it impossible to look away.
The seat at the head of the table—his seat—welcomed him like it had been waiting for no one else.
Taehyung’s gaze lingered, mind racing, unsure, his pulse had quickened.
The room quieted.
There was no announcement. No warm smile. He merely took his place at the head of the table, placed a single black folder in front of him, and exhaled silently.
Taehyung’s gaze lifted—drawn, not directed. And for the briefest moment, their eyes met.
Recognition? No?
Resonance? May be?
Two masks, staring at each other.
Both unreadable. Both… not normal.
The meeting began.
Jungkook’s voice was calm—measured, yet distant. He introduced himself with the kind of language that left no doors open.
"I am Jeon Jungkook appointed as the Head of this JT corp from today."
He continued further and then his final words:
“You don’t have to trust me. You just need to work. The results will answer every question you don’t have the nerve to ask.”
Taehyung is still in the whole meeting.
Once.
Twice.
Three times during the meeting, Taehyung found those eyes drifting towards him again. Not long. Just enough to unsettle. Each time their gazes touched, something tightened in the air—like glass stretching under pressure.
Neither looked away first.
By the end, names were exchanged, departments reassigned, and new protocols announced. A few were stunned. A few skeptical. Most confused.
But Taehyung?
He was still trying to figure out what he had just seen.
The department manager led him toward the west wing of the building, down quieter halls where silence pooled in corners.
“You’ll be working as the CEO’s personal secretary,” the manager said, avoiding eye contact.
Taehyung’s steps didn’t falter. But his mind did.
CEO's Secretary? Just wow right?
He nodded curtly. No complaints. No questions. Orders were orders.
Back at his desk—now suddenly feeling like enemy territory—he sat down quietly, hands still, face calm, but mind… crowded.
The whispers from earlier gossips replayed in his head.
“Young. Inexperienced.” “No history. No public records. Appointed without notice.” “There’s something off about him.”
Taehyung wasn’t curious. He was concerned.
And somewhere beneath that concern… there was a flicker of something else. A pull. A warning.
He looked away. The weight returned.
His sister. The hospital bills. The silent nights.
All of it.
And now, this unexpected promotion.
Responsibility he didn’t ask for. Visibility he didn’t want.
He was still lost in thought when the intercom buzzed, its sound jarring in the silence.
“Mr. Kim Taehyung. The CEO is expecting you in his office now.”
His breath caught for a second.
His hands—shaking slightly—adjusted his collar.
A quiet, grounding inhale.
Then he stood.
The doors to the CEO’s office loomed ahead like the entrance to some unfamiliar realm. The matte-black finish was smooth and modern, the silver nameplate reading:
Jeon Jungkook – CEO
Two knocks.
“Come in,” came a calm voice from within.
Taehyung opened the door slowly, stepping into a space that looked more like an art gallery than an office. It was large and dimly lit with cool-toned sunlight from massive windows. Minimalist in design. Expensive in taste.
His eyes roamed—dark hardwood, sleek metal, a modern sculpture twisting in impossible shapes. Then his gaze moved to the desk.
There he was.
Jeon Jungkook. Seated calmly, fingers dancing on a tablet, expression unreadable.
Taehyung’s voice was steady, though quiet. “Good morning, sir.”
Jungkook lifted his head, offering a nod and the ghost of a polite smile. His tone was smoother than Taehyung expected, calm but not cold.
“Good morning. You must be Taehyung,” Jungkook said. “Come in. Close the door.”
He obeyed, quietly walking toward the desk.
“You’ve had a chance to settle in?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I like knowing who I’ll be working with closely. So let me ask you a few things—basic, don’t worry.” His voice remained neutral. Not warm. But not cruel either.
Taehyung nodded, a little stiff.
"So I want to start from basic. Your Education? " Jungkook asked.
Eyes fixed on Taehyung.
Taehyung hesitated. Just slightly.
“Everything’s on my CV, sir. I didn’t… I haven’t lied.”
Jungkook’s brow lifted slightly. “I didn’t say you had.”
His tone was gentle. Almost amused. “Relax.”
Taehyung blinked, feeling heat climb up his neck.
“Let’s start from the beginning,” Jungkook said casually, leaning back. “High school?”
Taehyung closed his eyes for a second. Something changed in this posture and then suddenly jungkook speak.
"Sorry Mr Kim if I made you uncomfortable? You don't have to say. I apol_"
“Yeonsang High School.” Taehyung cut him in between.
"Huh? "
"I studied in Yeonsang high school"
"Oh__ alright. which year?"
“…2018.”
A pause.
“I read in your portfolio your graduation is delayed?” Jungkook’s question was soft—but something is there may be eagerness to know it.
Taehyung stiffened. If he read the portfolio already why asking again hmm. He shrugged the feeling.
His voice faltered, just for a beat.
“Personal… reasons.”
A longer pause.
Jungkook’s fingers tapped once against his desk.
His face stayed composed, but something flickered behind his eyes. Something thoughtful. Worried, perhaps. But carefully hidden.
“I see,” he said finally. "That’s alright... You got your degree from virtual Institute? "
"Yes... Same reasons." Taehyung’s words hung in the air, heavy with uncertainty. He paused, then met Jungkook’s eyes, his voice steady but laced with tension. “I already told them that I’m not qualified for this job, but they said I was appointed by management. If, sir, you don’t find me valuable, I can work anywhere else as well.”
Jungkook’s gaze flickered, momentarily drifting away, as if considering Taehyung's words carefully. Then, with an almost imperceptible sigh, he turned back to him. His eyes softened, though the weight of authority never quite left his voice. “I didn’t mean it that way,” he said, his tone calming but firm. “I wasn’t questioning your qualifications. I only want the best, and if you’re here, there’s a reason for it.”
He paused for a beat, and then, almost as if a switch flipped, the warmth in his tone quickly masked by the cool professionalism. “We all start somewhere, Mr. Kim. You’re here because the management believes in you. Let’s keep it that way.”
Taehyung didn’t reply.
“You’ve been informed about your position?” Jungkook asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll be relying on you directly,” Jungkook added. “I need you to be… close.”
Taehyung blinked. “Pardon?”
“I mean close in terms of schedule. Meetings. Communication. Travel, sometimes. You’ll handle my calendar, contacts, and correspondence.”
“Oh… of course.” Taehyung composed himself quickly.
Jungkook studied him for another moment. Not intrusively. But with the kind of gaze that searched for shadows beneath still water.
“Don’t be afraid to speak up,” Jungkook said after a moment. “I don’t expect perfection. Just… honesty. And patience.”
Taehyung gave a stiff nod.
He wasn’t sure what this new role would cost him.
But he was beginning to realize…
Nothing about this was going to be ordinary.
Taehyung returned to his desk, the lingering tension from the meeting still curled around his thoughts like smoke. He couldn’t shake the feeling from earlier—the way that man’s eyes, unreadable and sharp, had met his more than once. Every time their gazes had locked, something inside him had paused, like holding in a breath too long. But the atmosphere shifted the moment he walked in, and now, Taehyung couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Fifteen minutes later, Taehyung was still lost in his own thoughts, staring at his screen but not seeing a single word.
Knock.
A soft tap on his desk pulled him out of the fog. He blinked up—and his breath caught.
Standing right there was the CEO himself.
"Mr. Kim," the man said evenly, one brow raised. "Are you listening?"
Taehyung jolted upright, flustered. "Y-Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. What’s the problem?"
"I’ve been asking for a while. You didn’t respond."
Taehyung cursed himself silently. "Apologies, sir. How can I help?"
"We need to go somewhere," the CEO replied, adjusting the cuffs of his coat. "And I need you with me."
"Of course, sir. Should I make any arrangements?"
"No need. It’s just a site visit. Bring the tablet and the related files. That should be enough."
Jungkook turned to walk away, but paused after a few steps. Taehyung was bent to pick something from the desk when he heard his name again.
"Mr. Kim."
"Yes, sir?" he replied, straightening politely.
Their eyes met again. Brief. But charged. Something flickered behind both gazes—quick, undefined.
"Do you know how to drive?"
Taehyung blinked. "Yes, I have a license."
"Good. Then I don’t need a driver."
With that, Jungkook disappeared back into his office.
Taehyung just stood there.
What just happened? I’m a secretary… not a chauffeur. Right?
A few minutes later, they reached the parking area.
The CEO extended the car keys toward him without a word. Taehyung took them hesitantly and made his way to the driver’s side. He slid into the seat and was just adjusting when he heard the other door open.
Jungkook slid into the passenger seat like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Taehyung turned to him with wide eyes.
"You’ll sit here?" he asked, unsure if he sounded disrespectful or just surprised.
"Why?" Jungkook tilted his head slightly, amused. "Is there a problem?"
"N-No, I mean… you’re the CEO. I thought you’d sit in the back…"
A quiet chuckle.
"You’re not my driver either, Mr. Kim," Jungkook said, resting one arm on the window frame. "So, fair enough? Don’t overthink it."
Taehyung flushed and started the car, his thoughts running far faster than the vehicle.
Why is this man treating me like a friend?
With others, he had been sharp. Distant. Cold. But with Taehyung… he was warm in a way that made him uncomfortable. Like he was being seen.
And Taehyung didn’t know if he was ready for that.
As the engine hummed beneath them and the city stretched out ahead, neither of them spoke. But silence didn’t mean peace. It meant questions. Weight.
Taehyung kept his eyes on the road, but he could feel Jungkook's gaze—calm, unreadable—like it was trying to see beneath the surface.
And somewhere deep inside, something told him… this was only the beginning.
Chapter 4: You are the reason
Chapter Text
There goes my heart beating
'Cause you are the reason
I'm losing my sleep
Please come back now
Taehyung sat quietly in the car, his gaze fixed outside as the city blurred past. Jungkook, seated beside him, was unusually warm and professional-offering directions, even the occasional smile.
Why is he being so friendly all of a sudden? Taehyung wondered, the question looping in his head. What's his motive?
When they arrived at the construction site, Jungkook stepped out first. "Taehyung-ssi, come," he called in a composed tone, already reviewing the plans. Taehyung followed, watching as Jungkook flipped through blueprints and gave clear instructions to the team. His seriousness was impressive-focused and commanding.
"Can you hand me the structural file?" Jungkook asked, holding out his hand without looking up. Taehyung complied and then walked to the other side of the site to inspect the materials with one of the workers.
Taehyung was midway through discussing reinforcement details with a worker when he suddenly heard Jungkook's voice from across the site-loud, urgent, unlike anything he'd heard from him before.
"Taehyung!!!! move!"
Taehyung turned, startled, only to see Jungkook running toward him, eyes wide with panic, feet pounding against the gravel. For a split second, Taehyung just stood there-confused, unable to register what was happening. Then he heard it: a creaking, screeching sound of metal above him. When he looked up, a massive steel beam, loosened from its hold, was tumbling from the scaffolding-right toward where he was standing.
Time seemed to slow. His heartbeat roared in his ears. He couldn't move. He couldn't even breathe.
And then-
A force hit him from the side, strong arms wrapping around him, shielding him as they crashed onto the ground. Dust burst up around them. Everything was a blur. For a moment, all he could feel was warmth-arms still tightly around him, heartbeats thudding too close, too fast.
When Taehyung opened his eyes, Jungkook was above him, his face pale, lips parted like he wanted to say something but couldn't. His eyes searched Taehyung's face desperately, almost like confirming he was still real, still breathing.
There was something unspoken in that look-fear, relief, something heavy and raw. As if he had just lost something and somehow got it back.
"You okay?" Jungkook asked softly, voice laced with something fragile.
Taehyung was still in a daze, but he could feel the weight of the moment-the way Jungkook's hand lingered on his shoulder, grounding him, checking.
"Are you okay?" he asked again, voice lower this time, steadier.
Taehyung blinked, his breath finally returning. "Y-Yeah... I'm alright."
Jungkook helped him up. Their eyes met briefly, a flicker of something passing between them-something neither of them could name.
"Are you okay, sir?" Taehyung asked, voice quiet.
"I'm alright," Jungkook replied, already turning away. But his face had hardened. He faced the workers now, voice cold and biting.
"Are you all working properly? What would've happened if I hadn't noticed that?"
Silence fell across the site like a heavy fog. No one dared to speak.
"Sir, it's okay... everything's alright." Taehyung said gently, trying to diffuse the tension.
Jungkook didn't reply. He just gave a sharp look and walked toward the car.
The ride back to the company was heavy-quiet, intense. No words were exchanged, but the air between them was charged with something new, something neither of them could put into words.
The car ride back to the company was drenched in silence-an awkward, heavy kind that neither dared to break. Taehyung stole glances at Jungkook, but the latter kept his eyes ahead, lips pressed into a thin line. No words.
No acknowledgment. Just silence. As soon as they reached, Jungkook walked off briskly, disappearing into his office without a single look back.
Taehyung stood still for a moment near his cabin, a knot tightening in his chest. What... just happened back there? His mind replayed the scene in fragments-the beam, the push, the arms around him, and the look in this man's eyes. Why did he look at me like that? Like I almost slipped through his fingers... like I mattered?
Just then, the intercom buzzed. "Mr. Kim, come to my office." Jungkook's voice was sharp, formal.
Taehyung blinked. "Yes, sir," he said quietly, rising to his feet. But the moment he took a step, the room seemed to tilt. His vision blurred slightly, and he instinctively grabbed the side of the desk to steady himself. Maybe the adrenaline's fading... or the fall is catching up, he thought, brushing it off and moving toward the CEO's office. He knocked once.
"Come in."
Inside, Jungkook was already buried in paperwork, not even glancing up. "There are two meetings tomorrow, Mr. Kim. One with the foreign delegates at ten, and another internal review at noon. You need to prepare the presentation slides, print the portfolios-"
But he stopped mid-sentence. No reply came. He looked up.
Taehyung stood there, still as stone, his eyes unfocused, gazing somewhere into nothingness. He hadn't heard a single word. Lost in a haze of emotions, thoughts tangled up in today's chaos.
"Mr. Kim," Jungkook repeated, a bit louder. Still no response.
"Mr. Kim!" he almost yelled.
Taehyung flinched hard. "Y-Yes, sir?"
"Are you even paying attention?" Jungkook's eyes narrowed.
"I-I'm sorry, sir..."
"This is the third time-on your first day-what exactly is going on with you?" Jungkook snapped, voice rising. "I ask something, you apologize. I say something, you apologize. For God's sake, stop apologizing!"
He didn't notice how his voice cracked, how his frustration bled into something more than just irritation. It wasn't just about missed words-it was something deeper, something he couldn't quite name.
Taehyung's eyes widened-doe-like, startled, almost hurt.
Realization hit Jungkook. He pulled back. "Mr. Kim... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice."
"No, sir, it's my fault. You were asking about the meetings. I-I'll get the documents ready," Taehyung said quickly, the words tumbling out in panic as he turned to leave.
Before Jungkook could say anything else, Taehyung had already rushed out. Jungkook stared at the door for a few seconds before he stood up abruptly and, in a wave of frustration, swept the files off his desk. Papers flew, thudding against the floor. He slumped into his chair, burying his face in his hands, fingers tugging at his hair. What the hell is wrong with me?
Back at his desk, Taehyung sat down slowly, guilt gnawing at him. Why am I like this today? He saved me... and I'm failing him at work. He's being decent... and I'm just spacing out. He turned on the computer and focused, pouring himself into the tasks-scheduling, printing, organizing every detail for tomorrow. Hours passed. By the time he was done, the clock showed 5:00 PM. He let out a soft sigh, stretched his fingers, and walked toward Jungkook's office.
He knocked once. No response. He knocked again-still silence. Hesitating, he gently pushed the door open. The room was dimmer now. Jungkook's head was resting on the table, arms folded like a wall between him and the world.
Is he asleep?
Then Taehyung noticed the mess on the floor-papers everywhere, scattered like chaos frozen mid-storm. His brows furrowed. What happened here? Without a word, he stepped in and crouched down, quietly starting to gather the documents.
Suddenly, Jungkook stirred. He looked up, eyes heavy with exhaustion, and saw Taehyung on the floor.
"Mr. Kim, what are you doing?"
Taehyung stood slowly, startled. "Sir... there was a mess, so I thought I'd-"
"You're not a maid to clean my mess," Jungkook cut in, walking over and kneeling beside him. He took the files from Taehyung's hands and stacked them on the table. "Just do the work you're assigned for."
Taehyung stood still, unsure, awkwardness curling in his chest. Then he remembered.
"Sir... all the documents are prepared for tomorrow's meetings," he said softly.
Jungkook, still focused on arranging the files, didn't look up. "Okay. You can go home, then."
Taehyung stood for a second longer, then murmured, "Thank you, sir," and quietly stepped out.
Jungkook's hands paused. He turned, eyes lingering on the door Taehyung had just exited. For a long minute, he just stared, the silence thick around him. Then he sighed-long, tired-and leaned back in his chair, the weight of something he couldn't explain pressing against his chest.
Taehyung reached home just as the sky turned a dull shade of grey, exhaustion clinging to every step he took. His shoulders ached-not just from the day's workload but from the emotional heaviness that hadn't left him since morning. As he opened the door, the familiar warmth of home greeted him-faint aromas from the kitchen, the soft chatter of his mother and sister, the clinking of utensils.
"You're back," his mother said with a gentle smile. "Go wash your hands. Dinner's ready. I'm sure you didn't even eat lunch."
Taehyung offered her a tired smile. "Too much work... I forgot." He washed up, his movements slow, robotic, and sat down at the dining table.
They ate in quiet harmony for a while, with his noona occasionally asking about his new job and teasing him about the suit he wore. He answered in short replies, his mind still stuck somewhere between a pair of intense eyes and a voice that scolded and softened all at once.
Then, after a pause-just when Taehyung felt like maybe the day could end peacefully-his mother spoke, voice tentative. "Taehyung... what did you think about what we talked about yesterday?"
His hand froze mid-bite. The spoon hovered in the air for a second before slowly lowering to the plate. His fingers clenched tightly, jaw ticking. He didn't say anything. Just kept eating.
"Taehyung," his mother tried again, a bit more gently this time. "Please... he's your father."
Something in him snapped.
"He was," Taehyung said, his voice low, trembling, raw. "Actually, he barely even was. So, no... he is not my father."
His mother flinched. "I know he made mistakes-"
"Mistakes?" Taehyung cut her off, looking up, eyes glistening with unspoken pain. "Mom, please..." his voice broke slightly. "Why are we even talking about him? Haven't we survived without him? Haven't we found peace?"
There was a long silence. Taehyung's voice cracked again, weaker this time. "He destroyed everything... you, noona... me. You know what I went through because of him. Don't-please, don't bring him back into our lives. I'm begging you..."
And with that, he stood up, pushing the chair back quietly, and walked to his room without another word.
His mother's eyes welled with tears, a quiet sob escaping her lips. She clutched the edge of the table like it could anchor her pain.
"Why are you doing this again, Mom?" his sister said, voice sharp with emotion. "You know how much Tae gave up for us. You know he buried his own dreams just to fix what that man broke. Why are you choosing him now?"
"I'm not choosing him..." their mother whispered through her tears. "He was crying. He said he's sorry. He wants to see Taehyung-just once."
His noona scoffed bitterly. "He cried? And you believed that? When will you finally understand that he only cries when he needs something?"
No reply came. Just silence.
Meanwhile, in his room, Taehyung sat on the edge of his bed. He hadn't changed out of his office clothes-too tired to move, too numb to care. He slowly laid down, eyes fixated on the ceiling above, where shadows danced softly in the dim light. One memory after another crashed into him-his father's voice yelling, broken things, locked doors, his mother's bruised arms, his sister crying silently in the corner. His heart ached like it was being squeezed from the inside.
He turned to his side to escape the memories, only for his eyes to fall on the small silver keychain resting quietly on the side table. He reached for it, his fingers brushing over the small bear. He held it in his palm, staring at it.
"This is yours, Mr. Stranger..." he murmured, voice barely a whisper. "I should return it... but I don't even know where you are."
A beat passed. Then a small, wistful smile tugged at his lips.
"...So, can I keep it?"
He didn't realize when the weight of the day finally caught up with him, when his eyes slowly closed and sleep took him away-keychain still clutched in his hand, heart still echoing with questions that had no answers.
Jungkook stepped into the mansion with slow, heavy feet. The echo of his shoes against the marble was the only sound in the wide, hollow space. Home-it felt more like a well-decorated cage tonight. No warmth. No comfort. Just walls, silence, and too many memories watching him from every corner.
Without bothering to turn on the lights in the hallway, he walked straight to the kitchen. Opened the fridge. Grabbed a chilled bottle of water and leaned against the counter. He unscrewed the cap and took a long sip, eyes unfocused. His body was tired-aching from all the running, the tension-but the real fatigue pulsed deeper, somewhere inside where no sleep could reach.
Just then, the soft sound of footsteps approached.
"Mr. Jeon, do you need anything to eat?" one of the maids asked gently, her voice careful, polite.
He shook his head. "No, thank you."
He turned to leave, intent on escaping to the only place he could close the world out, but her voice stopped him again.
"Your grandfather... he said he'd like to see you when you return."
Jungkook closed his eyes for a brief second. Of course. He should've known. No day ended without expectations. Without duty. Without reminders that his life was never fully his.
He nodded wordlessly and made his way toward the study. The hallway was dim, lit only by warm sconces along the walls, the shadows following his every step. When he reached the door, he knocked once, quietly, before pushing it open.
His grandfather sat in his usual chair, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, book in hand, a scene that never seemed to change. As Jungkook walked in, the old man looked up, removed his glasses, and closed the book with deliberate calm.
"Ah, come in, Jungkook," he said. "Sit."
Jungkook obeyed, sinking onto the couch beside him, the leather cool against his back.
His grandfather studied him, eyes narrowing with a familiarity that made Jungkook feel exposed.
"How was your day?" he asked. "Did you... enjoy it?"
Jungkook almost laughed. Enjoy. A cruel word today. Enjoy watching his own walls crack. Enjoy being reminded that emotions don't follow rules.
"It was okay," he replied, voice flat.
The old man didn't speak right away. Instead, he simply stared at him for a moment longer-long enough to unsettle him-before finally saying, "I heard about the new secretary. You chose him yourself?"
Jungkook stiffened slightly. Of course he knew. His grandfather always knew. There was never a single corner in the company, or in Jungkook's life, that didn't somehow loop back to this man.
"Yes," he said simply. "I found him hardworking."
His grandfather raised an eyebrow. "Is that the only reason?"
Jungkook met his gaze, unflinching. "What other reason should there be to hire an employee?"
For a long second, neither of them blinked. Then his grandfather broke the moment, stood up, and slowly made his way toward him. He placed a firm hand on Jungkook's shoulder-not unkind, but heavy.
"Rest, Jungkook," he said. "You carry a legacy now. And legacies... are heavier than they look."
Without waiting for a reply, the old man walked out, his steps echoing until they faded into the hall.
Jungkook sat still, eyes fixed on the floor. His hands rested on his lap, but his mind... it wasn't here. It hadn't been all day. It was still caught between a stranger's eyes and a memory he couldn't name. It was still trying to make sense of the storm brewing inside him.
And in that quiet study, with only the ticking clock for company, Jungkook realized-he didn't know what tomorrow would bring. Or what he'd do when it came.
Chapter 5: Know my soul
Chapter Text
Do you know my soul
I won't lie to you again
Do you know my soul
'Cause I need you to care
Oh no
Taehyung stirred awake, the early morning light gently brushing over his face. He felt something soft in his hand-the tiny bear keychain. His fingers clutched it unknowingly through the night, like it had guarded him from breaking. For a moment, he just stared at it, breathing quietly, the silence in the room louder than ever.
Last night played in his mind like a slow, dull film. The desperation. The helplessness. The way he had clung to emotions he wasn't ready to feel.
He exhaled sharply and sat up, brushing the hair from his face. The weight on his chest remained, unmoving. Pulling himself up from bed felt like dragging stone.
In the washroom, his reflection didn't lie. Same clothes. Same hollow expression. He peeled them off like dead skin and stepped under the shower, letting the water numb his thoughts.
Afterward, he stood in front of his modest closet. The formal shirt he owned hung sadly, a little faded and clearly worn too often. Still, it was better than nothing-but his eyes moved to a simpler white button-down shirt and black pants. The office attire that a secretary should have to wear.
He got dressed and walked downstairs, the familiar scent of toast and tea wrapping around him. His mother was at the stove, humming softly.
"Good morning," he greeted, voice still thick with sleep and emotion.
She turned and smiled. "Toast's ready. Sit, I'll make your tea."
He sat silently, eyes on the plate as she placed the toast in front of him, then sat down beside him with her own cup.
A few moments passed before he quietly said, "I'm sorry, Mom. For yesterday. I didn't mean to snap at you."
She reached out and touched his hand. "It's okay, Tae. I understand. You're doing so much... I just wish you didn't have to carry it all alone."
His throat tightened. "I don't have a choice."
After breakfast, he stepped into his sister's room. She was lying there, seemingly asleep.
He knelt beside her and brushed her hair back softly. "One day left," he whispered. "I'll make it work, Noona. Don't worry about anything."
She didn't move. He waited a second longer before standing and walking out.
Once the door closed, her eyes fluttered open. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks. I'm supposed to be his elder sister. But I can't even help him... I'm just lying here uselessly while he breaks himself for me.
At the office, Taehyung checked the clock. 8:30 AM. On time. He took a deep breath and walked toward the finance department, anxiety eating away at his gut.
Inside, he cleared his throat and gently asked, "I... wanted to ask about my salary. And if there's any way to get an advance or... something, just for this month."
The man behind the desk blinked. "Mr. Kim... you've only been here a day. Don't you think it's a little too soon to make such requests?"
Taehyung's cheeks flushed in shame. "Right. I understand. Sorry for bothering you."
He walked out slowly, shoulders heavy.
One day, and they already think I'm taking advantage. Of course they do.
People always had something to say about him. Back in school, in neighborhood, now here too. He had learned to carry shame like a second skin-but even second skins wear thin.
Back in his cabin, he sat in silence. Should I ask Jungkook? The thought made his chest clench. No. I can't. He'll think I'm pathetic. Desperate. And maybe I am... but no. I won't give him reason to look down on me.
His thoughts shattered when he heard footsteps-Jungkook stepping out of his office.
Taehyung stood up instinctively. "Good morning, sir."
Jungkook didn't look at him. "Carry the files to the meeting room."
Without a word, Taehyung followed, files in hand. His mind was elsewhere-on hospital bills, on his sister, on every unshed tear that burned behind his eyes.
Inside the meeting room, he zoned out. Everything was a blur until a hand tapped his shoulder.
"Mr. Kim... Boss has been calling you for over a minute."
Taehyung blinked. He looked up-and the entire room was silent. All eyes on him. Including Jungkook's. Cold. Sharp. Piercing.
He swallowed hard. His throat burned. He stood up quickly, stammering, "I-I'm sorry, sir, I-"
"Meeting's over," Jungkook cut him off sharply. "You all may leave."
Everyone started filing out. Everyone except Taehyung. He didn't move. Couldn't. His eyes were locked to the floor, the weight of his failure pressing down on him.
If he fires me now, I won't even be surprised.
Jungkook's gaze didn't falter. It was burning holes through him. And Taehyung couldn't take it anymore. He didn't know what gotten him may be he is now welled up from too many emotions right now. Or may be he thinks the person standing in front of him will listen to him, will bear him.
"I know, sir," he started, voice hoarse. "I'm not even in a place to say sorry. I've been fucking up from the very first day. If you fire me now, it's fair. I-"
"Mr. Kim. Language."
"Sorry, sir, I was just-" Taehyung did not look up further. He has no stamina in him now.
Jungkook shut his eyes for a brief second, exhaled through his nose, then opened them again. "Did you prepare files for the second meeting?"
Taehyung hesitated. "Yes, sir. Already prepared."
He waited. This is it. He'll tell me to pack up and leave.
But Jungkook simply turned toward the door and walked out without another word.
Taehyung stood frozen, chest tight. What does that mean? Is silence his answer? Is this how it ends?
Then, the door creaked open again. Jungkook leaned in slightly.
"Mr. Kim... planning to spend the rest of your life in that room?"
"Huh?"
"We'll be late for the next meeting. Are you coming or not?"
Taehyung blinked, processing the words. "Y-Yes, sir. Coming."
He rushed after him, still confused. Still broken. But still... there.
The company car hummed softly down the road as Taehyung drove, hands firm on the wheel. The city passed in muted motion through the tinted windows, but inside the vehicle, silence screamed louder than any traffic noise.
Jungkook sat beside him, expression unreadable, eyes fixed outside. The sharp lines of his jaw, the smooth elegance in the way he carried silence-it was all enough to make Taehyung feel like a clumsy extra in a drama where the lead refused to speak.
Taehyung cleared his throat softly, voice unsure. "Sir... about my job... I just wanted to ask. Will I be fired or not?"
Jungkook turned his head slowly, gaze calm, borderline cold. "Mr. Kim... you speak too much."
Tae's lips parted slightly, then shut. He nodded once and glued his eyes back to the road.
"You are Not fired," Jungkook added simply, like he was stating the weather.
Another nod from Taehyung. But the silence returned just as quickly as it left. Heavy. Sticky. Suffocating.
Taehyung gripped the steering wheel tighter. Why does he not say anything? I messed up since I joined. Does he also finds me pathetic. Pathetic for all these things. But is not it a good thing he didn't fired. Taehyung what you want then? Why you want him to show you anger. Is not it good?
May be I want him to show any reaction at least.
A soft scoff escaped Taehyung's lips-half amused, half annoyed. His mouth tugged into a subtle smirk he didn't even realize he wore. But someone else did.
"Mr. Kim," Jungkook said suddenly, voice sharp. "What's the inside joke? Care to share?"
Tae almost swerved. "Wha-no, it's nothing. Just... don't mind me." He laughed awkwardly, shoulders tense.
Jungkook turned his gaze back out the window.
Taehyung blinked.
He glanced at Jungkook, but the man's expression remained distant.
The meeting had ended at 12 p.m., and now they were heading to another location. The car rolled smoothly through the streets, the tension from the morning meeting still lingering in the air. Jungkook's silence was almost suffocating, and Taehyung found it hard to focus on the road as his mind raced with a thousand thoughts. He hadn't asked for this job. He hadn't asked for all the responsibilities, the mounting debts, the pressure of being the sole provider for his family. But here he was, doing everything he could to hold it together, trying not to let his emotions spill over.
Suddenly, Jungkook's calm voice broke through the haze of his thoughts.
"Mr Kim I'm hungry," he said matter-of-factly. "Let's eat somewhere."
Taehyung's eyebrows furrowed. "But, we need to-"
"I said, let's eat," Jungkook interrupted, his tone softer now. "Drive."
Taehyung sighed in resignation. The last thing he wanted was to make things awkward, but he also couldn't say no. He slipped into the driver's seat, starting the engine, and drove off in silence.
They arrived at a small, unassuming restaurant a few minutes later. The kind of place that wasn't fancy, but the food was good. As they stepped inside, Taehyung instinctively reached for the menu, but Jungkook stopped him with a gesture.
"You'll sit. I'll order," Jungkook said firmly.
Taehyung paused, but instead of protesting, he quietly walked to the table. He sat down, looking at Jungkook as the CEO made his way to the counter to place the order. What is this? Taehyung couldn't help but wonder. Are we... on a date? I will order. He mimicked. Trying to be cool. The thought made him shake his head, trying to push it out of his mind. No. Don't be ridiculous Tae.
Jungkook returned to the table and sat down, his eyes scanning the menu once more, as if double-checking his choices. The air between them was thick with unspoken thoughts.
Suddenly, Jungkook spoke, his voice unexpectedly soft. "So, Mr. Kim, tell me more about yourself."
Taehyung blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected this. "What?"
"About your family," Jungkook clarified, leaning back in his chair, his gaze steady.
Taehyung hesitated, then took a deep breath. "I have a mom and a sister," he began, "but they both don't work. I'm the sole provider."
Jungkook nodded. "You're a hard-working person, then."
"Maybe," Taehyung replied, taking a sip from his water, avoiding his gaze.
There was a pause, and Jungkook's voice broke the silence again. "Your father?"
The question felt like a weight on Taehyung's chest. He didn't want to discuss him. Not here, not now. But he couldn't escape the question. Why does he even care?
"He don't live with us ". Taehyung said, his voice quieter than before.
Jungkook's eyes softened for just a moment, but they remained calm. He didn't press for more details, perhaps sensing the shift in Taehyung's emotions.
"Thank you for sharing." Jungkook said finally, giving him space to breathe.
At that moment, the waiter brought their drinks, and to Taehyung's surprise, it was his favorite-a strawberry shake. He smiled instinctively as the cool drink hit his tongue, a small moment of comfort in a whirlwind of emotions.
Before he could take another sip, Taehyung turned the conversation back toward Jungkook. "What about you? Your family? I mean you are CEO so the old CEO must be your father. "
Jungkook's expression grew distant, his eyes dropping to the table for a moment before he answered. "My father and mother died when I was 18. Old CEO is my grandfather. "
Taehyung froze mid-sip. He hadn't expected that. Jungkook's calmness, the lack of emotion in his voice, made Taehyung's heart ache for him. Eighteen... Taehyung thought, to lose everything so young.
"I'm sorry for your loss," Taehyung muttered, his words sincere, though he wasn't sure if they would be enough to convey what he felt.
Jungkook didn't look up, his voice steady. "It's okay."
The waiter returned with their lunch, placing the dishes in front of them. A sizzling bowl of bibimbap and kimchi jjigae was placed in front of Jungkook, while a simpler dish of bulgogi was set before Taehyung.
As Taehyung took his first spoonful, the heat of the food caught him off guard. He coughed suddenly, the spiciness overwhelming his senses. Jungkook's eyes flashed with concern, and without a second thought, he grabbed a tissue and reached out toward him.
"Hey, you okay? What happened?" Jungkook asked, his voice now laced with urgency.
"It's... it's too spicy," Taehyung choked out, still trying to catch his breath.
Jungkook's gaze flickered between the two plates. He quickly swapped their meals, placing the spicier bibimbap in front of himself and his plate in front of Taehyung.
"This one is for you, it is less spicy." Jungkook said calmly, though there was an undercurrent of something Taehyung couldn't quite read.
Taehyung stared at the plate, his mind spinning. Does he know I can't eat spicy foods? But he shrugged it of and start eating.
Taehyung nodded slowly, though his heart was racing. He guessed it. Maybe. That's all. He couldn't possibly know... But the way Jungkook had switched their plates, the way he seemed so sure-it made Taehyung question his own thoughts. Could he really have known?
For a moment, the world around him blurred. He didn't know what to think anymore. Jungkook was far too composed, too mysterious. And Taehyung was getting lost in the complexities of his own emotions, trying to figure out how he felt, how he should feel.
As he finally took a bite of the bulgogi, the tenderness of the meat and the balance of flavors calmed him, even as his mind raced. The uncertainty lingered, but for now, the food-simple, comforting-was enough.
In the quiet grandeur of the Jeon mansion, the study remained cloaked in its usual air of discipline and history. Afternoon light filtered softly through tall windows, highlighting the dust particles that danced in the silence. Books stood tall on the shelves, polished wood gleamed, and time itself seemed to move a little slower here.
A knock disturbed the calm.
Knock. Knock.
“Enter,” came the composed voice from inside.
Mr. Baek, loyal and observant, stepped into the study with measured grace. He bowed slightly, then straightened.
“Sir.”
A slow nod acknowledged him.
“There’s been… a slight shift in young master Jeon’s routine today,” Mr. Baek began carefully.
The man behind the desk paused, waiting without interrupting.
“He attended the scheduled meetings this morning as usual, but after that, instead of returning to the office or heading home… he went out to eat.”
“Out to eat?”
“Yes, sir. A small restaurant. He wasn’t alone either—his secretary accompanied him.”
A subtle beat of silence passed before Mr. Baek continued.
“And… he’s stopped taking the driver with him altogether, sir.”
Nothing was said immediately. The old man merely turned a page in the book resting before him. No change in expression.
"Who is driving with him then? "
"His secretary"
There is no comment.
“Should I proceed with gathering background details on the secretary?” Mr. Baek asked gently.
The answer came quietly. “Yes.”
Mr. Baek bowed once more. “Understood, sir.”
With that, he took his leave, and the door clicked softly behind him.
Back in the study, all was quiet again. The clock ticked steadily in the corner. The man’s gaze remained fixed on the open book—but his thoughts had clearly shifted elsewhere.
Something had changed. And it hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Chapter 6: Easy on me
Chapter Text
I had good intentions
And the highest hopes
But I know right now
It probably doesn't even show
Go easy on me, baby.
A week had quietly slipped by since Kim Taehyung joined JT Corp. The rhythm of his days had settled into a professional routine, and his once unpredictable CEO had turned completely reserved. A driver accompanied them now, and conversations had become minimal-almost mechanical.
Something had changed, and though Taehyung couldn't pinpoint what, the shift was obvious.
Wasn't this supposed to be good? Professionalism meant boundaries, right? Then why did it leave an odd emptiness in him?
The company had introduced a new health policy this month. Surprisingly, it included a 5% salary deduction in exchange for health support benefits-an initiative that allowed employees to take medical advances. Thanks to this, his sister's surgical fees had been submitted without delay. That alone made Taehyung silently grateful.
During lunch breaks, he'd made a few acquaintances-mostly as a way to hush his racing thoughts. His sister's surgery was scheduled for next month, and anxiety coiled in his chest like a silent storm. She needed to walk again. She needed to dream. And he... he needed her to be okay.
The company buzzed with activity. JT Corp was preparing a grand celebration in one of its luxury hotels to formally introduce their newly appointed CEO. Departments were reshuffled for party duties. Taehyung, being the CEO's secretary, naturally held a key role.
He needed everything to be perfect-for the same CEO who now barely looked at him.
Maybe it was better this way. At least he wasn't a punching bag like he was in his old jobs.
Still... the sudden coldness stung.
Good for me. Professional. Right. Two-teeth bunny being professional, he muttered internally, lips twitching into a dry smirk. Why am I being so feisty lately?
"Mr. Kim," a voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Hm?"
"Food needs to be exceptional. We have big names attending," a senior colleague reminded him.
"Yes, don't worry. I've already given detailed instructions to the chefs."
"And the wine-expensive, top-shelf."
"Of course."
The colleague paused, eyeing him. "And Mr. Kim, you need to report all the arrangements to the CEO. He should be in the loop."
Taehyung inwardly sighed. "Alright, I'll do that."
He turned to leave, whispering under his breath, What is there to inform him? He'll just say, 'Okay, Mr. Kim. Thank you, Mr. Kim. You may go, Mr. Kim. Mr. Kim, my foot...' Then he blinked and muttered, "Wait. When did I start talking like this? I used to be the quiet kid. This is all that CEO's fault." He chuckled to himself. "Taehyung, you are silly."
Shaking his head, he walked toward the CEO's office when a familiar voice called out-
"Kim Taehyung??"
He froze, turning instinctively. A figure approached, eyes widening before engulfing him in a hug.
His lips curled into a genuine smile. "Jimin."
"You remember me!"
"Of course I remember you! Wow, you look so different!"
"It's been years!"
Taehyung nodded softly. "Yeah... it has."
"What are you doing here?"
"I work here now. You?"
"Same! I've been here for a year."
"Really? That's great."
"What department?"
"I'm... the CEO's secretary."
Jimin's eyes widened in disbelief. "No way! The CEO? You're kidding, right?"
Taehyung laughed. "Nope."
"How are you surviving? I've heard he's super aloof. I haven't even seen him yet."
Taehyung tilted his head. "Aloof? Maybe. He's just... very professional."
Jimin leaned closer. "People here say a lot of salty things about him."
"Rumors are always salty," Taehyung chuckled. "Anyway, I gotta go report. Let's catch up later?"
"For sure. I really missed you, Taehyung."
With a soft, almost sad smile, Taehyung replied, "I missed you too."
With a quick wave, they parted. Taehyung straightened himself and knocked on the CEO's office door.
"Come in," came Jungkook's low voice.
He stepped in and reported the full list of preparations for the party.
Jungkook didn't look up-just nodded once, pen gliding over paperwork.
Taehyung lingered a moment, unsure why. Maybe... he just missed the version of Jungkook from that first day. The version who hadn't yet locked him out.
Suddenly, Jungkook stopped writing and looked up. Their eyes met. Calm. Cold. Detached.
"What's wrong?"
"Uhm... Sir, about your suit-"
Really, Taehyung? Of all things, the suit?
Without lifting his gaze again, Jungkook replied, voice laced with chill, "Book a suit from Fatheré Designs. Midnight black. I trust you'll handle it."
"Hm," Taehyung hummed quietly and turned to leave.
Behind him, Jungkook leaned back in his chair, staring at the door for a moment before sighing-quiet and tired.
Taehyung returned to his cabin and booked a custom suit for Jungkook, selecting the best fabrics and cuts. He resumed work, scanning decoration designs when a sudden tap on his desk startled him.
He looked up to see a middle-aged man with sharp eyes and a frown.
"Sir... How can I help you?"
"Where's Jungkook? Is he in his office?"
"Sir, do you have an appointment?"
The man's brows twitched. "Why the hell would I need an appointment to meet the kid?"
"Sir... Mr. Jeon must be busy. You can't go in like that-"
The man grabbed his collar roughly.
"You piece of garbage! A mere secretary is going to tell me what I can and can't do now? Do you even know who I am?"
Taehyung's breath caught in his throat. "Sir, let me just ask Mr. Jeon..."
But the man shoved him back. Taehyung stumbled, his hand hitting the edge of his desk-an open paper clipper caused a cut on his palm and ring finger. He hissed in pain.
Ignoring him, the man stomped toward Jungkook's office.
Taehyung scrambled to stop him. "Sir, you can't enter like this!"
But the man had already pushed open the door.
"Oh, my kid! How are you?" the man boomed cheerfully.
Jungkook looked up, expression unreadable.
"I'm fine, Uncle."
Taehyung's blood ran cold. Uncle? Shit.
The man-Soo Hyun-strode in and hugged Jungkook. The CEO didn't respond much. His face remained stoic.
Soo Hyun turned toward Taehyung with an unimpressed gaze.
"Jungkook, you should really hire experienced people. This kid was just sitting around and didn't even let me in."
Jungkook glanced at Taehyung. Said nothing.
Taehyung bowed. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know you were family."
Soo Hyun's eyes dragged up and down his frame like he was filth on polished marble. Taehyung bit the inside of his cheek.
"Excuse me, sir," he said softly and exited the office.
Rich people behavior, he thought bitterly. His hand stung. He glanced down-blood.
Bandage. I need a bandage.
But I need to work as well. He got a tissue to clean a wound and then he got back to work. He needs to decide the designs by today for party arrangement.
He buried himself in design files, trying to breathe. His peace was short-lived.
The intercom buzzed.
"Mr. Kim, bring two coffees to my office.
No tone. Just command.
The call cut before he could reply.
He sighed, made two coffees, and headed to Jungkook's office. Knocking softly, he entered.
Silence.
Mr. Soo Hyun didn't look pleased. Taehyung placed one coffee in front of him, then the other in front of Jungkook.
Jungkook looked at the cup in his hands then lifted his eyes toward Taehyung, gaze sharp and lingering.
Taehyung shifted uncomfortably. What now? Did I mess this up too?
Suddenly, Soo Hyun grumbled, "What the hell is this?"
Taehyung turned. "Sir?"
"This coffee tastes horrible," he spat. "What the hell did you put in this?!"
Taehyung blinked. "Sir, it's regular coffee-same brand, same method. Let me remake it-"
He reached for the cup, but it slipped, spilling hot liquid on Soo Hyun's polished shoes.
Taehyung's breath hitched. Oh no.
"You little-!" Soo Hyun shot up and grabbed his collar again. "You piece of shit, do you think-"
Before he could finish, Jungkook's voice sliced through the room.
He was standing now, hand gripping Soo Hyun's wrist, eyes like steel.
"Let go."
The older man paused, then released Taehyung's collar.
Jungkook's eyes flicked to him. "Mr. Kim, you may leave."
"I... Mr. Jeon, I'm so-"
"I said," Jungkook's voice dropped, sharp and deep, "You may leave."
Taehyung bowed low and turned quickly, his face hot with humiliation.
In his cabin, he dropped into his chair, burying his face in his hands.
What am I doing? Every day... a new mess.
The door burst open. Soo Hyun stormed out, expression thunderous. He glared at Taehyung but said nothing before disappearing down the hall.
Taehyung's lungs tightened. At least he didn't punch me again.
Still... he couldn't help but worry.
What will Jungkook think of me now?
"Taehyung, why are you messing up after every second?" he mumbled under his breath, frustration clouding his thoughts. "But it wasn't totally my fault, right?" he tried convincing himself. The coffee was good. And his uncle-Jungkook's uncle-was a real bastard.
He barely had time to breathe when the intercom buzzed sharply.
"Mr. Kim, in my office. Now."
The chill that ran down Taehyung's spine was immediate. Jungkook's voice was cold. Too cold.
Is he angry? What should I say in my defense?
Sorry?
But he'll probably be tired of hearing that word from me by now.
With a pounding heart, Taehyung stood up and walked toward Jungkook's office. He knocked once and entered.
Jungkook was standing near the tall window, his back facing Taehyung. The office was tense-silent enough to hear the hum of the AC. Taehyung's footsteps were slow, cautious, his heart thudding like a drum.
After a minute of unbearable silence, Taehyung finally spoke in a steady but low voice.
"Mr. Jeon, you asked for me?"
No response.
Taehyung's nerves twitched.
"Sir?" he tried again, more hesitant this time.
Finally, Jungkook turned. His eyes locked with Taehyung's, calm yet unreadable. His gaze shifted downward.
Taehyung followed his line of sight, realizing Jungkook was staring at his hands. Instinctively, he moved them behind his back.
Jungkook's voice came low, almost a whisper.
"What happened to your hand?"
Taehyung blinked, unsure. He brought his hand forward and glanced at the small injury on his palm, offering a faint smile.
"It's nothing, just a paper clip. Got a small cut."
But Jungkook took a step forward. Then another. Taehyung, flustered, took one back unconsciously.
Now Jungkook stood close, hand extended.
"Your hand," he repeated, waiting.
Taehyung hesitated, his mind trying to catch up. Slowly, he placed his hand over Jungkook's-but barely. Jungkook smirked slightly and gripped it, gently pulling it forward. Taehyung jolted slightly at the touch, his breath catching in his throat.
His ears turned red. His face flushed. He wasn't blinking-just staring at Jungkook, frozen in place.
Jungkook silently unwrapped the makeshift tissue Taehyung had placed earlier. His brows furrowed slightly.
"It's deep," he said softly, voice low yet firm.
"It's okay, Mr. Jeon. I'll treat it when I get home." Taehyung tried pulling away, but Jungkook held on.
"It'll leave a scar if not treated properly."
Without waiting for permission, Jungkook guided him toward the sofa and motioned for him to sit. Then he turned and went to his desk, retrieving a small first-aid kit from the drawer.
Taehyung sat stiffly, still in a daze.
What is going on? Is this some kind of... drama scene?
Jungkook returned, placed the kit on the table, then kneeled down in front of him.
Taehyung instantly panicked.
"Mr. Jeon, what are you doing?"
"I'm treating your wound" Jungkook replied calmly, already applying ointment to the cut.
"But you're kneeling-"
"View from here is better for this."
Taehyung gulped. What the hell did that mean?
"Sit still. I don't have all day."
Taehyung obeyed, flustered. He watched silently as Jungkook carefully applied ointment and wrapped the palm in a neat bandage. Then, Jungkook took a smaller strip and gently wrapped it around his ring finger.
Taehyung couldn't stop staring. He didn't even realize he hadn't blinked until Jungkook muttered without looking up:
"Blink, or your eyes will hurt."
Taehyung flushed again and looked away, heart doing somersaults.
Jungkook finished, closed the kit, and stood up.
Taehyung stood too.
"Thank you, Mr. Jeon." He bowed slightly, his voice soft with sincerity.
"You worked hard today, Mr. Kim," Jungkook replied, still not facing him. "Go home and rest."
Taehyung smiled lightly and bowed again.
"Goodbye, Mr. Jeon."
He left the office with a strange warmth blooming in his chest.
Inside the room, Jungkook stared at the closed door. His gaze dropped to his own hands. He clenched them slowly.
This shouldn't be happening.
Don't lose control, Jungkook. Not now.
Back at his desk, Taehyung packed his things, still smiling. He glanced at the freshly bandaged hand and gently caressed his ring finger, a foolish grin spreading across his face. Then he shrugged the feelings.
He took a deep breath and walked out of the building.
Any update?" Jungkook's voice was low, dangerous.
"Mr. Jeon, he's still saying the same things," the man on the call replied. "Not a word more."
"How much time is left on his sentence?"
"Less than a month."
Jungkook's jaw tightened.
"I need to meet him. Arrange it-quietly. No one should know."
"But sir, it could be dangerous-"
"You've all failed to get the truth from him. I won't wait any longer. He'll be out in less than a month, and we've done nothing."
A pause.
"Understood, Mr. Jeon. I'll make the arrangements."
Jungkook ended the call and stared at the wall, breath heavy.
For my parents... For justice.
He opened a locked drawer in his desk, revealing a box. A family photo he gripped it then he looked at the small photo in the box. Something flicker in his eyes then he closed the box.
This is only the beginning for him.
And Taehyung...
Taehyung had no idea what he was about to be caught up in.
Chapter 7: Hate me
Chapter Text
It's a thin line between
all this love and hate (okay)
And if you switch sides,
you're gon' have to claim your place (okay)
The grandeur of the banquet hall shimmered beneath the warm glow of chandeliers, each crystal glinting like fragments of secrets yet to be unraveled. JT Corp's grand celebration had commenced-a night stitched together with fine linen, sparkling champagne, and veiled intentions. The company's future would be marked tonight, not only with the formal appointment of Jungkook as CEO, but also with the silent turning of fates.
Taehyung stood near the main entrance, clipboard in hand, eyes scanning the arrival list while instructing the waitstaff and coordinating lighting cues through his earpiece. Dressed in a crisp black suit that hugged his frame just right, he didn't just blend in-he commanded attention with calm precision.
"CEO's guests will arrive separately," he reminded one of the assistants. "Make sure the security knows their faces."
He had memorized every detail of this night-the guest list, the speech transitions, the music timings. And yet, deep inside, a faint tremor rested beneath his composed exterior. Perhaps it was the weight of the event. Or perhaps, it was him.
As the glass doors swept open with the gust of spring night air, Yoongi entered. His presence was effortlessly magnetic-sleek black suit, silver rings on his fingers, and an aura of experience. Yoongi had grown up in the US, returning to South Korea just two years ago to handle his booming tech firm. Though he looked young, there was something older in his eyes-like he'd seen too much, felt too little, and now stood on the periphery of other people's stories.
"Pleasure to be here," Yoongi nodded, eyes quickly scanning the opulence. "Classic JT taste."
Following not long after came Mingyu-broad-shouldered, charismatic, and carrying the comfortable ease of someone who knew Jungkook before the suits and boardrooms. He handed his coat to an usher, looking around curiously.
Taehyung glanced up as the two men arrived, noting their arrival on the list. But before he could greet them, a familiar voice halted him mid-step.
"Taehyung?"
Turning around, his lips tugged into a small smile. "Jimin."
They embraced lightly, warmth blooming through Taehyung's chest. Jimin looked slightly breathless, his cheeks tinged with excitement.
"Wow, this is incredible," Jimin looked around. "You're running the show?"
"Just trying to make sure no one catches fire," Taehyung teased.
Laughter slipped between them, but their moment was interrupted by the quiet hush that fell across the hall. A staff member whispered into Taehyung's earpiece.
"He's here."
The grand double doors opened again-and Jungkook walked inin.
He was dressed in a tailored midnight black suit that made silence feel like reverence. His dark hair was combed back, expression cold and unreadable. The CEO mask fit him perfectly, though Taehyung could see-just barely-that it was forged from something far older than just power. Their eyes met across the room.
And for a second, time held its breath.
Something clutched in Taehyung's chest. Jungkook didn't flinch, but his gaze lingered-steady, burning, but distant. Like a memory pressed against glass.Then their moment disturbed by another figure entering, Chairman of JT corp along with Soo hyun. Man is still in his egoistic phase.
Taehyung just clenched his fist by seeing him. He doesn't just fit to the taste.
The first speech of the night came from the towering figure of Jungkook's grandfather-Chairman Jeon, a man who looked as regal as he was unpredictable.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice rough like gravel and honey. "Tonight marks a new era. My grandson, Jeon Jungkook, will officially be stepping into the role of CEO. A position he's been molded for-shaped like a pawn moved across decades of strategy, but always with a vision. My vision."
Laughter stirred across the hall, but it didn't quite reach Jungkook's face.
"I believe it is time he lives as a man, not a machine. Hence," the old man smiled, "I gift him a new apartment. Privacy suits him. After all, he's of the age where marriage might soon be expected."
There was a chuckle among guests.Soo Hyun looks more happy then ever in the Hall But something shifted in the air. Jungkook's jaw tensed.
Taehyung's fingers froze around the clipboard.He wasn't sure why the words made his chest tighten. He looked at Jungkook who is unreadable as usual.
Jungkook stepped up next, cold and unreadable in a perfectly tailored black suit, eyes sharp as obsidian. As he approached the podium, his gaze briefly - but unmistakably - locked with Taehyung's. A muscle in his jaw twitched. The eye contact lingered longer than it should have.Jungkook began.
"I thank my grandfather for his support. I accept this role not for tradition, but for innovation. JT Corp's legacy will continue-adapted for the world we now live in."
Jimin, standing beside Taehyung, leaned in. "He looks familiar."
Taehyung blinked. "He's a CEO, Jimin. Probably saw him on the news."
"No," Jimin frowned. "Somewhere else... something more personal....."
Their moment was interrupted by a small crisis at the bar. Taehyung rushed over to sort it - directing staff, coordinating VIP requests, smoothing over complaints. His feet ached. His mind buzzed. Still, he held it all together.
As the speeches ended, champagne glasses clinked and music slowly rose in the background. People mingled. Yoongi was speaking to a few foreign investors in a quiet corner. Mingyu laughed with another circle of guests.
Taehyung, ever the vigilant secretary, made his rounds-ensuring hors d'oeuvres were fresh, the drinks flowed, and the schedule remained intact.
Then he noticed Jungkook speaking with a few foreign delegates.
Taehyung moved closer to quietly ask, "Do you need anything, sir?"
Jungkook didn't look at him immediately. "Everything's in place?"
"Yes, sir."
His eyes finally met Taehyung's. "You did well.You can now enjoy your time.''
It should have been a compliment. But the way he said it-flat, almost reluctant-made it feel like a command to keep distance.
"Thank you," Taehyung said quietly. "That's what I'm here for."
"Is it?" Jungkook asked, voice soft, but sharp enough to draw blood.
Before Taehyung could respond, someone called him over. He bowed slightly and left.
Minutes later, Mingyu approached Jungkook near the bar.
"Sheesh. You really buried it, huh?"
Jungkook gave a subtle glance, cold and warning. "Don't."
Mingyu smirked. "Just asking, man. Is that him?"
Jungkook didn't respond.
"I mean... what are the odds?" Mingyu said, casually sipping from his glass. "He's here. Right under your nose."
"It's nothing now," Jungkook replied, eyes on his drink. "That was the past."
"Does he know?"
Jungkook's eyes flicked to where Taehyung stood across the room, laughing lightly with Jimin.
"He's still stubborn," Jungkook muttered.
Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. "So are you."
The music swelled. People danced. Laughter echoed. But beneath it all, there was a pulse of something unsaid-beating between glances, threading through memories neither could shake.
Taehyung allowed himself a moment by the tall windows of the grand ballroom, the city lights glittering like distant promises behind the glass. The atmosphere buzzed with elegance-fine suits, soft jazz, champagne flutes clinking like soft chimes. He had done it. The arrangements were seamless. The guests were smiling, and Jungkook hadn't said a word-good or bad-which, from him, was almost praise.
His lips curved faintly. Just a small breath of satisfaction. He deserved that much.He looks at his bandaged hand that he didn't change it after Jungkook put ointment on it. He smiled on it. And then sighed.
Making his way toward the bar for a glass of water-maybe something fizzy-he paused to observe the scene, shoulders finally easing after hours of tension. The music, the ambiance, the scent of rich cologne and peonies-it all wrapped around him like a soft, temporary escape.
Then a voice slid in like chilled steel against warm skin.
"You look a little too comfortable for someone in your position."
Taehyung turned, polite smile at the ready.
An older man stood beside him, dressed in a tailored navy suit, cane in one hand more for style than support. Silver hair, sharp gaze-he didn't need introduction.
"Chairman Jeon," Taehyung bowed respectfully, heart leaping in his chest. "It's an honor, sir."
Chairman didn't smile. He sipped from a cut-glass tumbler and tilted his head.
"You are?"
"Kim _ kim Taehyung. I work directly under the CEO. I'm his executive assistant."
The Chairman narrowed his eyes slightly, not in recognition-but in evaluation.
"You don't look temporary," he said.
"I'm not, sir," Taehyung replied, keeping his voice level.
"Mm," the Chairman mused. "Pretty face. Mannered tongue. I wonder how long that softness will last in this kind of world."
Taehyung stiffened slightly. "I may be soft, sir, but I do my job with sincerity."
Chairman gave a half-smirk, amused.
Just then, another voice cut in.
"He always does like to charm people."
Taehyung turned-and nearly flinched.
Jungkook stood behind him, eyes unreadable, the coldness in his tone curling beneath the words like smoke.
"I told you to enjoy the party," Jungkook said, voice even. "Not... mingle."
The way he said it-mingle-coated the word in something else. Something sharp.
Taehyung blinked, startled, then confused. "I wasn't-I just came to get a drink."
Jungkook's lips barely moved. "Looks like you were enjoying the conversation more than the drink."
Chairman chuckled, his gaze shifting between the two like he'd caught onto something. "Keep him in line then. Don't let the stray dogs think they're guests at the table."
Taehyung's throat tightened. He bowed slightly again, a little lower this time, hiding the heat that rushed to his cheeks-not from shyness, but sheer embarrassment.
"I'll leave you to it, sir," he said softly, glancing at Jungkook-who offered no reply, just a blink of his cold eyes.
Taehyung turned and walked away slowly, pulse pounding in his ears. Something sour stirred in his chest. He had done nothing wrong. So why did it feel like he'd been caught?
He didn't notice how Jungkook's gaze lingered on him long after he left-or how the Chairman raised an eyebrow toward his grandson, lips curling just slightly.
"Atleast he knows how to bow" Chairman chuckled, patted his shoulders and left. Jungkook stands there, jaw tightening and his nails digging his palms.
Jimin found him again by the bar, hands shaking slightly as he accepted a glass of something sharp and burning.
He ask"What happened?"
"Nothing," Taehyung murmured. "Just tired."
"You're drinking," Jimin noted, eyeing the glass in Taehyung's hand.
"Party is almost over," Taehyung shrugged. "One drink won't hurt."
Jimin laughed. "You are already drunk man."
"Good," Taehyung said, tipping the glass back. "Let me have tonight."
Taehyung muttered, eyes distant. "I'll just report to the CEO and head out."
"Taehyung-wait-"
But he was already walking away, steps slightly uneven.
He left the ballroom not long after, his footsteps echoing against the empty corridor like accusations.
At Jungkook's hotel suite, he stared at the gleaming doorplate for too long.
Jeon Jungkook, CEO.
He knocked lightly. No answer.
Taehyung opened it. The room was untouched, the scent of clean wood and bergamot-heavy cologne still lingering.
He sat down on couch. Waited.
Sleep crept up slowly, the alcohol catching up to the exhaustion. He let his head fall back against the couch, the ceiling spinning slightly.
And then...
The door clicked.
Jungkook walked in, stopping short at the sight of Taehyung - slouched on the couch, flushed cheeks, lips parted in sleep. His shirt slightly rumpled. The softest version of him Jungkook had ever seen.
For a long moment, Jungkook just stood there, watching.
Then Taehyung stirred.
"Mr. Jeon?" he mumbled, blinking blearily.
Jungkook approached cautiously,hands in pants pockets. "You're drunk."
"I'm not," Taehyung said, though he swayed slightly as he stood. "I came to say... goodnight."
"You shouldn't be here like this."
Taehyung looked up at him. Eyes glassy, voice cracking around the edges.
"You let them talk about me like that.First your uncle and then your grandfather"
Jungkook froze.
Taehyung stepped forward, not close enough to touch, but enough to challenge.
"Do you hate me?" he whispered.
Silence.
"Do I disgust you?" Taehyung's voice cracked. "Or is it just easier to break what already bends?"
His eyes were wet now, barely blinking. "Say it Mr. Jeon. Say I'm a mistake you regret hiring."
Jungkook's throat moved, but no words came.
"Why do you keep looking at me like you remember something and then act like I'm invisible?"
Still silence.
Taehyung laughed bitterly. "Right. You're the heir. I'm the decoration."
He stepped back, collapsing onto the couch again. A soft thud.
"I didn't even drink that much," he murmured. "I just... wanted to feel like someone." He then looked at his bandage hand. Then he said " You are confusing me, Mr. Jeon".
Jungkook moved slowly then - carefully removing his blazer and draping it over Taehyung's shoulders. The action was too gentle for the man who had spat coldness an hour ago.
Taehyung looked up, eyes glassy. "Why are you always quiet when it matters?"
Jungkook knelt beside him, gaze unreadable.
Then - so softly Taehyung almost didn't register it - he said,
"You make too much noise in my head."
Taehyung blinked. "What?"
But Jungkook stood up before he could repeat it. He turned away, standing at the window, arms crossed tight over his chest.
"I'm not good with noise," he said after a long pause.
Taehyung watched his silhouette, the city lights outlining his frame. He stood up, move towards Jungkook.
"Mr jeon," Taehyung whispered, "Am I really that easy to dismiss?"
Silence.
A beat passed.
Then, without warning, Taehyung leaned into Jungkook's shoulder, his body heavy with sleep and wine. Then Jungkook heard soft snores.
Jungkook let out a sigh and gently guided him down, laying him on the bed, Caressed his bandage hand. He pulled the blanket over him, brushing the hair from his forehead once more.
He stepped back, pulled out his phone.
"Cancel the driver. I will stay here tonight" he said to the concierge. "Make sure no one disturbs me in my room. "
He stood at the edge of the room, looking down at Taehyung with a thousand unsaid things in his eyes.
Chapter 8: Closer to you
Chapter Text
Take you like my last breath
Took me that's the first step
Closer with the silk dress
Feeling your warm embrace
Devil always tempting
But who gon' end the sentence?
The soft rustle of curtains stirred in the morning breeze slipping through the slightly cracked window. Warm sunlight painted faint golden lines across the luxurious room, illuminating crisp white sheets and marble floors that gleamed faintly in the glow. Taehyung's eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the unfamiliar brightness, his head still swimming in a foggy haze.
He lay there in silence, eyes tracing the elegant chandelier above and the faint pattern etched into the ceiling. It wasn't his home. It wasn't even anywhere he recognized right away.
Panic crept in.
Sitting up quickly, he winced as a sharp ache pulsed at his temples. He pressed a hand to his head, his mind fumbling through the shattered fragments of last night. The bar. The drinks. The blurry walk through. A hotel...?
His eyes darted across the room. It was spacious and polished-too pristine for any average hotel. One of the luxury suites. His gaze landed on a familiar logo on the notepad by the phone. Jungkook's room.
Taehyung's breath caught.
Was I with him? Did I see him?
His stomach twisted. Please tell me I didn't embarrass myself. Not again.
Reaching blindly for his phone on the side table, he saw the screen light up with a flurry of missed calls: "Mom (6)", "Jiminie (3)", and a few anxious texts.
With a low groan, he tossed back the blanket-and paused.
A glass of water and a small pack of painkillers sat neatly on the nightstand. Is it provided by hotel staff?-this looked intentional, placed with care.
Taehyung stared for a moment. His fingers curled around the tablet, hesitating.
"Was it... Jungkook?" he whispered to himself.
He scoffed softly, though it lacked conviction. "No way. If it was him, he would've acted all cold and thrown me out."
But the thought didn't sit right. At the corner of his heart, a quieter voice pushed through: But he's not that cruel. He wouldn't leave me like that. Would he?
Then another memory surfaced-darker, sharper.
He let his family talk about me. Like I was nothing. And he just stood there... said nothing.
Taehyung's throat tightened. He shoved the thought down violently, shaking it off as if it had no right to still sting. He whispered, '' you are his secretary nothing else.What are you even expecting?''
He tossed the painkiller into his mouth and washed it down with a sip of water. As he moved to get up, a weight on his shoulders stopped him mid-motion.
A blazer.
He blinked, lifting the fine fabric gently.
Midnight black. Sharp-cut. Familiar scent.
Jungkook's.
It rested over his shoulders perfectly-as if someone had draped it on him with quiet care. He didn't remember it. Not the gesture. Not the touch. But it was there.
His heart skipped, confusion churning in his chest. Why would he...? Did he really-?
Before he could fall deeper into the spiral, his phone buzzed again-his mother calling. He answered quickly.
"Hey, Mom... yeah, I'm okay. Sorry. I stayed in a hotel last night-don't worry, I'm heading home now."
There was a brief pause on the other end.
"Taehyung-ah," her voice softened, but carried a strange urgency, "I need to talk to you about something important."
He blinked, immediately alert. "Is everything okay?"
"It's... nothing bad. But we'll talk when you get here, alright?"
He exhaled slowly, nodding. "Okay. I'm coming."
They hung up, and he opened his messages to text Jimin:
Hey Jimin, I'm okay. I fell asleep last night, wasn't able to answer. Don't worry.
He slid the phone into his pocket and stood slowly. The blazer still clung to his shoulders. For a moment, he thought to take it off, but his fingers paused mid-reach.
He didn't.
Outside, the city was already buzzing with morning life. He stepped into the cool morning air, lips pressed into a thin line. Raising a hand, he hailed the nearest taxi.
As he climbed in and shut the door behind him, he gave one last glance back at the hotel, at the suite where silence and questions still lingered.
His fingers gently gripped the lapel of the blazer.
Why did he leave it on me... if he doesn't care?
But no answer came.
Only the soft hum of the engine as the taxi pulled away.
The scent of fried eggs and buttered toast welcomed Taehyung as he stepped into the house. The sun had barely risen, painting golden light across the kitchen floor where his mother stood flipping parathas with practiced ease. The soft clinking of cutlery and the occasional sizzle of oil filled the calm air.
"Good morning," he greeted gently, offering a faint smile.
His mother turned slightly, acknowledging him with warmth. "Breakfast is ready. Go freshen up and come quickly."
He nodded and walked past to the living room, where his Elder sister sat cross-legged on the rug, deeply focused on sketching something. She looked up briefly and grinned. "Morning"
"Morning," he replied, gently ruffling her hair before retreating to his room.
Once inside, he closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling deeply. One hour left until office. One hour until he would have to face Jungkook again. His thoughts spiraled, fragments of last night's events slipping through his mind like smoke. What did he even say? Why was Jungkook there? Why was he... so kind?
His gaze fell on the blazer. Jungkook's blazer. He picked it up with trembling hands, pressing the fabric between his fingers. It still smelled faintly like him-something woody and clean, tinged with comfort. Carefully, he hung it in the wardrobe like something precious, then grabbed his own office wear and stepped into the washroom.
After showering and getting dressed, he stepped back into the room, checking his phone. Just as he was about to leave, it buzzed.
Jimin:
Where are you, idiot? Not coming to office?
Taehyung answered quickly, putting the phone to his ear. "Hey Jimin."
"Where the hell are you? You do realize it's a working day?"
"I'm coming. Just need half an hour."
"Hurry up. Also... I need updates about yesterday," Jimin added with a teasing tone.
Taehyung paused. His voice came quieter. "Yeah. Sure. We'll talk at the office."
"Remember my department, idiot!"
Taehyung chuckled faintly. "Sure, boss."
The call ended. He grabbed his bag and headed downstairs. His mother had already set the table.
"Eat quickly. You'll be late," she said, placing a glass of juice beside his plate.
"I'll talk to you when I get home," he muttered, avoiding her eyes as he took hurried bites.
His mother watched him silently. As he rushed out the door, she sighed deeply.
From behind, his sister whispered, "Can't we just let him be, mom? He's clearly upset."
Her mother shook her head. "I know, but this time, I need to tell him."
Taehyung's steps echoed as he entered the building. His heart pounded relentlessly against his ribcage. He tried to steel himself, but anxiety gnawed at him like a parasite. As he reached his cabin, the manager approached.
"You're late," the manager informed him curtly. "Mr. Jeon is already in. He asked me to tell you to meet him when you arrive."
Taehyung nodded wordlessly, placing his things on the desk with trembling fingers. He inhaled slowly and walked down the hallway to Jungkook's office. The hallway felt longer than usual.
He knocked softly.
A pause. Then, Jungkook's calm voice: "Come in."
Taehyung entered. Jungkook was at his desk, focused on a document, eyes flicking across the pages. He didn't look up. Taehyung stood silently for a beat, unsure of how to breathe in the charged air.
"You asked for me, Mr. Jeon," he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jungkook looked up. His gaze met Taehyung's, sharp and unreadable. It made Taehyung's breath catch. He quickly averted his eyes, unable to withstand the intensity of that stare-it felt as if Jungkook was peeling back every layer of his soul.
"You're late, Mr. Kim," Jungkook said evenly, returning to his files.
Taehyung's mind raced. Did he not remember the hotel? The blazer? The drunken mess he had been?
"I... I overslept."
Without acknowledging the excuse, Jungkook gestured to a stack of documents. "These need proofreading. And those-" he motioned to another stack, "-are drafts for the site's design. Choose the best ones."
Taehyung stepped forward to take the files, but Jungkook's voice halted him again.
"You'll work from the couch today. These files will need my signature once finalized."
There was nothing casual in his tone-just cold professionalism.
Taehyung blinked in confusion, but nodded. "Alright."
He moved to the couch and began flipping through the first file, though his mind was barely able to focus.
Suddenly, the door opened.
Mingyu walked in with his usual confident stride, his gaze landing immediately on Taehyung before shifting to Jungkook. "Well, well," he smirked, "I see you've already got company."
"Good morning," Taehyung greeted politely, returning to his work.
Mingyu grinned. "Don't mind me. I just came to say hi."
He approached Jungkook, leaning on the desk. "I heard Soo Hyun uncle came by two days ago."
Taehyung froze, fingers tightening around the paper. The name was a wound that never quite healed.
"Hmm. Nothing special," Jungkook replied coolly.
"Oh come on," Mingyu said. "It was special. I didn't like it though."
Jungkook raised a brow at him but didn't reply.
The door opened again, and this time, a woman stepped inside with the elegance of someone born to be watched. Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor, the sway of her form poised and calculated. She wore a form-fitting black dress that shimmered slightly under the office lights, the fabric hugging her curves like it had been tailored just for her. Long, straight black hair flowed down her back like ink, and her features-sharp cheekbones, full lips, confident eyes-spoke of someone who knew exactly who she was.
Taehyung stood out of instinct, trying not to let his jaw go slack.
"Good morning," he said politely, his voice soft.
She gave a brief but graceful nod in return, offering a smile.
Then her eyes moved past him.
"Congratulations, Jungkook!" she said warmly, her tone playful and familiar.
Jungkook stood immediately, a smile blooming on his face-a smile Taehyung had never seen before. It wasn't the usual, restrained CEO smirk. This one was genuine. Bright. Effortless.
"Thanks, Yena," Jungkook responded, his voice lighter than usual.
"I'm sorry I didn't make it yesterday with Dad," she continued, stepping toward him without hesitation.
"It's okay," Jungkook said, already moving around the desk. "I got your gift."
"You liked it?"
"Of course."
They shared a side hug, the kind that lingered for a second too long. Her hand rested gently on his chest as she leaned in, and Jungkook's arm wrapped around her waist with easy familiarity. Their faces were close, their laughter blending together as if the world beyond their bubble didn't exist.
Taehyung's chest tightened. The scene before him played like a slow-motion heartbreak reel. He stared down at the document in front of him, the words swimming out of focus.
He wasn't supposed to care. But he did.
He swallowed hard and blinked fast, willing his vision to clear.
Just as he thought he'd composed himself, Mingyu's voice pierced through the room with brutal clarity.
"Yena, your father gave your proposal to Jungkook."
The world tilted.
Yena laughed, brushing her hair back with a flick. "I know," she said, smiling slyly at Jungkook. "And I didn't say no, did I?"
Taehyung felt his throat close up. Blood drained from his face. The gentle hum of the room turned into a muted roar, like he was underwater. His eyes snapped back to Jungkook, waiting-praying-for a denial, for a correction, for any flicker of protest.
But none came.
Jungkook simply chuckled under his breath and looked away, running a hand through his hair.
That was it.
A small sound escaped Taehyung's throat-too soft to be heard, but loud enough to shatter him inside. His hand reached for a glass of water in an attempt to anchor himself, but his fingers betrayed him. The glass slipped.
Crash.
The glass hit the floor and shattered, the sharp sound slicing through the air and silencing the room.
"I'm sorry," Taehyung whispered, already kneeling on the floor, scrambling to collect the shards. His fingers moved too fast, too clumsily-panic taking over reason.
"Mr. Kim," Jungkook called sharply.
But Taehyung didn't look up. His chest rose and fell in shallow, rapid breaths.
"Mr. Kim, stop. You'll cut your-"
"It won't," Taehyung said, his voice cracking. "It's nothing. I can clean it."
And then, just like that-his finger caught the edge of a shard, and a deep red line bloomed across his skin.
"Damn it," Jungkook hissed under his breath, already moving.
He knelt beside Taehyung and grabbed his hand.
"I told you to stop," he muttered.
But Taehyung flinched away, ripping his hand out of Jungkook's grasp. The pain from the cut was nothing compared to the sting in his heart.
"Please," he whispered, looking up at him with tear-bright eyes. "Don't do this."
Jungkook froze.
Taehyung's voice broke entirely. "I'll work outside."
He gathered the files with trembling hands, stood quickly, and left the office without waiting for a response-his presence vanishing like the last bit of air sucked out of a collapsing room.
The silence he left behind was heavy.
Mingyu exhaled sharply. "Damn. He looks so heartbroken. What happened to him?"
Jungkook said nothing, only staring at the door where Taehyung had disappeared.
Taehyung reached his cabin and dropped the files on the desk. He sat down and pulled tissue for his bleeding finger.
"Again," he muttered bitterly, chuckling dryly. "Same damn finger."
Then came the tears-slow, silent, unstoppable. He bent forward, holding his head in his hands.
He was spiraling.
These feelings... they aren't good.
They weren't meant to happen. Not here. Not with him.
He was falling. And there was no one to catch him.
We're not meant to blend in
Blended with all your friends
Push and pull to get closer, closer
Chapter 9: Bleeding Love
Chapter Text
They try to pull me away,
but they don't know the truth
My heart's crippled by the vein
that I keep on closing
You cut me open and I
Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love
Flashback:
The polished floor of the school hallway echoed under Jungkook's hurried footsteps. His backpack bounced against his shoulder as he dashed through the corridor, weaving past students milling about before class. His brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, as if he was racing time itself.
"Jungkook!" a familiar voice rang out from behind.
Jungkook turned his head for a second, spotting Mingyu jogging toward him with a baffled look. "Where are you going? Class starts in five minutes!"
Without slowing, Jungkook shouted over his shoulder, "It's urgent! Cover for me, please!"
Mingyu came to a halt, hands on his hips, and sighed loudly. "You're chasing that damn crush again, aren't you?"
But Jungkook was already rounding a corner, disappearing from view. Mingyu shook his head, muttering to himself, "This boy will never understand."
Jungkook's heart was pounding by the time he stopped in front of a wooden door labeled Art Club - Members Only. The plaque was slightly crooked, like it had been carelessly put up years ago and never adjusted. He bent over, catching his breath, a sheen of sweat on his brow. For a moment, he hesitated, his hand hovering in midair, before he finally knocked twice and pushed the door open.
The room inside was serene-almost sacred. Sunlight filtered in through large windows, casting golden hues on the wooden floors. Paintings lined the walls: some abstract, others hyper-realistic, all vibrant with emotion. The scent of acrylic paint and turpentine lingered in the air. Tables cluttered with brushes, palettes, and sketchbooks filled the room, and a few half-finished canvases rested on easels.
Jungkook stepped inside quietly, eyes searching. But before he could call out, a light tap on his shoulder made him turn.
A boy-perhaps older, but shorter-stood behind him, wearing a soft smile. His dyed silver hair framed his face, and his eyes held a calm kindness.
"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice gentle.
Jungkook blinked. "Uh... I-I'm Jungkook. I want to join the club."
"Oh!" The boy's face brightened. "Nice to meet you. I'm Jimin, a member here. Come, I'll get you the form."
As Jimin walked to a desk to retrieve the paperwork, Jungkook's gaze wandered around again, scanning the room with quiet anticipation.
"You're looking for someone?" Jimin asked without turning, his tone casual but observant.
Jungkook's eyes snapped back to him. "No. No, nothing like that."
He sat down and began to fill the form, but his pen paused halfway. Across the room, Jimin was stacking blank canvases against the wall, humming softly.
"Is the club president not here?" Jungkook asked suddenly. "Shouldn't he be the one handling this?"
Jimin stopped, then looked over his shoulder. "Oh, Taehyung? He's a bit busy these days. Actually... he's resigning. Some personal issues. So I'll be managing things from now on."
Jungkook's chair scraped backward as he stood up abruptly. "What?!"
Jimin stared at him, startled. "Uh... is something wrong?"
Realizing his reaction, Jungkook quickly shook his head. "No. I mean-sorry. Never mind. I just remembered... I have a class. I have to go."
Before Jimin could say anything, Jungkook was already halfway to the door.
"Hey! Your form!" Jimin called after him.
But Jungkook was gone.
Jimin looked down at the paper left behind on the desk. Only the class section was filled out. With a soft sigh, he mumbled, "What a strange boy."
Back in the classroom, Jungkook entered with his head low and lips set in a frown. The professor glanced at him sharply.
"You're late again, Jeon."
"Sorry," Jungkook muttered and walked quickly to his seat near Mingyu.
As he dropped into the chair, Mingyu leaned in with a smirk. "So... got rejected again, lover boy?"
"Shut up," Jungkook said flatly. "I'm already sad."
"What happened this time?" Mingyu asked, teasing still in his tone but with a hint of curiosity.
Jungkook looked down at his desk, voice softer. "He resigned from the club. Some issue, I don't know."
Mingyu's smirk faded a little. "Oh. Damn. That sucks. But hey, we'll come up with a new plan. Should we go to his house?"
Jungkook's head jerked up. "Are you mad? I can't even go near his class without dying of anxiety, and you want me to show up at his door?"
Mingyu chuckled. "You've got no courage, man."
"It's not about courage, idiot," Jungkook hissed, smacking his arm. "I want to approach him naturally. Become friends first."
"Oh right, philosopher Jungkook at it again."
Before Jungkook could retort, the professor's voice cracked like thunder.
"You two! Silence!"
Both boys sat straighter, reaching quickly for their notebooks. Still, a tiny smile tugged at Jungkook's lips, though his eyes held a quiet sadness that lingered longer than it should.
Present
Mingyu and Yena sank into the sleek black leather couch, the silence between them briefly charged with something unspoken. They exchanged a glance-faint curiosity in hers, a growing concern in his-and then both turned to face Jungkook, who was now seated at his desk, quietly flipping open a file with deliberate fingers.
Mingyu broke the silence first, voice low but cutting through the air like a blade.
"What are you planning?"
Jungkook didn't respond right away. He kept his eyes on the file in front of him, flipping a page as though the question didn't matter. His movements were smooth, practiced, as he signed on the dotted line with a quiet scratch of pen against paper. Only then did he glance up, his tone calm but detached.
"What do you mean by planning?"
Mingyu let out a slow sigh and shook his head. His jaw clenched as he leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees.
"What are you going to do with him?"
Jungkook paused mid-turn of a page. He looked up sharply, brows arching as if surprised by the question, but his eyes held no confusion-only defense.
"I have nothing to do with him."
Yena's brows furrowed. She straightened her posture and asked, clearly out of the loop,
"Can anyone tell me what's going on?"
Mingyu didn't even look at her. He scoffed and waved a hand toward Jungkook.
"Ask that stubborn idiot."
Yena turned toward Jungkook, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Is he the one that-"
But Jungkook cut her off abruptly, his voice sharp and tired.
"Can we stop talking about him? We all have something more important to deal with."
The tension in the room became thick-almost suffocating.
Mingyu stood, slow and deliberate. He walked toward Jungkook's desk, every step deliberate, like he was trying not to snap. He placed both hands flat on the polished surface and leaned forward. His voice dropped into something closer to a growl.
"Important? Is he not important to you now?"
Jungkook looked up, fire flickering in his eyes, and then spat the word like venom.
"No."
Mingyu laughed, a humorless, bitter sound.
"Oh come on, man. I've known you since we were kids. Try fooling someone else."
Jungkook's jaw tightened, his entire body tensing like a drawn bow. He pushed his chair back and stood slowly.
"Will you stop, or do you want me to make you stop?"
Before either could escalate further, Yena stood quickly.
"You both need to calm down!" she snapped, stepping between them. "We need to discuss our matter first."
Mingyu looked at her. His expression softened a little, some of the fire dimming in his eyes. After a pause, he gave a curt nod.
"We'll discuss it later."
Yena exhaled, smoothing down her dress.
"Alright then. I'll be leaving. Jungkook, we'll talk later."
Jungkook didn't look at either of them.
"Okay."
Mingyu gave Jungkook one last glance-half warning, half pity-then turned to Yena.
"I'll drop you. Let's go."
The door closed behind them.
And Jungkook was alone.
He collapsed back into his chair as though the strings holding him up had snapped. His fists clenched. The mask of calm he wore minutes ago cracked, revealing the storm within. His breath hitched, chest rising and falling with uneven rhythm. He had just seen his secretary-his Taehyung-with swollen eyes. And he had done that. He had caused that.
And worse... he was about to cause even more.
His thoughts spiraled in circles, anger turning inward like a knife twisting in his own chest.
"What have I done?"
But his self-loathing was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.
Taehyung stepped inside with slow, careful steps. His eyes were red, his face still puffy. His hands trembled slightly as he clutched the folder in his grip, but he kept his posture straight, forcing strength into each step.
He wasn't here to feel.
He wasn't here to speak of pain or broken hearts.
He was just here to deliver files-and then leave.
His gaze stayed firmly on the folder. He couldn't afford to look up. If he looked Jungkook in the eye, he knew he'd unravel all over again. And he had nothing left to spill.
With careful precision, he walked to the desk and placed the folder down.
He opened his mouth, trying to say something-anything-but before a word left his lips, a hand grabbed his wrist gently from the side.
Taehyung froze.
He knew it was Jungkook.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Don't look. Don't look. You won't survive if you look.
He tried to speak, but Jungkook was already turning him, slowly, so their bodies faced each other. Taehyung's head hung low, but Jungkook's hand moved to his palm, gently tracing the fresh wound where the glass had cut earlier.
A hiss escaped Taehyung's lips.
Jungkook's voice was soft, tentative.
"Mr. Kim, let me put-"
But Taehyung jerked his hand away, voice sharp with restrained emotion.
"No, Mr. Jeon. I'll do it myself."
Jungkook stilled.
He took a step forward.
Taehyung immediately stepped back.
Their eyes finally met.
Taehyung stared at him, disbelief and quiet devastation painted across his face.
How... how can you break me and still look so composed? How is that fair?
He took a shaky breath and said, quietly,
"Mr. Jeon, I have a request."
Jungkook's gaze lingered on his face.
"Go on."
Taehyung's voice wavered.
"Please stop being kind to me like this," he said, lifting his hand to show the wounded finger. "It... gives me hope. And I can't afford to hope anymore."
Jungkook flinched-just barely-but his expression quickly masked whatever he felt.
He looked down, then up again, and forced a faint smile.
"I'm just being-"
Taehyung interrupted him, voice cracking but still composed.
"Please don't. You're giving me something to hold on to, and I'm already drowning. Don't make me believe there's something more... when there isn't."
Jungkook went still. Frozen.
He didn't say a word.
Taehyung took a deep breath, his chest trembling.
"I've completed all the work. You can review and sign it. Now... I'll take my leave."
He bowed.
And just like that, he turned and walked out-never once looking back.
Jungkook didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
His heart pounded violently inside his chest as he stared at the door Taehyung had just walked through.
"Oh Jungkook... isn't this what you want"
His knees gave in, and he slumped into the chair.
No. This wasn't supposed to feel like this.
His hand moved to his chest, fingers clutching the fabric above his heart as if he could hold it together physically.
But it was no use.
He was falling apart.
Back in his own cabin, Taehyung finally let out the breath he'd been holding since he entered that cursed room. His hands trembled as he grabbed his bag.
He left without looking back.
In the taxi, he stared blankly out the window. The city passed him by in blurred colors, but all he could see was Jungkook's face.
That calm expression. That faint smile.
Why did he look so broken?
Why does it feel like I hurt him?
He clenched his fists.
Did I do something wrong?
No. No, I didn't. I had to say those things. I had to protect myself.
But the image of Jungkook's face wouldn't leave his mind.
He looked like I snatched something from him.
Why? Why is it so complicated? We met only two weeks ago. How did everything fall apart so quickly?
He groaned, gripping his hair, eyes shutting tightly as he leaned his head back against the seat.
The city moved on around him.
But Taehyung sat still-caught in the eye of a storm neither of them was ready to admit had already begun.
Chapter 10: Complicated
Chapter Text
Jungkook stood at the threshold of the grand mansion one last time.
His steps echoed faintly in the quiet hallways as he walked in. The place that once felt like home now felt cold, heavy. Memories clung to the walls like shadows, but he had made up his mind. He was moving to the apartment gifted to him by his grandfather-an attempt at independence, perhaps, or maybe escape.
As he entered his room, his eyes widened at the sight of butlers already packing his things. Boxes lined the floor, his belongings disappearing into sealed containers. A pang of unease hit his chest. He rushed forward, brushing past them and dropping to his knees in front of the bedside drawer. With a slightly trembling hand, he opened it-and relief washed over his face.
His box of memories was still there.
Gently, as if it were the most precious thing in the world, he pulled it out, holding it close to his chest for a brief moment before placing it carefully in a separate bag from the cupboard. He added his other essentials into it-his journals, a faded photograph, a watch that belonged to his father. Then he turned to the butler.
"This one's important," he said, handing over the bag. "Make sure it's transferred safely to my apartment."
Without waiting for a response, Jungkook turned and exited the room. He walked slowly, shoulders slouched, fatigue oozing from every step. The day had been long-physically draining and emotionally suffocating.
He headed straight for the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a bottle of water. He leaned against the counter as he drank, trying to compose himself. The cool liquid did little to ease the burning inside his chest.
A maid quietly stepped in. "Sir, your grandfather is waiting for you."
He closed his eyes briefly. Not now. He didn't have the strength for another confrontation. But did he have a choice?
Dragging his feet, he made his way to his grandfather's room, each step heavier than the last. He knocked, then entered.
His grandfather sat on the edge of the bed, thick files resting in his lap. At the sight of Jungkook, he gestured toward the chair near him.
Jungkook sat down, wordless, and the old man pushed the files toward him.
Curious but cautious, Jungkook picked them up and flipped them open. His eyes skimmed through the content-then suddenly stopped. His expression faltered.
"These... these are my parents' documents?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
His grandfather nodded gravely. "Yes. Your father made a clause. The company-his company-will only transfer to you once you're married."
Jungkook's breath hitched. The air left his lungs in a slow exhale. Married?
"What if I never marry?" he asked bitterly.
"Then, by policy, you can't inherit any shares," his grandfather replied coolly.
"That's ridiculous. Dad wouldn't do this to me," Jungkook said, his voice rising, defensive.
"He didn't want to. He only added the clause temporarily... He planned to change it after gifting the company to you at your wedding. But none of us saw the accident coming..."
Jungkook's hands clenched tightly around the file.
"So," he murmured, staring at the floor. "What now? You expect me to marry just for a company?"
His grandfather didn't flinch. "Soo Hyun has suggested Yena. You've known each other for a long time."
Jungkook's jaw locked. "We're just friends. I don't even like Yena like that."
"You could, if you gave it a chance."
"I can't," he snapped. His tone sharpened, laced with something deeper.
His grandfather's expression darkened. "Why? Because of your damn secretary?"
Silence.
Jungkook's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded painfully in his chest.
"Why are you bringing him into this?" His voice was low, dangerous now.
"You think I don't see you?" his grandfather sneered. "You're my blood. I know your every inch, Jungkook."
He didn't speak. He couldn't. His world was already too heavy to carry.
His grandfather leaned closer, voice cutting. "Do you know his family?" His grandfather handed him another file.
Jungkook open the file and then shut it immediately.
Jungkook stilled, eyes shadowed. "I know already."
His grandfather didn't speak further-just stared.
"Are you planning something?" the old man asked at last.
Was he? Was Taehyung a plan?
"No," Jungkook whispered to himself. Taehyung isn't a plan. He's... never been a plan. But what Jungkook is doing is not it make him a plan.
"Yena is like a sister to me,she likes my friend" he said aloud. "We can't marry."
"I'll let Soo Hyun talk to her."
"There's nothing to talk about!" Jungkook's voice finally cracked. "Why won't you understand?"
His grandfather's voice boomed, "Because I have to! This legacy needs a rightful heir, a rightful marriage."
If his parents were alive, this wouldn't be happening. He wouldn't be suffocating under the weight of their absence.
"I'll marry," Jungkook said at last, voice shaking. "Don't worry. But not with Yena."
"Then who?"
"I'll let you know. I'll arrange everything."
There was a pause. Then his grandfather's voice softened slightly. "I'm trusting you with this. But remember-because of you, I'll hurt Soo Hyun."
Jungkook laughed bitterly. "Funny, how you trust him more than you ever trusted Dad."
His grandfather's eyes darkened again, but Jungkook stood before the words could hang longer.
"I'm moving out today. Goodbye."
And with a polite bow, he walked out.
Taehyung returned home just as the sun dipped behind the rooftops.
The aroma of spices lingered in the air, and his mother's gentle humming came from the kitchen. He greeted softly and walked past, shoulders heavy. His mind was spinning.
Jungkook's face. Yena's smug voice. The party. The humiliation. Soo Hyun.
He was tired-bone-deep tired.
He shut his door behind him and leaned against it for a moment before walking into the washroom. Cold water splashed against his face, grounding him momentarily. When he stepped out, the world felt no lighter.
In the kitchen, his mother and sister were already seated.
"Come eat," his mother said gently.
He joined them at the table, pushing the heaviness aside for their sake. As he picked at his food, his sister and mother exchanged glances.
"You know Su Ah needs a checkup before the surgery," his mother said softly.
Taehyung froze mid-bite. How could he forget? Guilt rushed in like a tide.
"I... I forgot. I'm sorry, noona. We'll go tomorrow."
His sister nodded with a soft smile. "It's okay."
Then came the words that made his stomach drop.
"Your father called today," his mother said, hesitantly.
He looked up sharply. "What does he want now?"
"He said... he's planning to sell the house."
"What?" Taehyung stood. "He can't!"
"It's still in his name," she said quietly.
"I told you he's up to something," his sister muttered. "He needs money again-probably to fix another one of his messes."
Taehyung clenched his jaw, fury mixing with helplessness. His hands trembled under the table.
"I'll figure something out," he said.
"But how?" his mother asked, worry clouding her voice. "You're already juggling too much..."
"I have to," Taehyung said firmly. "It's my duty to protect you both. I'll manage."
He stood, gently kissed his mother's head, and walked to his room.
The moment he entered, he collapsed onto his bed.
The entire day came crashing down-Jungkook's distant gaze, his own helplessness, and now his father trying to uproot their home. The weight of responsibility crushed him from every side.
He grabbed his phone, searching for a moment of distraction.
A message blinked on screen. "Idiot, you didn't come to meet me." -Jimin.
Taehyung smiled faintly, a trace of warmth amid the storm.
"Today was exhausting, Jimin..." he typed back.
Then paused. And added:
"Jimin, I need a favor."
The reply was instant. "Go on, my love."
Taehyung chuckled under his breath.
"I need a small apartment for my family. On rent. Something affordable. If you can check..."
Jimin responded: "Why? Don't you have your own home? It's near your office, right?"
Taehyung hesitated. Then replied:
"I'll tell you in person."
"Okay. Don't worry. I'll check and let you know."
"Thanks, Jimin."
"It's nothing, Tae."
Taehyung sighed. He set his phone down.
His eyes landed on the small bear keychain resting on the table. He picked it up gently, fingers tracing its edges.
"Whenever my mood is down... my eyes always find you," he whispered. "You're something, aren't you?"
He stood, clipped the keychain onto his bag, and placed it back by the door.
Then, without another word, he climbed into bed, curling into the silence.
He needed rest. A long, uninterrupted sleep. Because tomorrow, the war would begin again.
The morning sun had barely stretched across the sky when Taehyung wheeled Su Ah gently out of their small home. The air was crisp, holding that fragile quiet that only early hours knew. Their mother stood at the door, watching them with a mix of hope and heaviness, eyes quietly praying as she waved them off.
The hospital stood tall, pale and cold in its architecture, the smell of antiseptic thick in the air. Taehyung moved with careful urgency, one hand gripping the wheelchair handle, the other adjusting Su Ah's scarf around her neck as they entered the reception.
The waiting area was quiet, save for the low hum of nurses' chatter and the beep of machines somewhere down the hallway. Su Ah's fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of her cardigan, nerves betraying her otherwise calm face.
"It's okay, noona. I'm here," Taehyung whispered beside her as they waited.
A nurse soon approached, smiling softly. "Miss Su Ah, Doctor Lee is ready to see you."
Su Ah looked up at Taehyung. He gave a short nod, pushing her gently behind the nurse. He sat in the waiting area, eyes blankly following the way his sister disappeared behind white doors. Minutes ticked by like hours, each breath heavier than the last.
Eventually, another nurse came and called his name. "Mr. Kim Taehyung? Doctor would like a word."
Taehyung followed in silence, hands deep in his pockets as if to hold in every fear threatening to break through. He stepped into the doctor's office-a warm-toned room, tidy, with a single potted plant trying to add life to the sterile air.
Doctor Lee sat behind the desk, hands folded, expression unreadable.
"Please sit, Mr. Kim."
Taehyung did, posture rigid. "How is she?"
The doctor let out a quiet sigh, taking off his glasses and placing them gently on the desk. "Taehyung-ssi... we've reviewed Su Ah's reports in depth."
Taehyung's heart began to pound.
"The type of surgery she needs... unfortunately, our facilities here are not equipped enough to handle it successfully."
A beat passed. Taehyung blinked.
"What... does that mean?"
Doctor Lee leaned forward, voice heavy with empathy. "It means... the best chance for her recovery lies in treatment abroad. There are hospitals in Germany and Switzerland that specialize in her condition."
Abroad?
Taehyung's breath caught. His hands turned cold.
"Doctor, how can I... I mean, how will I manage all that?" His voice cracked despite his efforts. "We can barely pay here."
"I understand," the doctor nodded solemnly. "Which is why we will refund the advance payment you made. You can check with the billing counter tomorrow morning for details."
"Refund won't cover international treatment," Taehyung whispered, mostly to himself.
"I'm truly sorry," Doctor Lee said softly.
Taehyung stood with a stiff nod. His limbs felt numb, but he forced them to move. As he exited the room, the hallway spun slowly around him. He could see Su Ah sitting near the waiting chairs, scrolling her phone quietly, but before joining her, he made a detour toward the hospital billing counter.
His thoughts were too loud, crashing into one another. How? How will I get her abroad? Loans? Sponsorships?
His feet dragged toward the counter, but before he reached, a familiar voice stabbed through the noise.
"Taehyung?"
The world around him seemed to freeze. He stopped in place. Slowly, he turned.
Across the corridor stood a man he hadn't seen in four long, haunted years. His father.
A bitterness flooded his throat.
His jaw clenched as he moved to walk past-but a rough hand grabbed his arm.
"Taehyung, listen, kid-"
Taehyung ripped his arm free, expression flat. He took a step back, preparing to leave without a word.
But the man spoke again, voice sharper. "Don't show me attitude, son. You know me better. I haven't meddled in your life for four years. Be thankful."
Taehyung let out a short, sharp laugh. "Thankful? For what, huh? That you ruined our lives and left?"
His father's expression hardened. He stepped closer, grabbing Taehyung's shoulder with stern force.
"Show some respect. I'm your father."
"No," Taehyung hissed, "you're just the man who made my mother cry herself to sleep for years. Don't come near us."
His father's voice grew colder. "Mr. Kang approached you, didn't he? You refused his offer. Are you stupid? He would've paid you well."
"You want me to become a drug smuggler like you?" Taehyung snapped. "You want me to turn into a criminal and rot like you do every day? You disgust me."
His words hung in the air like poison-and then-
SMACK.
The slap rang loud and cruel across the sterile hallway.
Taehyung staggered slightly, cheek burning red, ears ringing.
He didn't cry. He didn't flinch.
He looked up at the man who claimed to be his father and said coldly, "You only know how to beat, nothing else. This is your last warning. Stay away from us, or I swear I'll file a report. You don't want another case on your head."
And with that, he walked away.
His cheek throbbed with each step. But he didn't slow down.
He returned to Su Ah, face partly hidden now behind a black mask.
His sister looked up from her phone. " my friend is coming. She said he'll take me home. She's nearby."
She looks towards door,a woman of her sister age approaching" Oh there she is"
Taehyung nodded. "Okay. I'll head to the office, then. I shouldn't be late."
She paused. "Why the mask?"
"Hospital," he lied. "Germs."
She didn't question more. He made sure she was safely settled with her friend, gave her a last glance, and then walked away.
But each step away from the hospital felt heavier than the last.
He didn't know what would break first-his heart, or his hope.
Chapter 11: Inner Child
Chapter Text
The faint sea and the air
of that summer day
The sound of the gray
streets that were so cold
I take a breath and
knock on your door
Flashback
The golden warmth of the afternoon sunlight bathed the classroom, spilling across desks like calm before a storm. Jungkook sat quietly by the window, a book open in his lap, though his eyes hadn't moved from the same sentence for the last few minutes. Something felt off all day, a gut feeling that wouldn't settle.
The door slammed open.
"Jungkook!" Mingyu rushed in, his breathing ragged.
Jungkook immediately looked up, eyes narrowing. "What happened?"
"Taehyung—he's behind the gym," Mingyu said, urgency thick in his voice. "Jake and his gang—four of them—they cornered him. I think they were trying to mess with him."
Jungkook stood up instantly, his book falling to the floor with a thud. "What?"
"I don't know what they were saying exactly—I just saw them surrounding him. He looked... scared. I ran to get you."
Jungkook was already moving. Fast.
Mingyu caught up, grabbing his arm for a second. "Wait—he doesn't even know you. Are you ready to—"
Jungkook jerked his arm free. "This isn't the time to think."
They sprinted across the courtyard and around the gym building, the air getting heavier as they neared. Laughter—mocking and cruel—echoed off the walls. They halted.
Taehyung was nowhere in sight.
"There," Mingyu pointed toward the benches. Four boys lounged lazily, mid-conversation.
"That's them."
Jungkook's eyes locked onto Jake. Rage bubbled, but he walked toward them with chilling calm.
Jake looked up, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Well, well. Jeon Jungkook, everyone."
The boys looked around, confused and then entertained.
"You lost something, golden boy?" Jake sneered.
Jungkook's silence was like a warning bell. He didn't respond—just kept walking until he stood directly in front of them.
Jake squinted. "You okay, man?"
Jungkook's jaw was tight, eyes burning.
Another boy leaned in. "If you're here for the school's silent mascot—he ran off."
"Guess he didn't like what we said," the other one chuckled. "Touchy subject, you know?"
Jake smirked. "Didn't he resign from the art club too? A whole scholarship path wiped clean. Sad. He was good—but maybe he realized people like him don't get to dream."
"Blood tells the truth," one added. "He's the son of a criminal—drug dealer, wasn't it? Guess the apple didn't fall far."
"Poor kid," the lanky one sighed mockingly. "Probably can't even afford pencils now. He hides behind that sketchbook like it's gonna erase what his dad did."
Jake leaned back, smirking. "A genius born to garbage. He should've been aborted."
Crack.
Jungkook's fist landed on Jake's jaw, making his head snap to the side.
The boys froze.
A second punch came—harder—right to the cheek. Jake fell to the ground with a grunt.
Jungkook stepped forward, grabbed his collar, and delivered a third punch straight into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Jake gasped, clutching his ribs, coughing.
The others tried to move back.
Jungkook stood over him, breathing heavy, fists trembling.
"If any of you go near him again..." Jungkook said, his voice low and dangerous, "I promise you won't be showing your faces in this school again."
His voice was low, venomous.
"You know me better Jake, and my family too. I will not hesitate to erase you from here."
Jake looked up, dazed and bleeding. The smirk was long gone.
Jungkook stepped back.
The boys didn't speak. They couldn't.
Mingyu watched, eyes wide with silent awe.
As they walked away, Jungkook's voice barely broke the air.
"I should have done it earlier".
.
.
.
The hum of chatter and clinking trays echoed through the cafeteria as students crowded in for lunch. Jungkook and Mingyu stepped inside, eyes scanning the room.
Jungkook's eyes found him in seconds.
There, in the far corner by the window, Taehyung sat beside Jimin. His tray was full, but he hadn't touched anything. He just stared blankly at his food, head slightly down, fingers fiddling with the edge of the napkin.
Jungkook exhaled deeply. His shoulders lowered as though the sight stole the weight from them.
Mingyu glanced at him and groaned, "Bro, go to him. Seriously, staring at him like that? It's creepy."
Jungkook didn't take his eyes off Taehyung. "I can't," he said softly. "You don't understand."
Without waiting, he turned on his heel and walked toward the food counter. Mingyu followed, confused.
Jungkook paid for a small tray: a fresh sandwich and a chilled bottle of strawberry milkshake.
Mingyu frowned. "Since when do you drink strawberry shakes?"
Jungkook glanced sideways. "It's not for me."
"Oh," Mingyu blinked. "Then it must be for—wait, I don't like strawberry. You know that. You can have—"
"Who said it's for you?" Jungkook shot him a mock-disgusted look. "Eww."
Mingyu blinked again, offended. "Yeah, you—"
But Jungkook was already pulling out a small notepad from his backpack. With quiet focus, he scribbled something down,take a picture of note then carefully tore the page and stuck it to the milkshake bottle.
He stared at it for a second, then looked around the cafeteria. A random first-year student passed by.
"Hey," Jungkook called him gently. "Can you do me a favor?"
The boy stopped. "Sure."
"See that boy over there, sitting with the brown hair and black sweater?" Jungkook pointed discreetly. "Can you give him this tray? Don't tell him who gave it. Just say someone left it for him."
The boy nodded, cheerful. "Okay! I got you."
Jungkook stepped away quickly and made his way out of the cafeteria. He walked down the hall and stood by the large window just outside the dining area. The glass offered a full view inside.
Mingyu joined him, arms crossed. "This is next-level weird, dude."
Inside, the boy approached Taehyung's table. "Hey, someone left this for you."
Taehyung looked up, surprised. "Me?"
The boy nodded and placed the tray in front of him before walking off.
Jimin raised an eyebrow. "Who gave you this?"
Taehyung blinked. "I... don't know."
He picked up the milkshake, eyes widening a little at the sight of the note taped to it. He pulled it off gently and read the message.
"Even cloudy days feel better with something sweet. Don't stop smiling—ever."
Taehyung stared at the note, then softly smiled to himself. He folded it and slid it into his pocket like it was something precious. Then he took a careful sip of the shake—and smiled again, more fully this time.
Outside, Jungkook watched it all from the window. His lips curved upward with a quiet satisfaction.
Mingyu noticed. "Wow. You're smiling like a love-struck puppy."
Jungkook didn't deny it. He just kept watching.
Mingyu crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. "How do you even know he likes strawberry shake?"
Jungkook didn't look away. "Of course I know," he murmured. "I know everything he likes... and everything he doesn't."
Mingyu blinked at him. "Bro... I'm gonna need an explanation one day."
But Jungkook was already walking away, his heart a little lighter than before.
Present
Taehyung glanced at his phone camera one last time before stepping out of the taxi. The red flush from the slap had mostly faded, leaving behind only a faint scratch near the corner of his lip. He sighed, paid the driver, and turned toward the towering building of JT Corp, shoulders squared but chest heavy.
As he stepped into the company lobby and pressed the elevator button, his phone buzzed. He held it in one hand, the other resting on the cool steel of the elevator button panel. The metallic chime of the elevator echoed and the doors began to close—but just then, a hand stopped them.
He looked up.
And froze.
Jungkook.
The man he had told yesterday—no, warned—to stay away from him. The same man who had pushed him, physically and emotionally, only hours ago. Taehyung's heart gave a painful lurch. Memories from the previous day rushed in like a flood. His own voice from yesterday echoed in his head: ""Please don't. You're giving me something to hold on to, and I'm already drowning. Don't make me believe there's something more... when there isn't."
He instinctively stepped back, making room as Jungkook walked in, flanked by two employees. Taehyung didn't dare to meet his eyes.
The elevator resumed its course. One by one, the employees exited on their respective floors. Now, only two remained.
Jungkook and Taehyung.
Silence cocooned the small space. Heavy, awkward, unbearable.
Taehyung glanced sideways and saw Jungkook shift slightly. Panicked, he quickly brought his phone to his ear, pretending to talk.
"Y-Yeah Jimin... I'm in the elevator now, heading to my cabin," he said, trying to sound natural.
But before he could finish, his phone buzzed again—an alert flashing across the screen. No call. No Jimin.
He was caught.
His eyes darted toward Jungkook. The CEO was already looking at him, a low chuckle escaping his lips.
And this time—Taehyung saw it. The flicker in Jungkook's eyes. Unmasked. Unfiltered. Something raw and unspoken shimmered in them, even if just for a second.
Taehyung's breath caught. He was still holding the phone to his ear, but his entire body had gone still. Why wasn't the elevator moving? Why did time feel like it had hit pause?
Jungkook took a step forward. Taehyung's eyes widened, his heartbeat thudding loudly in his ears.
Without breaking eye contact, Jungkook gently took the phone from his hand, slipping it down slowly. Then, reaching into his suit pocket, he pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief and softly pressed it against the side of Taehyung's lip.
Taehyung flinched at the touch, startled, but didn't move away.
Then Jungkook spoke, his voice low and firm, brushing against Taehyung's spine like static.
"Mr. Kim..." Jungkook's voice was barely above a whisper, rough and hesitant, "I didn't mean for it to go that far. I... shouldn't have let that happen."
Before Taehyung could even react, the elevator dinged. The doors opened.
Jungkook stepped out without another word, leaving Taehyung standing there, breathless, hand half-raised, heart tangled in a hundred threads of confusion.
The air returned to Taehyung's lungs only once the elevator doors shut again.
He blinked. Once. Twice.
What just happened?
What did Jungkook mean by that? Why did it sound like...
His thoughts scrambled as he made his way to his cabin, body moving on autopilot while his mind spiraled. He had pushed those feelings away yesterday—he had to. But now... now he wasn't sure if he could.
Not when Jungkook looked at him like that.
Back in his office, Jungkook shut the door and immediately dialed a number on his private phone.
"Hello, Mr. Jeon," the voice on the other end answered.
"What have you found?" Jungkook's voice was low, calm, but his eyes were stormy.
"We're tracing everything. He was seen near the outskirts hospital yesterday. We're trying to confirm the reason."
"Keep digging," Jungkook ordered. "I want everything—every name, every connection. We only have a week."
"Yes, sir."
"I'll be meeting him today," Jungkook added, standing up and grabbing his coat. "Arrange it. Make it quick."
He hung up before the other end could respond. Moments later, a message blinked on his screen.
Without a word, Jungkook left his office.
Taehyung was immersed in a report when a knock snapped his attention. He stood quickly and saw Jungkook walk in, not looking at him.
"I'm heading out for some work," Jungkook said, already on a call. "Handle things here. Cancel any meetings for the day."
Before Taehyung could even nod, Jungkook was gone.
Taehyung stared at the door for a few seconds. A strange ache stirred in his chest. Something unreadable. He shook his head, forcing himself back to focus.
His phone buzzed—Jimin again.
"Hey, Jimin."
"Well, look who finally remembered the commoners," Jimin teased.
Taehyung chuckled. "Jungkook was there earlier..."
"Oooh, CEO Jeon? Got more spice on him if you want," Jimin snickered.
Taehyung smiled faintly. "Hmm... by the way, about the apartment?"
"I found a good one," Jimin said. "Decent rent. We can go check it out tomorrow."
"Thanks, Jimin."
"Don't thank me—just treat me to a meal."
"You got it. Alright, I need to finish some reports."
"Fine, fine, get back to being secretary of the year."
Taehyung ended the call, leaning back in his chair. One thing settled.
But then his thoughts shifted again. His sister's surgery. The advance from the hospital. He needed to follow up today.
Jungkook entered a dim café with a low cap and mask hiding his identity. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on a man—middle-aged, sitting with an unpleasant smirk.
Jungkook clenched his fists, walked over.
"Mr. Woo Jin?"
The man narrowed his eyes. "Yes, and you are?"
"I'm the one who asked to meet," Jungkook said, calmly sitting across from him.
"What do you want?" Woo Jin snapped.
"No need to rush," Jungkook said with a smile. "Just some answers. In return, I'll give you money. As much as you want."
Woo Jin's eyes gleamed, posture shifting. "Money, huh? Fine. Ask."
"Who ordered the hit on Mr. and Mrs. Jeon? 6 years ago. The longer case on you that got you two years sentence. "
Woo Jin froze for a second, then scoffed. "It was an accident. I was drunk. Served two years for that crap."
Jungkook's jaw tightened. Two years. That's all his parents' lives were worth?
"You and I both know it wasn't an accident," Jungkook said. "You're protecting someone. Again."
Woo Jin stood up. "Listen, kid—whatever story you've heard, it's wrong."
Jungkook rose too, eyes sharp. "You want freedom? I can give it to you. Cover your current mess, but in return, I want the truth."
Woo Jin hesitated.
"I need time," he finally muttered.
"Fine," Jungkook said, turning. But then, he paused—and punched him. Once. Twice.
Woo Jin stumbled, glaring. "What the hell?!"
"Those are for today," Jungkook said coldly. "You pissed me off twice."
He dropped a packet of cash on the table. "That's a gift. If you give me what I need—next time, it'll be a full bag."
Without another word, Jungkook walked out.
Woo Jin picked up the money, eyes sharp.
Moments later, he made a call.
"He came. Jeon's son."
A pause.
"Of course I know who he is. I won't say anything—but you owe me."
Something on other call said.
His eyebrows furrowed then he say, " I will hit a jackpot with this information."
He smirked and ended the call, slipping the cash into his coat.
Chapter 12: Blue and Grey
Chapter Text
Life is easy, isn't it?
You just have to live-you just have to breathe, eat, and exist.
At least, that's what they say.
But for Kim Taehyung, existing is all he's ever really done. He breathes, yes, but he doesn't live. His soul feels like a house where all the lights are turned off-quiet, empty, forgotten. People call life cruel, but Taehyung knows better. It's not life-it's people who make it cruel.
He's been a soldier in a war that never had a name. Not on any battlefield, but within the walls of his own home. In his own mind. Every day a new fight, every breath a quiet scream. And now... with his heart too.
Taehyung was once a star-the kind people looked up to. Bright. Admired. Promising. But even stars burn out. His light began to dim when he was just eighteen. Everything collapsed.
He dropped out of school before graduation. Picked up whatever jobs he could to support his family. Chose homeschooling because he can't face people anymore. Chose survival.
He cut ties-even with Jimin, his closest friend, that he ever got in his whole life. He was embarrassed if jimin got to know about his condition he will be disgusted of him too like all others.
He told himself to stay strong. To keep pushing. To hold on.
But even the strongest hearts get tired.
He wasn't weak-he was just done.
Now, soaked from head to toe, rain dripping from his bangs, clothes clinging to his skin, he stood in front of a door he never imagined himself knocking on.
Jungkook's apartment.
But before that-
Flashback:
The day had begun with a flicker of hope.
Small. Fragile. Enough to breathe a little easier.
By evening, it was gone.
Taehyung returned home with aching arms and grocery bags weighing down his hands.
"Eomma, I'm home. Today I got-"
He froze.
There, sitting on the couch like he owned it-legs crossed, a smug smirk tugging at his lips-his father.
Taehyung's gaze darted to his mother.
Swollen eyes. A faint bruise marring her cheek.
His sister, silent and still in her wheelchair, knuckles bone-white as she gripped the armrests.
His throat tightened, the words clawing to get out. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"Relax, son," the man said with a lazy drawl. "Can't a father visit his family?"
"You hit her?" Taehyung's voice shook, rage and terror mixing into something almost unbearable.
"She raised her voice. Disrespectful," his father shrugged, like it was nothing.
"You don't belong here."
"He came... for the house documents," his sister whispered, barely audible.
Taehyung turned sharply, heart slamming against his ribs. "What?"
The man leaned back, smug.
"You're earning now. Working for a big company. What's the name..." He smirked. "Ah, the JT Corp."
He chuckled under his breath, then met Taehyung's gaze with dead, gleaming eyes.
"I thought it was time I claimed what's mine."
Taehyung's fists clenched so tight his nails dug into his palms.
His phone buzzed.
He snatched it up with shaking hands.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Kim Taehyung? We've just processed the hospital refund. The amount has been returned to the original account-the one under your father's name."
"What?" Taehyung's voice cracked.
"Your father presented your ID at the counter. So... we refunded him."
The line went dead.
The phone nearly slipped from his hand.
"You stole my ID," he whispered.
"Yesterday. You left your wallet," his father said, laughing lowly. "Should've been more careful."
"You-!"
Taehyung lunged forward, but his father shoved him back like a rag doll.
"Still so dramatic. Think of it as repayment for your upbringing."
He jabbed a finger toward Taehyung's mother and sister. "You want these two to suffer?"
Taehyung's mother clutched his arm, holding him back, crying.
His sister sobbed silently, head bowed.
"I'm taking the house," his father sneered. "Empty it by tomorrow. Or I'll make sure none of you sleep peacefully again."
The door slammed shut behind him.
And silence fell.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Taehyung sank to his knees, trembling hands reaching for his mother and sister.
"I'll fix this," he said, voice raw. "I promise."
"But we don't even have rent money. You already submitted your pay for the hospital," his sister whispered, broken.
"I'll find a way," he murmured, brushing her hair with a gentleness that nearly undid him.
Later, he stood outside, the cold air biting his wet skin.
Phone in hand.
Heart in shreds.
He stared at his contacts.
No one. No one but-
He pressed call.
The ring buzzed once. Twice. Then a voice, warm and familiar:
"Hey... Taehyung?"
"Jimin..." He swallowed thickly. "Can I... bring my family to your place? Just for tonight?"
His voice cracked on the last word.
"Why not, man? Bring them," Jimin answered without hesitation.
No questions.
Just trust.
Taehyung stood in the small, dimly lit living room of Jimin's apartment.
His mother and sister sat huddled on the couch, wrapped in warm blankets.
A heater hummed quietly in the corner, throwing soft light across their faces.
"I'll be back soon," Taehyung whispered, kneeling before them. "You're safe here. I promise. Jimin will take care of you."
He tucked a strand of hair behind his sister's ear, her eyes fluttering shut with exhaustion.
His mother clutched his hand tightly.
"Tae... where are you going?"
"To find a way," he said, forcing a small, crooked smile. "I promise I'll fix it."
He rose, turning to Jimin, who leaned silently against the doorframe.
"Thank you," Taehyung whispered, heart too full for anything else.
Jimin nodded, eyes soft. "You need to rest Taehyung. We will solve it together if you allow me."
"Jimin you have done already enough for me. "
"Taehyung we can contact police you know."
Taehyung smiled sadly. " You know that I have done it many times, he come back even more cruel after that. "
Jimin's jaw tightening. " So what you will do then? "
Taehyung stilled and then speak. " I have someone in my mind may be he will be able to help me. "
"Come back then lemme know if I can be more helpful. "
"I will".
With one last glance at the two people he loved most, Taehyung stepped out into the night.
.
.
.
The city breathed around him.
Alive. Loud. Uncaring.
But he wasn't part of it.
He moved through the streets like a ghost, feet carrying him forward without thought.
Past neon signs buzzing in the rain.
Past strangers laughing and arguing and living.
His body was here.
But his soul-it had been left somewhere behind.
Where? He didn't know.
Where does a soul go when it's crushed too many times to count?
One drop.
Two.
Rain kissed his cheeks, soft at first.
Then the sky cracked open, and the downpour came.
The world blurred into streaks of color and sound, voices lost in the flood.
Taehyung stood in the middle of it all.
A small figure against an endless sky.
And when one drop slid down his cheek-he knew.
It wasn't rain.
It was a tear.
Then another.
And the dam broke.
His knees hit the pavement with a hollow thud, sharp pain shooting up his legs-but he barely felt it.
With his head bowed low, fists clenched so tightly they shook, he wept.
Wept for all the battles he fought and lost.
Wept for the home he couldn't save.
Wept for the mother and sister who deserved so much more than him.
The tears came in heavy, heaving sobs that wracked his whole body.
And then-
Through the rain, through the roar in his ears, he heard his own voice.
Broken. Fragile.
"Why?"
He tilted his face to the sky, letting the rain wash his tears away, and screamed.
"Why?! Why can't we ever just live?!"
No answer came.
Only the cold, endless rain.
"What do I have left to give?! My soul? My pride? My heart?!"
Heart? Right now this is the only thing left to be trade. No it is already being traded.
Pride? He is about to trade it too
Soul? Already dead.
The words ripped from him like jagged glass.
People passed.
Some stared.
Most didn't.
The world moved on.
But Taehyung stayed there, crumbling.
He stayed there until he couldn't anymore.
Slowly-achingly-he forced himself to his feet.
His clothes clung to him, heavy with rain.
His hair plastered against his forehead.
His heart thudded like a drum too heavy to carry.
He closed his eyes.
And in the darkness behind his lids, one thought burned clear:
I have no choice.
He opened his eyes.
His feet moved forward.
Toward the only door left to knock on.
Toward the one man who could either save him-or destroy him completely.
Present:
The rain had lessened to a soft drizzle by the time Taehyung reached the grand entrance of Jungkook's apartment.
His steps faltered, breath caught between hesitation and surrender. Drenched to the bone, hair dripping, shoulders hunched, he looked like a man dragged out of a storm-both inside and out.
Before he could knock, the door opened.
Jungkook stood there, barefoot in dark cotton pants and a loose black shirt, a glass of water in one hand.
His eyes widened, just for a second, as if seeing a ghost standing on his doorstep.
But that moment passed quickly. The mask returned, smooth and unreadable.
"Mr. Kim," Jungkook said, tone carefully neutral. "What are you doing here?."
Taehyung didn't speak.
He didn't meet Jungkook's eyes. His gaze was low, faraway-like his mind had long since left his body behind. He is embarassed of himself.
Without another word, Jungkook stepped to the side, silently making space.
Taehyung walked in slowly, shoes squelching quietly on the polished floor. Water dripped from his sleeves onto the marble, but he didn't notice. Didn't care.
Jungkook shut the door gently behind him and disappeared for a brief moment-returning with a clean towel and a change of clothes.
He offered the towel first, holding it out. "Here. Dry off. You'll catch a cold."
Taehyung didn't move. Didn't even blink.
Jungkook hesitated, then placed the towel over Taehyung's shoulders anyway, his fingers brushing over soaked fabric. "You should get changed."
Still, no reaction.
Jungkook's voice softened, lower now. "Mr. Kim, you'll catch co-"
"I need your help. You are rich right?. Can you give me money or" he paused.
The words landed heavy, startling in their suddenness.
Jungkook stopped mid-sentence.
"If you promise to send my family somewhere safe-somewhere they won't be found..."
Taehyung slowly raised his head, eyes bloodshot, voice hoarse, "I'll work for you. Obey you. Do anything you want. Just... keep them safe."
Jungkook's expression didn't change. But his silence deepened. His hands is itching on his side.
"If I ever made you offended I m sorry " Taehyung continued, shoulders trembling, "I know I acted like an asshole two days ago with you when you didn't do anything wrong you were just being kind I miss interpretated. I m sorry for everything. I thought I could handle everything. But I can't. Not anymore."
His throat tightened. "Please."
Jungkook looked at him for a long moment, unreadable. His fist clenched at his side.
"You're exhausted," he said finally, voice low. "We'll talk in the morning."
"No!"
Taehyung's voice cracked, echoing off the high ceiling, eyes glassy with tears.
"I said I'll do anything!"
His hands clenched at his sides. His voice looked desperate.
"I'll stay quiet. Be useful. I'll do everything you say. Just... don't let anything happen to them."
He swallowed, his pride collapsing piece by piece. "I'm sorry. For what I said before. For how I acted. Just... help me. Please."
And then, without thinking, his knees started to bend-
"Don't."
The word cut through the air like a blade. Jungkook stepped forward, his voice firm now. "Don't kneel."
Their eyes met.
Jungkook's jaw clenched as he exhaled through his nose. "I'll help. I'll send them somewhere safe. I'll take care of it."
Then, softer, "rest we will discuss it tomorrow. "
He looked away, clearing his throat.
"The guest room is to your right," he said, tone slipping back into CEO calm.
And with that, Jungkook turned away, disappearing down the hallway without another word.
Taehyung remained in the entranceway-rain still dripping from his sleeves, heart pounding, knees weak-but this time...
He wasn't falling alone.
.
.
.
Jungkook shut the door behind him with a quiet click, but the moment it latched, his composure cracked.
His hand lingered on the doorknob for a second longer before he let it fall and leaned back against the wooden frame, breath catching in his throat. The cool surface pressed against his spine, but his chest burned-tight, heavy, unbearable.
Then his knees gave out.
He slid down, collapsing silently to the floor, back against the door, palms pressed flat beside him, as if grounding himself.
Taehyung's face wouldn't leave his mind.
Those hollow eyes.
That soaked, shivering body that didn't flinch when touched.
The way his voice trembled when he begged.
It shattered something inside him. Something he had welded shut a long time ago.
A tear escaped before he could stop it-hot and slow, tracing the curve of his cheek.
He wiped it away roughly with the back of his hand, as if erasing a weakness.
He wanted to scream.
To burn the world that had reduced Taehyung to this.
He wanted to hold him.
To wrap him in warmth and whisper that he'd be okay-that Jungkook would shield him from everything, even if it meant standing against the storm alone.
But how?
How could he say any of it, when he'd built himself into someone so calculated, so cold, so untouchable?
He had learned to swallow his emotions, bite his tongue, and bury every flicker of softness beneath the weight of responsibility.
He wanted to feel. God, he wanted to feel.
But every time he tried, a voice inside whispered:
If you show too much, it'll ruin him. If you get close, you'll destroy him more. Don't be selfish. He will hate you in the end. He don't love you.
So he stayed still.
Numb.
Silent.
Chest pounding with everything he couldn't say.
And outside that door, just a few feet away, the man he once wished he could have-
-was breaking.
And all Jungkook could do... was listen.
He stood up and gripped his phone tightly. He needed to do something. Without hesitation, he dialed the number.
"Hey, Jungkook! Everything okay? You're calling at this time?" Mingyu answered, surprised.
Jungkook paused for a moment before replying in a calm tone, "I need your help... with the things I discussed with you earlier."
Mingyu didn't respond immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was anxious yet serious. "Jungkook, won't this just make things worse for you? I still think you should tell him everything."
"No," Jungkook said firmly, his voice cracking slightly. "If he finds out, he'll think I used him. I can't bear that, Mingyu. I thought I could control myself, but... I can't." He took a shaky breath. "I want to be selfish, just one last time. After six years, I finally got another chance-I don't want to lose it again."
"Okay," Mingyu said softly. "I'll prepare the documents. But... what will you tell him?"
"I don't know," Jungkook admitted. "I just hope... I hope he won't blame himself. I can take his hate, all of it. But I don't want him to blame himself."
"He won't," Mingyu reassured him.
"I'm scared, Mingyu," Jungkook whispered.
"Nothing's going to happen. Don't worry. You're doing this to make him happy, Jungkook. Why would he think badly of you? I'll prepare the documents and send them to you tomorrow."
"Thanks," Jungkook murmured.
"And hey," Mingyu added warmly, "come back to your usual self, bro. You scared the hell out of me today. You actually opened up after six years. But... I'm glad. At least you're not bottling everything inside anymore."
Jungkook let out a soft chuckle. "Alright, enough. Good night."
"Good night, man," Mingyu replied.
The call ended, but Jungkook didn't move right away.
He stood there in the dim light of his room, the phone still pressed loosely in his hand. His heart was heavy, weighed down by fear and hope tangled together. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the wall, feeling the cool surface steady him.
He knew what he was about to do could change everything - for better or worse.
But deep down, he was willing to risk it.
For once, he wanted to choose happiness... even if it meant carrying the guilt alone.
Chapter 13: Double Take
Chapter Text
Flashback:
Jimin rushed through the corridor, his bag swinging behind him, and hurried into the classroom. His eyes quickly scanned the room until they landed on a familiar figure—a boy with soft brown hair, hunched over his books, isolated despite the chatter around him.
Two boys stood over Taehyung, poking and nudging him, their voices carrying teasing words that were anything but friendly.
"Hey Taehyung! Stop acting all innocent now. Your father's becoming quite the talk of the city, you know," sneered one of them, a boy named Jay, chuckling as he spoke.
"Yeah, Kim Taehyung," added the other, stepping forward with a cruel grin. "Is it true? Did your father beat your mother? Did he beat you too?"
Taehyung kept his head bowed low, his hair shadowing his face. Shame and helplessness wrapped around him like a heavy cloak, stealing away any courage he might have had to look up or speak back.
Before either boy could say anything more, Jimin's voice suddenly rang across the room, sharp and furious.
"You two! Wait right there, or I swear I'll throw you out the window!"
Startled by the outburst, the two boys backed off, muttering under their breaths as they retreated to their seats.
Jimin approached Taehyung carefully and placed a hand on his friend's trembling shoulder. The moment he touched him, Taehyung flinched, his body tense as if expecting another blow. Slowly, he lifted his face to look at Jimin—eyes hollow, tired beyond his years.
Jimin's heart ached at the sight, but he knew better than to push. He had long since realized that Taehyung didn't want questions. Every time Jimin tried to ask, to reach the pain buried inside him, Taehyung would simply smile and change the subject.
It wasn't that he didn't trust Jimin. It was fear—fear that if he opened up, Jimin would start to pity him. And pity was the last thing Taehyung wanted from his only friend.
He just wanted them to stay the way they were—normal, comfortable, whole.
Taehyung broke the heavy silence first, his voice soft but steady.
"Hey, you're late."
It was always like this. Pretending nothing happened. Giving Jimin a space where everything felt normal, even if just for a while.
Jimin, understanding his silent plea, played along. He grinned brightly and replied, "Yeah, I overslept."
Sliding into the seat next to him, Jimin leaned over and glanced at Taehyung's open book.
"What are you studying?"
"Maths test," Taehyung answered, flipping a page. "I have a part-time shift later this evening, so I thought I should get some studying done now."
Jimin chuckled, nudging him lightly.
"Kim Taehyung, you’re a genius. Even if you don't study, you’d still top the class!"
Taehyung gave a small, genuine smile—the kind Jimin fought every day to protect.
"It's not like that," he murmured modestly.
Just then, their teacher entered the classroom, and the students straightened up in their seats. The familiar scratching of chalk against the board filled the room, and for a little while longer, Taehyung could just be a boy at school—safe, unbroken, and free.
"What should we eat today?" Jimin asked, glancing at his friend beside him.
They were now seated in the bustling school cafeteria, trays clattering, students chatting all around.
"I’ll skip today. You eat. I’m not hungry," Taehyung replied quietly, his voice almost drowned out by the noise.
Jimin sighed, not surprised. He stood up anyway, made his way to the counter, and returned with two bowls of steaming noodles. Without waiting for permission, he placed one in front of Taehyung.
Taehyung opened his mouth, about to protest, but Jimin cut him off sharply.
"You either eat it, or I’ll pour it over your head."
Defeated, Taehyung sighed, took the bowl, and followed Jimin to an empty table near the corner. They settled down quietly.
As Taehyung lifted his eyes for a brief second, he immediately felt it—every gaze in the cafeteria pinned onto him.
He knew this feeling too well now. It had been haunting him for over a month.
Ever since whispers about his family had surfaced, the warm smiles and praises he'd once received had twisted into looks of pity, disgust, or cruel amusement.
He heard the hushed murmurs, the sharp-edged laughter. He kept his head low, staring down at the bowl as if the noodles might save him from drowning in humiliation.
At a table close by, a group of boys snickered, their voices loud enough for him to hear.
"Isn’t he the one whose father went to jail... like, multiple times?" one of them said, loud and mocking.
"Yeah, what a pathetic loser," another one added, chuckling darkly. "Grades sky-high but morals hitting rock bottom."
Their laughter echoed around them, cutting deeper than any slap could.
Taehyung gripped the bowl tighter, wishing he could disappear, become invisible. He didn’t look up. He couldn't.
Jimin’s fists clenched at his sides. He was about to stand up and confront them when suddenly, a loud bang split the air.
Everyone turned.
A boy, a little taller than Jimin, with neatly combed black hair and a perfectly tidy uniform, had slammed his fist down hard on the group’s table.
His back was towards Taehyung and Jimin’s table, broad and unmoving like a shield.
The cafeteria fell into a stunned silence.
One of the boys from the group stammered, "W-What are you doing, man?"
Without turning his body, the black-haired boy spoke, his voice steady and cold.
"I was eating. Your barking ruined my appetite."
The boy who had laughed the loudest earlier scowled and spat out, "Don’t think you’re Jake, man. I’m not scared of you!"
Jimin leaned towards Taehyung, whispering, "Taehyung... should we go somewhere else?"
His voice was low, cautious.
Before Taehyung could answer, the black-haired boy, still facing away from them, said in a flat voice, "Why would you leave? They're the problem."
His words cut through the air like a knife.
Jimin stared at the boy’s back, wanting to say something, but before he could, the black-haired boy leaned close and whispered something into the troublemaker’s ear—a few words, too soft to catch.
The boy's face paled instantly.
Without another word, the black-haired boy straightened up, turned on his heel, and walked out of the cafeteria. Another boy, probably his friend, followed him closely behind.
Left in the aftermath, the group of bullies stood up hastily, throwing a quick, uneasy glance at Jimin and Taehyung’s table before slinking out of the cafeteria.
The tension slowly melted away, but Taehyung sat frozen, lost somewhere far away from the present.
"Taehyung..." Jimin called gently, but Taehyung abruptly stood up, his chair scraping the floor.
"I need to go to the restroom. I’ll be quick," he mumbled, and without waiting for a reply, hurried out.
Jimin watched him leave, his heart sinking lower than ever.
Jungkook stormed out of the cafeteria, his footsteps echoing through the quiet corridor.
Moments later, Mingyu jogged up behind him.
"Jungkook, man—calm down," Mingyu said, catching up.
"How can I calm down?" Jungkook snapped, frustration boiling under his skin. "Those idiots... Now they'll think they have the right to talk about him like that. I should’ve smashed their faces in."
Mingyu placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to ease the tension.
"Bro... did you see Taehyung? He probably feels even worse now," he said carefully. "He must be so embarrassed."
Jungkook froze, glancing around the corridor as if the walls themselves were listening.
"I didn’t want to lose control," Jungkook muttered, his fists clenching and unclenching. "But they just wouldn’t shut up. They kept saying those things about him..."
He looked at Mingyu, eyes filled with a strange desperation.
"Did he—did he even look at me?"
Mingyu shook his head slowly.
"No... He just kept staring at his table the whole time. Didn't lift his head once."
Jungkook opened his mouth to say something, but his words died when he caught sight of Taehyung, walking out of the cafeteria alone, his shoulders slumped low.
"Should I... Should I go after him?" Jungkook asked, unsure, his voice softer now. "He... he looks so sad."
Mingyu shrugged with a knowing look.
"If you want to. It's up to you."
Jungkook hesitated for a second, wrestling with himself. Then, without another word, he started walking after Taehyung.
He trailed him quietly, careful not to draw attention, and watched Taehyung slip into the restroom.
Jungkook lingered at the entrance for a second before pushing the door open and stepping inside.
Inside, he found Taehyung standing at the counter, washing his face.
Jungkook quietly moved to the sink beside him, turned on the tap, and began washing his hands—though he barely paid attention.
Instead, his gaze flickered to the side, drawn to Taehyung’s reflection in the mirror.
Taehyung looked so unaware, so quietly beautiful, like he didn't belong to the noise and cruelty of the world outside.
Jungkook’s heart clenched painfully.
I would give him the whole world if I could, he thought.
He was so lost staring that he didn’t realize how long he had been standing there until a soft voice broke his trance.
"I think you're wasting a lot of water," Taehyung said casually, eyes still on the running tap. Then he glanced sideways at Jungkook.
For a moment, Jungkook forgot how to breathe.
He... he looked at me. He spoke to me!
Snapping out of his daze, Jungkook hurriedly turned off the tap.
"S-Sorry," he stammered, voice cracking a little.
Taehyung gave him a small smile—just a tiny curve of his lips—and without another word, walked out of the restroom.
Jungkook stayed frozen for a second, then gripped the edge of the counter with one hand, the other clutching his chest.
"I can’t face him,Damn" he whispered to himself, laughing quietly in disbelief.
"He’s gonna be the death of me one day, for sure."
Shaking his head, he pushed off the counter and exited the restroom.
Mingyu spotted him immediately.
"Yo, Jungkook! So... what happened?" Mingyu asked, smirking.
Jungkook trudged toward him, head hanging low.
"Nothing. I... I couldn’t even look him in the eye, man," he mumbled. "Forget speaking."
Mingyu chuckled, throwing an arm around his shoulders.
"Bro, you're too whipped. At such a young age too."
Jungkook didn’t argue.
He knew Mingyu was right.
He was already far, far gone.
Without another word, the two of them walked back to their classroom.
"Guys, listen up!" the class president called out.
Jungkook and Mingyu, who were bickering at the back of the class as usual, immediately stopped and turned their heads toward the front.
"We have an event coming up," the president announced. "There'll be a lot of different activities. If anyone wants to participate, feel free to come forward."
Jungkook tapped his fingers on the desk, thinking for a moment. Then he raised his hand.
"Is there... any singing?"
The class president smiled. "Yeah, we have a singing segment too."
"I want to participate in that," Jungkook said confidently. "We can sing any song we want, right?"
"Yup. Any song you like."
Jungkook nodded, looking satisfied. Mingyu elbowed him in the side.
"You're seriously gonna sing?" Mingyu asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, why not?" Jungkook shrugged.
Mingyu narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Don't tell me... you're doing this because of Taehyung too?"
Jungkook shot him a look.
"No! You know I love singing," he said, trying to sound casual.
Mingyu just chuckled under his breath.
"Let's see then."
The class president clapped his hands to get everyone's attention again.
"The festival is scheduled for this coming Saturday," he announced.
Jungkook gave him a thumbs-up from across the room, his excitement hard to hide.
Jungkook cornered the class president again, practically bouncing on his heels.
"Why not?" Jungkook pleaded, his eyes wide with hope. "It'll be way more fun this way!"
The class president, Seokjin, rubbed his temples tiredly.
"Jungkook, it's not just our class participating. The senior classes are involved too. We need their approval for theme changes."
Jungkook leaned in closer, grinning mischievously.
"Come on, Seokjin-hyung. You're the epitome of persuasion! If anyone can convince them, it’s you."
Seokjin gave him a flat look.
"But why a masquerade theme? What's wrong with the regular festival?"
Jungkook gulped, trying to find the right words.
"It'll be boring otherwise," he mumbled. "Trust me, this theme will make the festival way more exciting."
Seokjin sighed dramatically, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Fine. I’ll talk to the senior class president."
"Yah, thanks bro!" Jungkook cheered, giving him a grateful pat on the back before running off down the hallway.
Seokjin just shook his head, watching him go.
"That kid's got way too much energy," he muttered to himself.
Saturday arrived faster than Jungkook expected, and he was beyond excited—thanks to Seokjin, who had managed to convince everyone to agree on a masquerade theme.
Now Jungkook stood in front of his wardrobe, debating what to wear for the festival. They had shifted the event to the evening to match the theme better.
Just then, his room door opened, and his mother stepped in.
"Ggukie, what are you wearing tonight? Have you decided yet?" she asked, smiling.
"No, Mom," Jungkook pouted. "Tell me, what should I wear?"
"Oh, my boy, you’re handsome in anything. Don’t worry, he’ll be impressed," she winked playfully.
"Mom!" Jungkook whined. "At least you should stop teasing me! Mingyu does it enough already!"
His mom chuckled. "Okay, okay, let me help. Hmm… what about an all-black look? You look really handsome in black."
Jungkook turned back to his wardrobe and pulled out a pair of black pants and a black turtleneck.
"This one?" he asked.
"Yeah! That looks perfect. Maybe add an outerwear piece too, like a jacket," she suggested. "Now, hurry and change. Mingyu’s waiting downstairs."
She patted his cheek affectionately and left.
Jungkook looked at himself in the mirror once more before heading to the bathroom.
Later, he came downstairs, finding Mingyu chatting with his mother in the living room.
"Let’s go! I’m ready," Jungkook called out.
Both turned to look at him.
"You look so handsome, Kook!" Mingyu exclaimed.
His mother agreed, making Jungkook chuckle proudly.
"I know," he said, flashing a grin.
After hugging his mom goodbye, they left for the venue.
When they arrived, they pulled out their themed masks that covered their eyes and nose. The place was lively, students laughing, eating, and roaming around.
Mingyu spoke up, "So, you’re going to sing today? You didn’t even tell me what song!"
Jungkook’s eyes scanned the crowd anxiously.
"It’s a surprise. I didn’t tell anyone," he replied.
Mingyu smirked, "Yeah, a surprise for your boy. Well, I don’t see him around. Maybe he didn’t come?"
Jungkook’s heart sank. He had done all this for Taehyung. If he didn’t show up, all of it would be meaningless.
He’s here somewhere, Jungkook tried to convince himself. Everyone’s wearing masks... he must be here.
"You’ll look for him?" Mingyu asked.
"Yeah, I’ll meet you later."
"Okay, I’ll be with our classmates," Mingyu waved him off.
Jungkook wandered through the crowd, glancing at everyone, growing more anxious by the second. Doubt started creeping in.
What if he doesn’t come?
Just then, the lights dimmed, and the stage lit up.
Seokjin appeared, grabbing everyone’s attention.
"Everyone, welcome to the masquerade theme party!" he announced.
Cheers erupted around Jungkook, but he couldn’t bring himself to clap. His heart was sinking.
"We’re going to have lots of fun tonight—singing, dancing, all of that! But first…" Seokjin grinned mischievously, "we’ll start with a couple’s dance!"
The room filled with laughter and playful murmuring.
"But we’re all boys!" someone shouted.
Seokjin laughed, "That’s the fun part! Pair up with whoever you want—it’s a masquerade after all. Masks hide everything!"
Jungkook stared at the floor, heart heavy. He wanted to leave.
Just as he turned toward the door, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned around—and froze.
Kim Taehyung stood before him, wearing a loose cardigan that clung effortlessly to his slim frame, a mask covering his face but not hiding those unforgettable eyes.
"Hey, you there?" Taehyung asked, tilting his head slightly.
"Y-yeah," Jungkook stuttered.
"Your friend said you didn’t have a partner, so… should we pair up?" Taehyung offered.
Jungkook glanced over Taehyung’s shoulder and spotted Mingyu grinning and winking at him—already paired up with Jimin.
Thank you, Mingyu, Jungkook thought.
"If you don’t want to, it’s okay—" Taehyung started.
"No, no, let’s pair up!" Jungkook quickly cut him off, holding out his hand.
Taehyung hesitated, then placed his hand in Jungkook’s.
Jungkook smirked and pulled Taehyung closer, causing him to gasp softly. Jungkook rested a hand gently on Taehyung’s waist.
The lights stayed dim as they began to dance. Jungkook never once took his eyes off Taehyung, utterly lost in him.
Meanwhile, Taehyung looked everywhere but at Jungkook, clearly awkward and giggling whenever their shoes accidentally touched, almost tripping.
Each of his little laughs stamped itself onto Jungkook’s heart forever.
Breaking the silence, Jungkook asked, "Which class are you in?"
"12th grade. You?" Taehyung replied.
"11th. You’re my senior, then."
"Oh, yeah," Taehyung said, a little smile playing on his lips. "Your voice sounds familiar. Have we met before?"
"Maybe," Jungkook said shyly, then added, "You know… you’re beautiful. You look unreal."
Taehyung froze, looking at Jungkook through the mask. Jungkook immediately panicked inside.
Damn it, Kook, you made him uncomfortable!
But then, Taehyung giggled again—soft and sad.
"When you see me without a mask, you’ll definitely change your mind," he said with a bittersweet smile.
Jungkook’s heart squeezed painfully. He tightened his hold on Taehyung’s hand.
"Trust me," Jungkook whispered, "You’re beautiful without the mask too."
Taehyung blinked at him, eyes glassy, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face.
Before Jungkook could say more, the music faded and everyone began switching partners. Taehyung pulled his hand away and turned to leave.
But Jungkook caught his wrist.
"Hey!" he called.
Taehyung turned back, confused.
"I’m singing tonight," Jungkook said. "And the song… it’s for you."
Taehyung stared at him, stunned.
Before he could reply, Jungkook smiled and ran off toward the stage.
Jimin appeared next to Taehyung, laughing.
"Man, the guy I danced with was hilarious. Made me laugh so much!" Jimin said.
Taehyung barely heard him, still staring after Jungkook.
"You okay?" Jimin nudged him.
"Yeah… yeah," Taehyung mumbled.
Taehyung, still lost in thought, said nothing.
They didn’t even exchange names.
Suddenly, the announcement for singing echoed.
Taehyung spotted the boy stepping on stage, guitar in hand, mask still hiding half his face.
The lights dimmed again.
The boy's words still lingered in Taehyung’s heart: the song is for you.
His heart swelled.
Jungkook, on the stage, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and strummed the guitar strings.
He started singing.
(Listen to "Double Take" by Dhruv for a better experience.)
I could say I never dare
To think about you in that way, but
I would be lyin'
Jungkook didn’t open his eyes.
He imagined Taehyung standing right in front of him — that soft giggle, those sad smiles, those beautiful, unforgettable eyes.
And I pretend I'm happy for you
When you find some dude to take home
But I won't deny that
In the midst of the crowds
In the shapes in the clouds
I don't see nobody but you
In my rose-tinted dreams
Wrinkled silk on my sheets
I don't see nobody but you
His voice trembled slightly with emotions.
He didn’t care if the crowd was listening.
All he cared was that Taehyung was listening.
Boy, you got me hooked onto something
Who could say that they saw us coming?
Tell me
Do you feel the love?
Spend a summer or a lifetime with me
Let me take you to the place of your dreams
Tell me
Do you feel the love?
Jungkook was pouring all his heart out.
He clutched the guitar tighter, blinking back tears behind his mask.
And I could say I never unzipped
Those blue Levi's inside my head
But that's far from the truth
Don't know what's come over me
It seems like yesterday when I said
"We'll be friends forever"
Jungkook opened his eyes — only to see the boy standing among the crowd.
The boy who owned his heart.
Constellations of stars
Murals on city walls
I don't see nobody but you
You're my vice, you're my muse
You're a nineteenth floor view
I don't see nobody but you
Tears welled up in his eyes.
He was thankful for the mask hiding them.
Boy, you got me hooked onto something
Who could say that they saw us coming?
Tell me
Do you feel the love?
Spend a summer or a lifetime with me
Let me take you to the place of your dreams
Tell me
Do you feel the love?
The last words of the song hung heavily in the air.
Feel the love
Do you feel the love?
And Jungkook smiled through his tears.
Oh, he felt all the love in the world for Taehyung.
And he was sure —
Even if Taehyung broke his heart a thousand times...
he would never, ever stop feeling this love.
Chapter 14: Falling
Chapter Text
And it kills me
'cause I know we've run
out of things we can say
Resistance-a simple word, yet powerful enough to keep you confined within the boundaries you've built around yourself. Not to protect you from pain, but to protect others from the pain you might unknowingly cause.
We hide ourselves-our pain, our love, our tears. In short, every emotion we feel, we bury it deep. Not just to protect our own heart, but sometimes to protect others from the storm we carry inside.
Maybe it's because we're so broken that we believe anyone who enters our world will eventually become miserable like us.
That's the case with Jungkook.
His resistance didn't begin with his family tragedy. He had been using it long before that. Not because he couldn't feel, but because he felt too deeply.
He feared that if he allowed too much happiness-especially the kind Taehyung brought into his life-he would end up with even greater pain when it was taken away.
So instead of risking that devastation later, he chose the safer pain-one that hurt less, now.
He didn't resist because he didn't love.
He resisted because he loved too much.
But everything has an end-and for him, that end was now.
Now, when he finally realized that if he didn't break the chains he'd forged around his heart,
he would lose everything.
If he didn't crush those walls this time,
he wouldn't be able to save what mattered most.
The first time Jungkook saw Taehyung,
he simply thought-he's beautiful.
But as time passed, each glance felt like a dagger,
a gentle kind of pain that only deepened with every passing day.
He began to drown in moments-
moments where he could only watch him from a distance,
finding comfort in stolen glimpses,
in silences too loud to bear.
Then fate, as cruel as it is clever,
took Taehyung further from him-
so far that even reaching felt like a sin.
So Jungkook, in his quiet despair,
built stronger walls, higher than before,
convinced that this was the end.
That maybe, this time, he had finally lost him.
But do we ever truly get what we want,
or are we just players in the games fate plays with us?
Because Taehyung returned.
Returned like the wind that slips in through cracks in sealed windows,
like a whisper that refuses to be silenced.
And Jungkook-foolish, hopeful, aching-
twisted again into the same web of longing.
Every time he let go, fate pulled him closer.
Every time he held on, fate tore him down.
When he told himself Taehyung was no longer his,
fate handed him hope.
When he tried to hold onto that hope,
fate shoved him into the pit of his own fears.
It was a cycle.
A cruel, beautiful, heartbreaking cycle.
And he was trapped in it-because love,
real love, never truly lets go.
He sat on the floor of his room, back resting against the edge of the bed, one leg stretched out, the other bent with his arm draped over the knee with a pen in his hand and the other holding a journel. Eyes closed, yet his mind wide awake.
Sleep had never come-not even for a moment.
Neither had he stepped out to check on Taehyung.
Why would he?
Taehyung consider him a stranger, just a man he worked for.
Just a name, just a presence-just a CEO whose help he needed for his family.
No more, no less.
At least, that's what he kept telling himself.
The sharp trill of the alarm pierced the silence.
He opened his eyes.
7:00 AM.
Another day.
Another lie to carry on his shoulders.
He stood, walked to the bathroom, took a long bath-as if water could wash away the ache lodged in his chest.
Dressed in simple sweatpants and a blank expression, he faced the door.
His fingers curled around the knob.
A slow inhale. A longer exhale.
Eyes shut, and then open.
Click.
He descended the stairs.
Everything was still.
Untouched.
As if the previous night had been nothing more than a figment of his weary mind.
His gaze shifted to the guest room.
A silent war inside him.
Should he check?
He didn't decide-his feet did.
Drawn by a force older than logic.
He stood outside the room.
Another doorknob. Another hesitation.
Then he opened it.
And there-on the bed, like a piece of his soul misplaced by time-lay Taehyung.
So still, so quiet, as if the world had forgotten him.
Jungkook moved without thought.
One step. Then another.
Until he stood near the bed, eyes fixed on the man who felt like home to him.
Taehyung lay facing him, breathing soft, lashes like shadows across his cheek.
Jungkook didn't blink.
Couldn't.
His heart screamed in silence.
A tear slipped down his cheek.
His hand rose, trembling, toward Taehyung's.
Paused in midair-
so close...
but he pulled back.
Afraid his touch might shatter them both.
Without a word, without a sound, he turned and left the room.
The door clicked shut behind him.
And Taehyung opened his eyes.
Hollow and silent,
he stared at the closed door
from where his CEO had just walked away.
Jungkook stepped out of the room and into the kitchen, dragging his feet slightly, he inhaled sharply. Just as he reached for a pan, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
He pulled it out, thumb sliding across the screen.
Mingyu:
Documents are ready. When do you want them?
Jungkook: Today.
Mingyu: Where?
Jungkook: My apartment.
Mingyu: Ok boss, will be at your door at 10. See you :)
With a deep exhale, Jungkook tossed his phone back into his sweatpants pocket and turned to the stove. The clink of cutlery and the sizzle of oil soon filled the silence. Until-
A soft shuffle.
The faintest breath behind him.
He didn't turn. He didn't need to. He knew.
Then-
"Mr. Jeon..."
The voice was quiet, almost fragile, like a thread unraveling.
Jungkook closed his eyes briefly. He opened them, masking everything behind that cold calm. He turned slowly, gaze unreadable.
"Yes?" he said, voice even, but lacking warmth.
"I'm... sorry," Taehyung whispered, voice shaky.
"For what?" Jungkook asked, arms crossing over his chest.
"Yesterday... I-I was... I think I went overboard," Taehyung murmured, eyes flickering downward.
"Can you elaborate?" Jungkook's tone was firm, yet not cruel-just controlled.
Taehyung blinked, caught off guard. "I barged into your apartment then-"
"Did you freshen up?" Jungkook interrupted, voice flat.
"Huh?" Taehyung asked, confused. Then his eyes widened. "Oh-yes. I did."
"Then come and eat," Jungkook said without looking at him, placing a plate on the table.
Taehyung stood frozen for a beat, trying to read him. Was he really not angry?
Slowly, cautiously, he walked over and sat down.
The silence settled again-heavy, awkward-until Jungkook broke it, his voice low but direct.
"Where do you want to send your family?"
Taehyung stilled, fork halfway to his mouth. His chest tightened. "Just... somewhere safe," he said softly, eyes not meeting Jungkook's.
Jungkook gave a small nod. "Hmm."
Taehyung hesitated before asking, almost in a whisper, "Will you really help me?"
Jungkook's jaw flexed, but he kept his voice calm. "You said you'd do whatever I asked in return. It's not a bad deal."
Deal. The word echoed in Taehyung's head, making his stomach turn.
His voice trembled as he asked, "So... what do you want in return?"
Jungkook paused. His gaze shifted to Taehyung-and in that moment, his mask cracked. Just a flicker. But Taehyung saw it.
Then-softly, deliberately-Jungkook spoke.
"What if I want you?"
Taehyung blinked. "Huh?"
"Tell me, Mr. Kim." Jungkook leaned back slightly, eyes dark and unreadable. "What if you are what I want in return?"
"I... I don't understand," Taehyung stammered, trying to laugh it off, but his hands clenched under the table.
Jungkook didn't speak.
He just stared at Taehyung-quiet, unmoving. His eyes searched the other's face as if trying to read something buried deep.
Then finally, voice low and steady, barely above a whisper, he asked,
"Are you afraid?"
The question knocked the breath out of Taehyung's lungs.
Was he afraid?
He didn't know.
But his heart whispered something else-Jungkook won't hurt you.
"No... I'm not," Taehyung replied softly, almost like a secret.
Jungkook narrowed his eyes, not convinced. His voice remained calm but firmer this time.
"Will you give me anything I want?"
Taehyung's eyes met his-and for a moment, he was lost.
How could someone be so complicated and yet so easy to trust at the same time?
One moment, Jungkook felt like a stranger-
The next, he felt like home.
Taehyung's heart stammered with thoughts he couldn't name. He's just being kind. That's all.
A faint smile ghosted his lips as he lowered his gaze to the plate.
"Mr. Jeon... I don't have anything precious to give you," he murmured.
Under the table, Jungkook's hands clenched into tight fists against his thighs. His knuckles turned white.
He kept staring at Taehyung-silent, unreadable.
Taehyung looked up once-met his gaze-
Then quickly dropped his eyes again and began eating in quiet bites.
Jungkook said nothing. Not a word.
But he didn't look away.
His eyes stayed fixed on the boy across from him like a silent storm waiting to break.
Then-
Ding-dong.
The sudden ring of the doorbell sliced through the tension.
Jungkook blinked slowly, as if waking from a trance.
He stood wordlessly and walked toward the door.
As he opened it, a loud voice bounced in-
"Hey, my buddy!" Mingyu stepped in with a grin-
Then froze.
His eyes landed on Taehyung. His brows lifted, a smirk blooming.
"Oh... Jungkook..."
Jungkook shot him a warning glare. "If you say anything, I will kill you."
"Omo-don't be cruel," Mingyu gasped playfully, clutching his chest like a drama actor.
He turned to Taehyung with a friendly smile. "Taehyung, how are you?"
Taehyung stood, bowed politely. "I'm fine, Mr. Kim."
"Oh, come on," Mingyu chuckled. "Don't be that formal."
Taehyung only offered a faint smile.
He then turned toward Jungkook. "I should leave now, Mr. Jeon."
Jungkook didn't say anything.
He just stared at Taehyung-quietly, intently.
Taehyung, feeling the weight of that gaze, slowly averted his eyes.
His fingers twitched nervously in his lap.
Why is he staring like that? What's happening to him?
The silence was pressing, like a rope tightening softly around his chest.
Then Jungkook's voice cut through the still air-low, calm, but final.
"Just wait for today. I'll arrange everything."
Taehyung's eyes lifted to meet his. Something trembled behind his lashes-unshed tears shimmering in defiance.
But he blinked them back, straightening himself.
"Thank you, Mr. Jeon," he whispered, voice soft and sincere.
He took a breath.
"I'll repay you with anything..."
The words fell from his lips like a quiet promise.
With that, he gave a small bow, polite and distant, and turned to leave.
As the apartment door clicked softly behind him, the morning air greeted him like a balm.
It was crisp, fresh, almost too cold-but for the first time in a long while, Taehyung didn't mind.
The tension in his chest loosened slightly, just enough to feel his heart blooming again.
There's hope... maybe, he thought.
He hailed a taxi and gave Jimin's address, still clutching the warmth of that conversation in his chest.
Inside the apartment, Jungkook remained frozen by the door, eyes still fixed on the place where Taehyung had stood just seconds ago.
He didn't move until a sharp voice dragged him back.
"You know I want to smack your face right now?"
Mingyu's voice was half teasing, half frustrated as he stepped into the living room.
Jungkook turned slowly, lips parting, but he didn't meet Mingyu's eyes.
His voice came out dry, empty.
"The documents?"
Mingyu stared at him-disbelieving, deadpan.
"Really?" he scoffed.
"I was up the whole damn night after your call, worried sick-and now you're back to being stone cold? Jungkook, come on."
Jungkook still didn't look at him. His eyes lingered somewhere distant-almost hollow.
Mingyu's expression softened as he sighed and stepped forward.
"Let's talk to Taehyung. Tell him you know him from school. Tell him how you-"
But Jungkook cut him off, his voice hoarse now, cracking faintly at the end.
"Then what? What good would that do? He won't believe me. He doesn't even know me properly. I'm just his boss... nothing more."
The silence that followed hung heavy in the room.
Then Mingyu stepped forward and pulled Jungkook into a hug-tight, grounding.
He patted his back slowly.
"You're not just his boss, Jungkook. Not to him. Maybe not yet, but... he looked at you differently."
Jungkook didn't answer. He closed his eyes briefly, the tension in his shoulders folding inward.
Mingyu pulled back and reached into his bag, retrieving a folder.
"Anyway, I arranged everything you asked for."
He handed over the file.
Jungkook took it slowly, fingers brushing the edge before opening it. His eyes traced every line of the documents inside-legal forms, IDs, travel plans-all set perfectly.
Still staring at the papers, he spoke, voice quiet again.
"Am I being selfish?"
Mingyu frowned.
"Are you stupid?" he said bluntly.
"Why are you even thinking like that?"
Jungkook closed the file gently, holding it against his chest.
His gaze dropped to the floor.
"I don't know..." he whispered.
He truly didn't.
The taxi came to a halt just outside the familiar building. Taehyung stepped out slowly, eyes scanning the modest entrance as the breeze tousled his hair. There was a strange comfort in this morning light - like it was trying to tell him he made the right choice.
He inhaled deeply and walked up, pressing the bell.
The door opened in seconds.
"Tae!" Jimin's eyes widened in visible relief.
He pulled him into a tight hug without hesitation.
"You okay? You didn't even text last night."
Taehyung sank into the hug briefly before nodding.
"Yeah... sorry. It was a long night."
Inside, his mother was seated beside his sister, who was resting in her wheelchair by the window, a soft blanket over her lap. At the sight of Taehyung, her face lit up with a tired but bright smile.
"There you are," she said softly, voice warm.
Taehyung walked over, bending down to hug her gently.
"Noona... how are you feeling?"
"Better, now that you're here," she whispered, brushing his hair affectionately.
"Don't just disappear like that again."
He looked to his mother next and touched her hand with a quiet smile.
"Everything's going to be okay. I promise."
Jimin stood behind them, folding his arms.
"Mind telling me what's going on now?" he asked, not unkindly, but with concern.
"You dropped them off last night and vanished. Where have you been? And what are you even planning, Tae?"
Taehyung stepped back, rubbing his hands together nervously.
He looked at Jimin, then down at the floor.
"I've been staying at someone's place... Jungkook's" he said carefully.
Jimin raised an eyebrow.
"Wait. Your CEO? He's doing all that?"
Taehyung gave a hesitant nod.
"Yeah. Mr. Jeon. He's... different, Jimin. I don't understand him completely, but-he hasn't done anything to make me doubt him. He's kind, in his own way."
Jimin leaned back slightly, digesting the information.
"You barely know him, Tae."
"I know," Taehyung admitted.
"But I feel like... he won't let anything happen to them. I just- I have to trust someone, at least once. For them."
Jimin sighed, his expression softening.
"Alright. If you're sure about him, then I'll keep them here until everything's arranged. Just don't shoulder this alone, okay?"
Taehyung smiled, a little more relaxed now.
"Thanks, Jimin. Really."
"Yeah, yeah," Jimin muttered, turning toward the kitchen.
Taehyung looked over at his sister again, her eyes tired but peaceful, and his heart loosened a little.
The wind brushed lightly against Taehyung's face as he stepped onto the narrow balcony. His thoughts had been a whirlwind ever since he arrived-memories, faces, fears-all colliding into one heavy silence. He leaned on the railing, eyes unfocused on the street below, when a soft buzz shook him from within.
His phone vibrated.
He glanced down, and the name on the screen made him still completely.
Jeon Jungkook.
His fingers tightened around the phone. For a moment, he just stared. Then, with a sharp inhale, he answered and pressed the phone to his ear.
"Hello," he said, voice quiet, controlled.
A deep, composed voice answered from the other end,
"Everything is ready. If you allow, they can leave tomorrow."
There was a pause.
Taehyung didn't answer immediately.
A part of him felt like this moment should bring relief-freedom, even. His family would be safe. His sister, his mother-they wouldn't have to live in fear or uncertainty anymore.
But now, standing alone on this balcony, the silence in his heart was loud.
He was going to be alone again.
He swallowed.
Gratitude twisted into something heavier. Debt. And... fear.
How would he ever repay this?
"Mr. Kim?" Jungkook's voice came again, breaking his spiral.
"Yes, I-" he began, but Jungkook cut in.
"Do you want to leave too?"
"...Huh?" Taehyung blinked.
"I'll arrange for you as well. If you want."
Jungkook's voice was softer now-less like a CEO, more like something vulnerable, something offering.
The silence that followed was thick.
Taehyung stared ahead, his heart thudding in his ears.
Why would Jungkook ask that?
Why... did the idea of leaving suddenly feel suffocating?
"If I leave, then how will I repay you?" he asked, his voice low.
There was a pause.
"Except that," Jungkook said slowly, "do you have any reason to stay? If I told you there's nothing to repay... would you go?"
Taehyung hesitated.
He shut his eyes.
He saw the way Jungkook had looked at him the night before-calm, unreadable-but in those moments, Taehyung had seen something... something close to longing.
He took a breath.
"No," he whispered.
"Why?"
Taehyung opened his eyes again.
The street below looked different now, like it stretched forever.
"I think... I have someone here who needs me."
A long beat of silence.
"So you'll stay just because you think someone needs you? You're not even sure."
Taehyung exhaled shakily.
"So what? You think I should leave?"
"Why are you asking me?" Jungkook asked, his voice unreadable.
"You should ask that person."
Taehyung's lips quirked slightly, almost a smile.
"Hmm... I'll text him. Then I'll let you know."
"...Okay." And the line went dead.
The apartment was quiet-too quiet. The hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen was the only sound filling the still air. Jungkook sat on the edge of his couch, phone still in hand, head bowed slightly as if the conversation had physically weighed him down.
He hadn't moved since the call ended.
A heavy sigh slipped past his lips as he rubbed his temples.
He wasn't sure what he expected from that exchange. Maybe clarity. Maybe... closure. But instead, Taehyung's voice lingered in his ears like a song stuck on repeat.
"I think I have someone here who needs me."
Those words echoed.
And for a terrifying second, Jungkook felt like he had already lost.
Who is it? Is it someone from his past? Is it someone new? Was I ever even in the running?
His chest felt tight. His fingers curled around the edge of his phone.
And then-
Buzz.
His phone lit up.
One message.
Taehyung: Should I leave, Mr. Jeon?
Jungkook stared at it.
His heart stopped, then stumbled, like it couldn't decide how to keep beating.
Him. It's me.
Taehyung was talking about him.
The realization hit like a soft wave-but one that still knocked the air out of his lungs.
For a moment, all he could do was stare. The world around him quieted, sharpened. The lamp's amber light seemed to grow warmer, the air heavier.
He immediately pressed the call button.
Ring. Ring. Click.
"Hello?" came Taehyung's soft voice. Calm. Unsure. Like he already knew why Jungkook was calling, but was still waiting to hear it from him.
Jungkook didn't breathe for a second.
Then, his voice came out raw, barely above a whisper.
"Mr. Kim... it's me?"
There was silence.
Jungkook's throat burned.
And then Taehyung spoke, his tone shifting slightly, trying to cushion the awkwardness-"Uhm... When we talked at your apartment, I noticed you might've needed help with something. You came into the room in the morning but didn't say anything. Then you just left so..."
Jungkook closed his eyes, head falling back against the couch cushion.
So that was why.
Not because of the lingering tension. Not because of some unsaid confession.
A dry laugh escaped him, bitter and aching.
"Right," he said, voice flat.
He opened his eyes again, gazing at the ceiling like it held the answers he couldn't say out loud.
Taehyung hadn't meant the message the way Jungkook hoped. It wasn't about feelings. It was concern. Maybe guilt. Maybe kindness.
But even still...
He had messaged.
He had asked.
"Should I leave, Mr. Jeon?"
And that alone-meant everything.
Jungkook didn't say anything more. He just sat there with the phone pressed to his ear, Taehyung's breath soft on the line. Neither of them hung up.
Sometimes, even silence is a language of its own.
The sky outside the large window had darkened, hues of deep blue and violet painting the glass. The city buzzed quietly beyond, but inside the apartment, time felt still.
And in the hush between them, Jungkook allowed himself to believe-just for a moment-that maybe he hadn't lost him. Not yet.
Chapter 15: The truth untold
Chapter Text
The morning sun filtered gently through the sheer curtains, casting a pale glow across the modest living room. The light was soft, almost hesitant-like it, too, was afraid to disturb the quiet tension that hung in the air.
Taehyung sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor, just beside the worn-out sofa where his mother sat, her eyes tired yet still searching his face like she could memorize him. His hand was wrapped around hers, fingers trembling slightly.
There was a strange peace in his heart-a kind of stillness he hadn't felt in years. Maybe it was because, for once, there was a plan. A way out. Safety, even if it meant separation.
"I hope this time..." he said softly, eyes brimming, "I will succeed. For your safety."
His voice cracked mid-sentence.
His mother let out a soft sob. "Taehyung... how can we leave you here alone? What if he comes again? What if he tries to hurt you?" Her voice was thick with worry.
Taehyung smiled, even as tears gathered in his lashes. "I'm not that eighteen-year-old anymore, Eomma. I'm not weak now. I promise."
A soft sniffle came from the wheelchair beside them. His sister, her hands folded neatly in her lap, stared down at them with glossy eyes.
"Taehyung... I'm sorry." Her voice was fragile.
Taehyung turned immediately, his free hand reaching out to cover hers.
"Noona," he whispered, "you are my strength. Always. You don't need to apologize. You've fought enough already. Now it's time to win. Focus on your surgery, and next time we meet, you'll be walking to hug me, okay?"
Her lips trembled, but she nodded. "I will, Taehyung. I will." She leaned forward and pulled him into a tight embrace. Their mother wrapped her arms around them both, and for a moment, the room was filled with the sound of quiet sobs and the unspoken ache of goodbye.
Across the room, Jimin sat silently on the edge of the sofa, wiping away a stray tear. He watched his friend-this boy who once used to laugh in school corridors, who now carried the weight of the world on his shoulders-still standing, still protecting.
Pride swelled in his chest, tangled with sorrow.
"Okay," Taehyung cleared his throat, breaking the moment gently, "you both should get going. The flight's in two hours, and we need to be on time."
Just then, the doorbell rang.
"I'll check," Jimin stood, brushing his palms on his jeans, "you all get ready. I'll book a taxi too."
He padded to the door and pulled it open.
A man, dressed in a sleek black suit and wearing sunglasses, stood on the other side, talking into a phone.
"Yeah, I think it's the place you told me about," the man said, then looked at Jimin. "Let me confirm. Hey-this Park Jimin's apartment?"
Jimin blinked, confused. The man looked too formal, like he belonged more at a boardroom than a small apartment entrance.
"Yes... I'm Jimin. And you are?"
The man slid his sunglasses off smoothly, revealing sharp eyes and a tired but composed expression. He extended a hand.
"Min Yoongi. I'm a friend of Jungkook's. He has a meeting, so he asked me to help with the airport arrangements for Kim Taehyung's family."
Jimin stared at the offered hand a moment too long, then finally shook it. The stranger's features were calm but unreadable. Still, there was something disarming about him.
"Jimin," he said slowly. "I'm Jimin."
Just then, Taehyung walked into the hallway. "Hey, Jimin, we should-" he stopped as soon as he spotted the guest.
"Oh! Mr. Min? What a surprise." Taehyung stepped forward, offering a warm smile. They'd met briefly at the company party. Yoongi had been polite but mostly observant-hard to read.
"I wasn't expecting you."
Yoongi glanced at him, then at Jimin, and his lips curled into a knowing smirk.
"I'm here on Jungkook's behalf. He wanted to ensure everything was handled personally, even if he couldn't make it." His gaze flickered between Jimin and Taehyung. "Should we get going?"
Taehyung smiled, but there was a quiet sting in his chest. A part of him had hoped-just a little-that Jungkook would come. That he'd see them off. Maybe he was being selfish. Jungkook had done more than enough. Still... the absence hurt more than he thought it would.
But he masked it well. "Of course. Thank you for coming, Mr. Min."
Yoongi gave him a small nod.
Jimin was still oddly quiet beside them. Yoongi looked at him and smirked again. "Jimin-ssi... you can let go of my hand now."
Jimin's eyes widened-he was still holding it. "Ah! Sorry!" he blurted, yanking his hand back, cheeks turning pink.
Taehyung chuckled softly, a bit of the tension melting in his chest. He's definitely going to tease Jimin later.
The ride to the airport was quiet, filled with silent glances and thoughts none of them spoke aloud. Jimin sat beside Yoongi in the front seat, stealing occasional glances at him, still unsure about this oddly charming man who appeared out of nowhere.
Yoongi, to his credit, kept his eyes on the road, but there was a subtle tension between them-something unsaid, hanging in the air like static.
In the backseat, Taehyung sat between his mother and sister, holding their hands tightly. He didn't speak much. He just looked at them, memorizing every line of their faces, the way the light hit their features.
He thought of Jungkook again.
He pictured him in some tall building, lost in meetings and decisions, unaware that Taehyung's chest was aching in that moment-not out of fear, but out of longing.
Will he was thinking of me too?
Or was this just a debt for him?
And if it was... why did it feel like more?
The airport was bustling with movement, announcements echoing overhead, wheels of luggage rolling, children crying, and a constant rush of people moving in all directions.
But for Taehyung, the world moved in slow motion.
He stood with his arms around his mother and sister, the final boarding call ringing through the terminal. His sister clung to him tighter than she ever had.
"Don't forget to call," she whispered.
"Every day," Taehyung smiled, voice thick.
His mother kissed his forehead. "Stay strong, my son."
"I will," he promised.
Yoongi gently gestured it was time. With one last squeeze, Taehyung let go.
He stood there, hands in his pockets, watching as they moved through the gates-his entire world walking away.
Jimin came beside him, wordless, just offering his silent presence.
"Thank you," Taehyung said quietly.
Jimin nodded. "For what?"
"For staying," Taehyung murmured. "And for letting me breathe today."
The flight took off twenty minutes later.
And as the plane disappeared into the clouds, Taehyung turned away.
Behind him, Yoongi leaned against a pillar, arms folded, watching silently.
And ahead of him was a life he didn't understand anymore.
But he had chosen to stay.
Because someone might need him.
And maybe, just maybe-that someone was beginning to need him too.
The soft tick of the antique clock on the wall was the only sound in Jungkook's vast office until the elevator dinged.
He stood up from his chair the moment his grandfather entered, flanked by his ever-smirking uncle, Soo Hyun.
"Grandfather," Jungkook greeted with a slight bow.
Chairman Jeon's gaze was heavy as he stepped forward. Though his pace had slowed with age, his presence was still commanding.
"You don't look like you've been sleeping enough," the Chairman said, eyeing his grandson from head to toe. "Running a company doesn't mean running yourself into the ground."
"I'm managing," Jungkook replied calmly, though his hands twitched behind his back. "Thank you for coming."
The Chairman sat in the guest seat across from Jungkook's desk. Soo Hyun, with an air of casual ownership, made himself comfortable on the side.
"There's something more important than quarterly reports today," the Chairman began.
Jungkook braced himself.
"We need to talk about your future."
Here it comes.
"You're in your mid 20s. It's time we finalize your marriage."
Jungkook's jaw clenched. He had known this conversation would resurface, but not this soon-not after everything that's been going on.
"I already told you," Jungkook replied, measured. "My focus right now is stabilizing the company after your transition. I don't have time-"
"You don't need time to get married," Soo Hyun interrupted with a smug grin. "Yena is ready. My family has been nothing but patient. She'll make a lovely wife-obedient, educated, well-connected. Everything this family needs."
Jungkook's eyes flickered, jaw flexing. He turned to his grandfather.
"I've already made my stance clear, Grandfather."
"And I gave you time, didn't I?" the Chairman replied firmly. "But time runs out, Jungkook. You need someone beside you. This company, this family, needs security. Yena is a smart choice."
A cold pause settled between them.
Jungkook drew in a breath, held it, and released it slowly. He forced his voice to remain even.
"With all due respect, I do not believe a strategic marriage ensures security. My capabilities should be enough."
Soo Hyun chuckled lightly, leaning back. "Capabilities don't warm your bed or expand your influence, nephew. Let's not act like love matters in business."
Jungkook's hand twitched at his side, curling into a fist. He kept his gaze locked on the Chairman.
"I've made it clear before. I don't wish to marry for convenience."
The old man's eyes narrowed.
"This is not about convenience. It's about legacy."
Jungkook's voice was lower now, tight with restraint.
"And I am building it. Without sacrificing my will."
There was a long silence.
The Chairman studied his grandson. Behind him, Soo Hyun smirked, clearly enjoying the push.
But Jungkook didn't flinch. He wouldn't. Not after everything he had endured. Not when his heart-though broken and conflicted-still refused to be handed over for a transaction.
Finally, the Chairman rose.
"You've always been stubborn," he said. "But don't confuse independence with defiance. I won't ask again for some time. But think carefully, Jungkook."
He turned, motioning for Soo Hyun to follow. The older man paused at the door, turning just slightly.
"She's a sweet girl," Soo Hyun added. "Yena will be happy with you, even if you aren't with her."
Jungkook didn't reply. His silence was colder than any words.
Taehyung's face-his smile, his voice, his warmth-flashed in his mind.
And the storm inside him grew just a little stronger.
His grandfather's words still echoed in his mind, but his eyes were unreadable-cold on the outside, turbulent within.
"Grandfather," he said, turning before the older man reached the door. "I'd like to speak with you. Alone."
The Chairman paused, glancing between his grandson and Soo Hyun. Then, with a faint nod, he gestured for Soo Hyun to step out. The door clicked softly behind them.
The door opened again a few moments later, revealing Mingyu and Yoongi entering together. Both looked sharp, Yoongi in his typical calm and composed demeanor, Mingyu with a casual but polished look, a contrast to the heaviness that still lingered in the air.
Yoongi handed a document folder to Jungkook, then leaned against the armrest of the sofa.
"I took care of everything," Yoongi said, in his usual no-nonsense tone. "Airport formalities, security, documentation. Your family is safe. And Taehyung's here. He's in the office now-settled in his cabin, reviewing files for the day."
A flicker of emotion crossed Jungkook's face at the mention of Taehyung. He masked it quickly with a quiet nod.
"Thank you," he said, voice low.
Mingyu, who had been watching him closely, stepped forward with a half-grin and slightly raised eyebrows.
"Now that we've ensured Taehyung's safe and the company's running smooth, can we shift focus to another pressing matter?"
Jungkook raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"
"You know what I'm talking about." Mingyu smirked. "Yena."
Jungkook's expression subtly hardened.
"She likes me," Mingyu continued, unfazed. "And I-well, I think I've liked her for a while now. I know you two were... involved in this arrangement thing, but honestly, man-let's not keep dragging this."
Yoongi glanced between them, silent but intrigued.
"She deserves to be with someone who really wants her," Mingyu added. "You know it. And you... you're clearly elsewhere."
There was a long pause.
Jungkook finally looked at Mingyu, face unreadable, but his voice was steady.
"I've already spoken to my grandfather."
Mingyu leaned in, blinking. "You did? What did you say?"
Jungkook didn't look away.
"I said everything that needed to be said. Everything will be settled properly."
Mingyu frowned. "Properly as in?"
"No one will be sad, Mingyu," Jungkook said firmly, his eyes distant. "Don't worry."
Mingyu studied him. There was something about Jungkook's tone-like he wasn't just talking about the marriage or Yena, but something deeper, something heavier. But he didn't press.
Instead, he let out a breath and gave him a nod. "Alright. I trust you."
Yoongi gave Jungkook a knowing look but didn't say a word.
Jungkook turned back to the window once they left, a flicker of exhaustion passing over his features.
Outside, the city moved like clockwork.
Inside, his heart wasn't.
The golden light of the setting sun slanted through the blinds, painting long streaks across the floor. Jungkook stood still, facing the window, arms crossed, his silhouette rigid-like he had been holding in more than just air.
A knock came. Soft, hesitant.
"Come in," he said, not turning.
Taehyung entered, a file in his hand, his expression composed, but there was something faintly tired in his eyes. The kind of tired that comes after too much emotion held too tightly for too long.
"This is the finalized design for the new site," he said, stepping forward and placing it gently on the desk. "The client approved the adjustments. It just needs your confirmation now."
Silence.
Jungkook didn't move, and Taehyung stood there, uncertain. A breath passed.
"...Mr. Jeon?" he asked quietly.
Stillness cracked.
"Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice was low-softer than expected, with a thread of hesitation woven into the calm.
Taehyung looked down for a beat, then answered, "Yes... a little sad," he admitted, before lifting his eyes again, a faint smile pressing into his lips. "But happy, too. Thank you, Mr. Jeon. I don't know how to thank you for everything."
Finally, Jungkook turned.
His eyes-usually sharp and unreadable-looked distant now. Hollow. Empty of the fleeting warmth they had carried just a day ago. Taehyung's smile faltered briefly at the sight, but he held his composure.
Jungkook's gaze didn't waver as he spoke.
"If you really want to repay me... there's one way."
Taehyung tilted his head slightly, confused. "What way?"
Jungkook didn't hesitate. "Marry me."
Taehyung's body froze. "Huh...?"
"Don't worry. It's just a paper marriage," Jungkook clarified, voice steady but distant. "For company shares. That's all. You can ask for a divorce whenever you want."
Taehyung struggled to comprehend, his thoughts whirring. His chest tightened slightly.
"Is this... is this the reason you needed me?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. "To protect the company?"
Jungkook didn't answer that.
Instead, Taehyung's eyes lowered before he softly asked, "But... what about you and Ms. Yena? You two are supposed to get married."
There was a pause.
Then Jungkook spoke again, firm and sincere.
"Yena is going to marry the one she loves."
That answer lingered in the air between them-simple, quiet, but laced with finality. It made something in Taehyung's chest ache.
He looked down, smiled faintly, and whispered, "I just need to sign the papers, right?" He looked back up, the smile still there, a soft disguise. "Okay... I'll do it."
Jungkook gave a quiet hum in response.
Taehyung nodded once, then turned to leave. But as his hand reached for the doorknob, Jungkook's voice came again.
"Till our contract ends... can we stay together?"
Taehyung's hand paused on the knob. His shoulders stiffened.
He didn't turn. For a moment, it seemed he couldn't.
Then, after a few heartbeats, he replied, voice low and restrained, as if carefully holding himself together.
"...I'll do as you say."
Jungkook nodded slowly, though Taehyung couldn't see it.
"I'll pick you up tonight," he added. "You can pack whatever you need."
Another moment passed.
Then Taehyung turned slightly, just enough to glance back. His smile returned-gentle, soft, and aching.
"Okay," he said quietly. "I'll be ready."
And he walked out, leaving the door to close softly behind him.
Jungkook stood frozen for a long moment. Then he stepped toward the desk, his breath shaking slightly as he let go of the control he'd gripped so tightly. His fingers curled around the edge of the table, knuckles pale.
He was the one who proposed it.
And yet, the silence left behind after Taehyung's exit felt louder than anything.
He could still feel the weight of his grandfather's eyes on him, long after the conversation had ended. The room had been quiet, but every word they exchanged felt like it echoed across generations of power and expectation.
Flashback: ( few hours back)
The room was silent, cold like the space between old portraits. The scent of polished wood and old incense lingered faintly in the air.
Jungkook stood near the window, spine straight, hands clasped behind his back. His grandfather sat behind the desk, unmoving, eyes sharp as ever.
"I'll marry him," Jungkook said plainly.
The old man's gaze lifted.
"You'll what?"
Jungkook's jaw tightened. "I'll marry Taehyung. Legally. Contractually. That way, we can get the company.It will benefit the company-no one will question the shares."
A pause.
Then a scoff, soft and bitter. "That boy? We talked about him who his father was. Have you forgotten?"
Jungkook's eyes didn't waver. How can we forget his grandfather is always two steps ahead to know anything."I haven't forgotten anything."
The old man leaned forward, voice low. "And you still think it's wise? Bringing him to our family again? Into this family?"
"You've kept eyes on him long enough. He is not a threat." Jungkook voice teased.
The silence that followed felt heavier than before. His grandfather tapped the cane beside him once, then stilled again.
"You're not a sentimental man, Jungkook. I raised you better. This is just business, I hope?"
Jungkook swallowed hard.
"Of course. A contract marriage. No emotions. No expectations. He signs, we proceed. He will file for divorce later. It's clean. I just don't want distraction in my work so in contract marriage I will focus on company more. "
His grandfather studied him long, slow, like peeling back layers he couldn't see through.
"Then let it remain exactly that. A contract. If I find it becoming more..."
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
Jungkook nodded, quietly.
"And the girl?"
The change in topic felt like a test.
"Yena and Mingyu care for each other. It's genuine. Let them marry. It'll help with Soo Hyun too. He'll bend if you talk to him."
His grandfather was quiet for a long while before he finally spoke again.
"I'll speak with him."
He looked back at Jungkook one final time. "You're playing this game well, grandson. Just don't let the past play you back."
Chapter 16: Stay with me
Chapter Text
These nights never seem to go to plan
I don't want you to leave,
will you hold my hand?
Rainy days. How pure they are.
They come unannounced, dance wildly on the roads, splash windows with reckless joy, and cleanse everything in their path-dust, air, even moods. They fill the world with the sound of giggles, the scent of wet earth, the poetry of water meeting skin.
But no one ever wonders about the clouds.
The ones that pour endlessly, shedding all they have inside them until they're hollow. And only when there's absolutely nothing left-no storm, no drop, no weight-they finally pause... and place a rainbow like a quiet apology. A sign they've managed to stop the rain.
Taehyung never got that chance.
He never got to empty himself.
Never got to cry long enough to see his own rainbow.
He was always the boy who wore the mask of sunshine, the "everything is fine, I'm fine" kind of boy. Pain? It never came with permission-it just came. He never learned how to fight it. Only how to say, "It's okay."
Even when the boys in school called him names,
Even when his father beat him for bringing home a few hundred won less,
Even when his dreams were stripped away like posters torn from his bedroom wall-
He never cried long enough.
He'd just press his lips, breathe deep, and say, "I'm fine."
But something shifted.
A month ago, a storm moved in.
Jeon Jungkook.
He didn't know why or how, but ever since that man entered his life-calm, distant, dangerous-his emotions had begun misbehaving. Taehyung, who always held his world together like cracked glass with glue, now found himself wanting to shatter-just to see if Jungkook would gather the pieces.
He wanted to unravel Jungkook.
To listen to him speak until dawn.
To laugh at things Jungkook didn't even find funny.
To memorize his voice, his hands, the way he always looked outside the window first before speaking.
He cried for Jungkook once, silently, when he believed he would end up with someone else.
Then he scolded himself for being foolish.
But now-Jungkook was turning everything upside down again. With one sentence. With one offer. With one question that still echoed in Taehyung's ears:
"Till our contract lasts... can we stay together?"
He didn't understand what it meant.
Was it kindness? Loneliness? Or something far more cruel-like hope?
Taehyung stood in the middle of the room-his old room, in a house that carried more pain than peace-and stared at the half-filled bag on his bed.
"A deal," he murmured under his breath, swallowing a bitter laugh.
How can someone like Jungkook ever be just a deal?
If Jungkook ever asked him to cross a line, to ruin someone, to even hurt someone-he wasn't sure he'd say no.
That scared him.
But it also made him smile, the kind of smile you give when you know your heart is beyond repair.
He packed slowly.
Each shirt folded like it was part of a ritual.
He looked at the clock. 7:00 PM.
A soft sigh escaped him.
This house... held years of ghosts.
But his mother's laugh in the kitchen, his sister's feet padding across the floor, the smell of cheap incense before exams-all those things made it hard to leave.
His mother had cried when she left earlier today. This house was her favorite dream. Now, it was just an address from a different life.
He closed the bag. Dragged it gently off the bed.
Walked downstairs and sat on the couch. The cushions sank under his weight.
He unlocked his phone and stared at his contact list.
His thumb hovered over Jungkook's name. Should he call?
But then-a buzz. A message.
Mr. Jeon:
I will reach in 15 mins.
You are in your house right??
Taehyung stared at the message.
Simple. To the point. Cold. Just like Jungkook.
He took a breath before replying.
Yes.
Another ping.
Okay.
Taehyung dropped the phone beside him and leaned back against the sofa.
The quiet hum of the fridge in the background.
The faint ticking of the wall clock.
He didn't know why, but his heart thudded wildly in his chest. An odd mixture of anticipation and dread curled in his stomach. He hadn't told Jimin yet. Not the full truth. Not that he was going to sign the marriage papers tonight. Even Jimin didn't know. Jimin had asked him earlier why he was leaving when his father was still in the house-his concern etched plainly across his face.
But Taehyung, as always, had brushed him off with a vague, "I'll handle it."
He hated the look in Jimin's eyes. Like betrayal. Like disappointment. But he promised himself he would tell him everything-just after this. Once things with Jungkook settled. Once he knew for sure he wasn't making another mistake.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp, familiar voice.
"What are you doing here?"
Taehyung froze for a second. He turned slowly-and there he was. The last person he wanted to see. His father.
"I'm just here to get my stuff. I'll be out in ten minutes."
He tried to keep his voice even, calm, uninterested.
His father chuckled darkly. "Where are you staying now? And where's my wife?"
Taehyung's fists clenched at his sides. He counted his breaths. Just five minutes. He needed to stay calm for five more minutes. Jungkook was on his way.
"It's none of your business. You got your house back-be content with that."
His father raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You've grown a tongue over the years. Look at you. Acting bold. Working for some luxury company. What was it again? Oh, right. The Jeons."
Taehyung stood up. He couldn't stay in this room another second longer. The air thickened with old trauma, and it made him feel sick.
He headed toward the door, but his father grabbed his arm and shoved him back.
"I'm talking to you!"
Taehyung's voice finally cracked.HE YELLED "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME NOW? CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE US ALONE?!"
And then it came-the slap.
Sharp. Sudden. Brutal.
Taehyung staggered back a step, hand flying to his burning cheek.
"Don't raise your voice in front of me," his father hissed, brushing imaginary dust from his suit like he hadn't just struck his own son. "Mr. Kang-you know the man I used to work for. I owe him. I need money."
Taehyung stared at him, breathing heavy.
"So? I don't have anything."
"You work at JT Corp. You think I don't know what kind of money they handle? Ask your boss."
Taehyung shook his head, disgust lining his features. "I'm not giving you a single penny. Sell this house. Sell your damn organs if you have to. But I'm done letting you blackmail me."
He grabbed his bag and stormed toward the door.
"You think you can escape me, Kim Taehyung?" his father yelled behind him. "I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN!"
Taehyung didn't turn back. The door slammed shut behind him, but the tremble in his body stayed. His chest ached with the burn of everything he had bottled up. The air outside was cool and quiet, but he still felt like he was suffocating.
Then, down the street, he saw a taxi pulling in.
Jungkook stepped out, dressed simply-no driver, no security. He took a taxi?
Taehyung forced himself to walk forward, wiping his face quickly. He tried to steady his voice.
"Hey..." he said softly, eyes scanning Jungkook's face.
But something in Jungkook's expression startled him.
His jaw was tight. Eyes dark. Hands balled into fists. He looked furious-but not at Taehyung. His gaze burned, but his silence was heavier than any scolding.
Taehyung took a hesitant step. "Mr Jeon? "
Jungkook didn't respond right away. He simply held out his hand.
"Give me your bag."
Taehyung blinked, confused, but obeyed.
Jungkook took the suitcase, walked to the taxi's trunk, and put it in gently. Then he opened the door and looked at Taehyung.
No questions. No explanations. Just an open door.
And that look-the kind that said you're not going back there again.
Taehyung hesitated only a second before sliding into the backseat.
Jungkook followed, closing the door behind him.
The taxi started moving.
Silence hung between them. Not heavy, but not peaceful either. Tension curled in the quiet.
Not knowing his father has saw him leaving.
"So Jeon Jungkook is saving you now?"
"Mr. Jeon, I think you don't know my son at all. Let me introduce him to you properly..." he laughed and turned the street and left.
The silence in the cab was louder than anything Taehyung had ever heard.
He sat with his hands on his lap, fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Jungkook sat beside him, stiff and silent, his gaze fixed outside the window, eyes unreadable, jaw clenched.
Taehyung couldn't understand. What was wrong? Why did Jungkook look like he was one second away from breaking? The tension around him wasn't anger-it was something else. Something heavier.
He tried to keep quiet, but his tongue betrayed him.
"Mr. Jeon... you came without your driver? And no security? You didn't have to come all this way. I could have come myself if you had just told me-"
Jungkook didn't answer. Not a glance. Not a word. Just his eyes glued to the glass, watching as the night passed by.
Taehyung's chest tightened. Was he ignoring him? He looked away, trying to calm his heart, trying not to let the silence hurt more than it should.
Outside, the night had started to weep. Rain rolled down the window, a slow, rhythmic sound like a sad lullaby. Normally, Taehyung hated the rain. It always came on the days he felt the most miserable. But tonight... he didn't mind. Maybe he wanted to feel it on his skin. Maybe he wanted it to wash something away.
The cab came to a halt. He gathered himself and stepped out, the soft rain soaking into his clothes almost immediately. Jungkook followed after paying.
Taehyung moved toward the back to retrieve his bag, but Jungkook stopped him.
"Go inside. I'll bring it."
Taehyung blinked at him. "But-"
"You're soaking wet, Mr. Kim. Just go inside," Jungkook said, firmer this time.
Taehyung stared at him. "You're wet too."
Jungkook sighed, eyes narrowing slightly. "Don't act like a child. Go."
But Taehyung didn't move.
Jungkook retrieved the bag himself and just as the taxi pulled away, he reached out, took Taehyung's wrist gently, and led him toward the apartment, not saying another word.
Inside, the room was dim and quiet, the only sound that of their soaked clothes dripping onto the floor.
Jungkook left the room briefly and returned with a towel. He handed it to Taehyung, his expression unreadable.
"Dry yourself."
Taehyung stood frozen. This scene-this exact moment-had played out two nights ago. But then, it was only him who had been soaked. Only him who had been vulnerable. This time... Jungkook was here too. Soaked. Silent. Heavy.
He didn't reach for the towel. His mind was a mess of thoughts.
Then Jungkook stepped closer, raised the towel to Taehyung's head, and began drying his hair-gently, softly, like he was afraid he might break him.
His fingers moved carefully, and then-without a word-Jungkook's knuckles brushed down Taehyung's cheek. Right over the faint mark still left from the slap. His thumb lingered there for a heartbeat, warm and full of something unspoken.
Taehyung's breath caught.
He stared at Jungkook without blinking, and slowly-almost hesitantly-reached up to hold the hand touching him. Their eyes met, and for the first time that night, Jungkook didn't look away.
Taehyung saw it. A storm of emotion. Something raw. Something real.
But just as quickly... it vanished. Jungkook stepped back, letting the towel drop into Taehyung's hands.
"Why... why do you keep confusing me?" Taehyung whispered.
Jungkook didn't answer. He turned his back and began drying his own hair.
Why aren't you saying anything? Am I invisible to you? You came in a cab, without anyone. Why? For me? Just tell me why. Why are you helping me? Why are you like that? Taehyung wants to ask.
Still nothing. Only the soft rustle of the towel against Jungkook's hair.
Taehyung felt the urge to scream, but his own voice failed him. Everything-his father, his past, the way Jungkook had looked tonight-it was all pressing down too hard.
Then Jungkook turned.
"Can you sign the papers now?"
It was like a slap. Cold. Professional. Empty.
Taehyung swallowed down the sting and nodded. "Okay."
Jungkook disappeared into his room and returned with a file. They both sat on the couch, a little too far apart. Jungkook handed it over without expression.
"There are no binding clauses. You can divorce anytime after a few months. A sudden one would raise questions," Jungkook said flatly.
Taehyung opened the file, but what he saw wasn't just "papers." His heart skipped a beat.
Marriage Certificate.
Jeon Jungkook & Kim Taehyung.
His throat went dry. Just ink. Just paper. But his soul felt like it was about to float.
He reached for the pen, about to sign-but Jungkook spoke again.
"If you don't want this... you can back out."
Taehyung looked up.
Want? He wanted it so badly it hurt. Wait why is you sounding desperate Taehyung?
"No. I'm fine with it." He smiled faintly-bittersweet-and signed.
He handed the file back, and Jungkook took it with a long look. He stared at Taehyung for a second that felt like forever... then lifted the pen.
Just as he was about to sign, Taehyung interrupted.
"If you don't want this... you can back out too."
Jungkook's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"You can choose someone else. Someone more... fitting. For your company. Your image. Your-your dreams."
Jungkook stared at him like he was losing his mind. Then scoffed.
"You were always stubborn. Now you're just dumb."
"What-what do you mean?" Taehyung stammered.
"I mean," Jungkook said, smirking faintly, "you're dumber than I thought."
"Mr. Jeon, you-"
"Jungkook."
Taehyung blinked. "Huh?"
"Drop the formality already," he said, turning on the penlight and signing the paper in one smooth motion. "We're married, right? So... Jungkook and Taehyung will be fine."
Taehyung's words died in his throat.
Jungkook then reached into his pocket and placed a small box on the table.
He opened it revealing two silver matching rings.
Taehyung looked at it, then at Jungkook.
"What... is that?"
Jungkook looked at him, something unreadable in his eyes.
"Give me your hand."
"But if this is supposed to be a secret, why the rings-?"
"Taehyung," Jungkook cut in, "give me your hand."
There was a pause.
And then slowly, Taehyung extended his hand.
Jungkook gently held it, his touch warm, fingers closing around his wrist with almost unbearable tenderness. He slid the ring onto Taehyung's finger, gaze steady.
Taehyung could feel his pulse in his throat.
Then Jungkook held out his own hand.
Taehyung stared.
His lips curled into a tight straight line as he picked up the second ring-and slid it onto Jungkook's hand.
For a fleeting second, their fingers lingered.
No words.
But the silence between them had changed.
Something was beginning.
Not fake.
Not quite real.
But alive
Both stood up from the couch.
"Your room is ready," Jungkook said, voice calm. "It's upstairs, on the left."
"I can stay in the guest room..." Taehyung offered, hesitant.
Jungkook turned to look at him. "You're not a guest." His tone was firmer now. "And if you're afraid of staying in the same room as me-don't worry. There are two rooms upstairs."
Taehyung blinked. That thought hadn't even crossed his mind. "I-I'm not afraid," he blurted before realizing how it sounded.
Jungkook stepped closer, a smirk tugging at his lips. "So... you want to stay in the same room? If you're that desperate, I-"
"Come out of your imagination, Mr. CEO," Taehyung cut in quickly, rolling his eyes. "You're the desperate one, I think."
Jungkook tilted his head. "How do you know?"
"Huh?"
"You're dumb," Jungkook said, and without warning, flicked his forehead.
"Ow-" Taehyung hissed, glaring. "Who even are you? You suddenly changed! We were doing fine being formal."
Jungkook chuckled and turned to leave. "No. I'm liking this way more." He winked before heading upstairs.
Taehyung stared at his retreating figure, dumbfounded.
"Wow. He's annoying." He folded his arms. "How can someone change overnight?" Still pouting, he stomped his way upstairs. But there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
He liked this.
Jungkook was... kind of cute.
"Taehyung, you're going mad," he whispered to himself, shaking his head before stepping into his room.
In his own room, Jungkook held a file in his hands. He sat on the bed and opened it carefully, eyes landing on the certificate.
And then-he smiled.
A big, ridiculous, heart-bursting smile.
He bounced on the bed like a child, unable to contain himself, falling back onto the mattress with a laugh.
"I'm married," he whispered.
His fingers brushed over the words again. "Yeah... I'm married to Taehyung."
He crawled over to his bedside drawer, pulled out a framed photo of his parents, and held it to his chest.
"Eomma... Appa..." his voice was soft, reverent. "I got him. I finally got him. I need your prayers."
His eyes glistened.
"I'll make him happy. You liked him too, didn't you, Eomma? You said he was cute... innocent... though a bit dumb," he chuckled fondly. "Still, I'll be happy with him. I promise."
He pressed the photo frame to his heart a moment longer, then set it aside to reach for his phone. He quickly dialed a number.
"What's up, buddy?" came Mingyu's familiar voice.
"Mingyu-he signed the papers. Mingyu, he fucking signed the papers!" Jungkook half-shouted, unable to hide his excitement.
"Whoa, calm down Mr. Cold! Wait-what?!"
"Yeah! Taehyung's mine now. We're married."
"You freak-oh my God, Jungkook!" Mingyu yelled. "I'm so happy! Finally! But how?!"
"I told him I needed help. He agreed."
"Help? Bro, you tricked him into a contract?"
"No. No clauses. Just a clean marriage certificate. The way it's supposed to be." He pouted. "He's so dumb, Mingyu. How doesn't he suspect anything?"
"Well, you are his boss, man. He probably didn't even think of it like that. But whatever. Now you gotta make him realize you love him. You got that?"
Jungkook nodded slowly. "Yeah. I will. I have to."
"Now go to sleep. Give me the certificate tomorrow-I'll get it registered."
"Thanks, man. Goodnight."
"Night."
As the call ended, Jungkook stared at his phone for a while, warmth in his chest. But just as he stood up to change, a thought crossed his mind.
Taehyung.
He stepped out, padded quietly across the hallway, and knocked on Taehyung's door.
No answer.
He turned the knob gently and peeked in. The room was dim, moonlight streaming through the window in silvery beams.
He was asleep.
Jungkook walked softly to the bed, watching Taehyung's peaceful face. For a moment, he just stood there.
Then, slowly, carefully, he reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear.
That's when he saw it.
A faint bruise on his cheek.
Jungkook's heart clenched. He turned to the nightstand, picked up a small box of ointments, and retrieved a soothing balm. Gently, with feather-light fingers, he dabbed the cream onto Taehyung's skin, making sure not to disturb his sleep.
He couldn't stop his hand from caressing Taehyung's hair once more.
"My pearl..." he whispered, "you'll be safe with me."
He quietly left the room and returned to his own.
Jungkook stared at his phone screen for a moment. Then, frowning, he heard buzzing again. Another call?
He picked up.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Jeon," a deep, grating voice replied.
His body stiffened. "Who?"
"Oh... did you forget? We met at that café?"
Jungkook clenched his jaw. That voice. That day.
"Why are you calling?"
"You said you'd pay me for information."
"So?"
"But now... seems like you've got someone else sniffing around for you. Kim Taehyung, hmm?"
Jungkook's voice rose. "What are you implying?"
The man chuckled darkly. "Still the same fire. Listen-I know why you're doing this. You want information about who ordered me? You need to pay me."
Jungkook's heart pounded. "How much?"
The man paused. "Ten percent of your shares."
"What?" His hand tightened around the phone.
"You think your grandfather doesn't know? Think again, boy. You left your brain abroad, it seems. You ever wonder why I'm still alive even after your parent's death. I need safety if you can give me. I will tell you each and everything. I will call you later."
The call cut. The number is of some Phonebooth.
Jungkook stared at the screen. His breath short. His mind racing.
What is this...?
Taehyung's face flashed in his mind.
He closed his eyes, hand shaking.
Eomma... Appa...
His mind swirled around various scenarios how he is fighting for the past months with himself.
Chapter 17: What a time
Chapter Text
Jungkook's POV ( from the chapter 1 till now)
It had been five years and a handful of months since Jungkook left Korea.
He still remembered the day he boarded the plane-too numb to cry, too angry to speak. At just seventeen, he had lost everything that tethered him to the ground. His parents-his world-were gone in what the police called a tragic accident. That word never sat well with him. Tragic. As if grief could be summed up so lightly.
His grandfather sent him away soon after. "You need to be shaped, Jungkook. Molded into a man worthy of carrying your father's legacy."
He was shipped off to London-alone. Far from the city that carried the scent of his mother's perfume and the echo of his father's laughter.
The company, JT Corp, had been built brick by brick by his parents. Yes They were not born into privilege. They were dreamers from Daegu, who left behind everything familiar to start fresh in Seoul. Jungkook had faint memories of their small apartment, the warm meals, his father coming home with tired eyes but a proud smile.
He barely remembered his grandfather before the funeral. He was five when they left Daegu-after that, only cold, formal birthday calls and rare visits.
But once his parents died, the man returned like a shadow-demanding discipline, demanding distance.
The years abroad were a blur of education, internships, and relentless training. Jungkook had to grow up fast. At times, he wondered if he even had a childhood anymore-or if it had been buried with his parents.
He did everything he was told. But his heart... it never settled.
And he never stopped asking why.
Why was the case closed so quickly? Why was the driver-caught on the spot-only given two years of imprisonment? Why did no one speak about it anymore?
It didn't make sense.
When he returned, he started investigating. Quietly. Methodically.
With Yoongi-his only real friend in London. Someone who acted more like a big brother than anything else. Steady. Loyal. Protective.
"Don't let it consume you," Yoongi used to say.
But it already had.
The driver's name was only thing he knew. A man tangled in black-market deals, smuggling, and minor fraud cases. Too many shadows followed him. Jungkook was convinced he didn't act alone. Someone wanted his parents gone. Someone powerful.
Now, three months back in Korea, the search continued. Behind cold glares and CEO meetings, Jungkook was still the son seeking truth.
And tomorrow... was going to be a turning point.
He would be appointed as CEO of JT Corp.
His father's title.
His grandfather still held most control, but this step meant independence. A voice. The beginning of Jungkook reclaiming what was his.
He arrived at the company a day early. Quietly. No announcement. No press.
The sun was setting over Seoul, casting long shadows over the glass buildings. The city felt the same. Yet every corner breathed memories.
His parents.
And... him.
It had been almost six years, but he remembered. How could he forget? That warm smile in the hallway, laughter behind the bleachers, the voice that always found him in the noise.
First love wasn't something you buried. Not when it stayed alive in every quiet moment.
He was pulled from his thoughts by the voice of the building manager.
"Sir? You came today?"
"I wanted to visit before the appointment."
"I'll take you to the office."
"I know the way," Jungkook murmured, though he let the man lead.
Each step through the hallway was a quiet storm inside him. He could almost hear his father's voice-playfully scolding an employee, calling Jungkook to come sit in the chair behind the desk.
When the office door opened, the scent hit him first.
Wood. Paper. Something faintly familiar-maybe his father's cologne, lingering in the upholstery.
The furniture was the same. Clean. Timeless.
He stepped inside, eyes slowly drinking in every corner, as if memorizing it all over again. His gaze drifted to the desk. For a moment, he saw his father there, smiling at him, laughing.
But it faded.
The manager cleared his throat. "These are the new employee files-interviewed today for different departments. They'll be finalized next week, after your approval."
Jungkook nodded slowly, then spoke. "You can go. I'll stay here for a while."
The man hesitated, but then quietly exited, closing the door behind him.
Silence returned.
Jungkook approached the desk, fingertips brushing the polished surface. Then, without thinking, he picked up the topmost file.
He opened it.
His breath caught.
The world tilted.
He stared at the photo clipped to the top corner-eyes wide, lips parting in disbelief.
No...
The name.
Kim Taehyung.
It felt like being hit with a wave he wasn't prepared for.
He flipped through the file, searching for answers, for something to explain the ache blooming in his chest.
Taehyung had left school a day before Jungkook dropped out. That explained why he couldn't find him then. He homeschooled after that? But why? He was the top student. Bright. Passionate.
What happened to you, Taehyung?
He reached for the intercom.
The manager returned swiftly. "Yes, Mr. Jeon?"
"My secretary position. We need someone, right?"
"Yes, sir, but we have-"
"This candidate." Jungkook tapped the file. "Appoint him."
The manager hesitated. "Mr. Jeon, he doesn't have much experience-"
"Are you going to question me now?"
The sharp edge in his voice made the man nod quickly. "Understood. I'll inform him. He should attend the briefing meeting tomorrow?"
"Yes."
The door closed again.
Jungkook let out a long, shaky breath. Then, slowly, carefully, he unpinned the small photo of Taehyung from the file.
He stared at it-quiet, reverent.
He didn't smile. He couldn't.
Because this reunion wasn't a blessing. It was a storm waiting to fall.
Jungkook tucked the photo into his wallet and leaned back in the chair that once belonged to his father.
You came back into my life just when everything is about to explode.
He looked at the ceiling, voice barely a whisper.
"I don't know what fate is doing, Taehyung... but I won't let you get hurt. Not again."
The morning sun crept in gently through the curtains, but Jungkook had been awake long before its arrival. Sleep hadn't come easy. His heart wasn't pounding because he was about to take over as CEO of JT Corp-no, that pressure felt minuscule in front of what today truly held. Today, he would see him. Taehyung.
He stood in front of the mirror, dressed in a sleek black suit that Yoongi had picked out for him days before, saying, "It's bold, but you need to own the room, not just walk into it." But as he smoothed the front of his blazer, his hands trembled slightly. Not from nerves of leadership-but from the haunting mix of hope and dread that came with seeing someone who still lived in the cracks of his heart.
The car ride to the company felt long. His mind drifted, wandering to the last time he saw Taehyung-18, eyes shining like Seoul's stars. And then, just like that, gone. No goodbye. Just silence. A vacuum he never truly filled in all these years abroad.
As he stepped into the building, it wasn't the weight of his grandfather's legacy or the stares from employees that clouded his mind. It was that one person. The one who didn't even know he was back.
He walked slowly toward the conference room. Every step sounded louder in his ears. He could feel his own pulse against his ribs. His palm grazed the small picture in his pocket-the one from Taehyung's file. His only comfort.
Then, the door opened.
And he stepped inside.
Jungkook's eyes scanned the room, a desperation hidden beneath his composed exterior. He spotted department heads, senior officials, his grandfather's assistant... but none of them mattered. Until his eyes caught him.
Taehyung.
Time, cruel as ever, halted.
Jungkook forgot how to breathe for a moment. Taehyung hadn't changed-yet he had. There was a maturity in his eyes, a softness clouded by quiet sorrow. But he was still beautiful. Too beautiful.
Their eyes met.
And Jungkook had to force himself not to crumble.
He cleared his throat and began the briefing. His voice stayed firm, but his gaze betrayed him, falling back on Taehyung again and again, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of him anew.
The meeting ended. The second it did, Jungkook didn't stop for pleasantries or congratulations. He rushed back to his office, closed the door behind him, and let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
"Damn," he whispered, leaning back against the door, "he's still the same."
A faint, almost foolish smile pulled at his lips.
He sat behind his desk, hesitating for a moment, before pressing the intercom.
"Can you send my secretary in?"
He tried to steady his breath. Just keep it professional, he reminded himself, quickly opening a tablet to look occupied.
The knock came.
Jungkook's body tensed instinctively, but he forced his voice to sound composed. "Come in."
Footsteps.
And then, he was there.
Taehyung stood in front of him, polite and poised. Jungkook asked questions he already knew the answers to-his education, his experience, his plans-anything just to hear his voice again. It was still velvety, low and soft, threading through his chest like music he used to play on repeat.
But beneath it all, Jungkook noticed something else. Sadness. A heavy sort of quiet that lingered in Taehyung's words when he spoke about school. Something about how he looked down when Jungkook asked about why he left. Why he homeschooled. The ache was visible, even if unspoken.
Taehyung didn't recognize him.To him, Jungkook was just "Mr. Jeon," the boss.
And maybe that hurt more than it should have.
But Jungkook didn't ask. He couldn't.
Not yet.
So instead, he watched Taehyung walk out the door after their meeting-head bowed, hands clutching his small notepad-and told himself this was enough. For now.
Because Taehyung was here.
And he wasn't letting him disappear again.
Days slipped by like sand through fingers. Jungkook, without even realizing it, made Taehyung a constant presence around him. Business trip? Taehyung, come with me. Site visit? I need my secretary along. Lunch? Join me.
He didn't need a reason. Taehyung was the reason.
But the last site visit changed everything.
Taehyung had gotten hurt-nothing life-threatening. But for Jungkook, it was enough to make the world blur red. He'd watched it happen from a distance-how a careless worker let steel rods slip too close, and jungkook had instinctively moved to protect him. The way he flinched stayed etched in Jungkook's brain like a scar.
When Jungkook returned to the office, rage consumed him. He smashed a glass, overturned his desk, cursed every protocol in place. How dare they not work properly? What if something worse had happened?
He eventually passed out, head resting on his arm, pain throbbing through his chest instead of his hands.
When he blinked awake sometime later, the office was dim, and soft shuffling reached his ears. He turned his head and found Taehyung silently arranging the scattered files.
His heart squeezed.
He stood up and walked over. Taking the folders gently from his hands, he murmured, "Mr. Kim, you're not my maid. Don't clean up my mess."
But the moment he looked into Taehyung's eyes-quiet, tired, as if carrying burdens no one saw-he swallowed hard.
How do I deserve someone like you... even standing this close?
Jungkook couldn't ignore the signs anymore. The tired glances, the way Taehyung always looked like he had one foot outside the door-disconnected, distracted. He asked the floor manager quietly, and what he learned left him frozen:
Taehyung's elder sister needed urgent surgery. He'd requested a bonus from HR.
Jungkook didn't hesitate.
But he couldn't risk drawing attention. So, under the guise of fairness, he introduced a new policy: any employee with a verified medical emergency in their immediate family could apply for aid-credited from their future pay at a 5% rate.
He hoped it helped. He hoped it eased Taehyung's storm, even if just a little.
But his grandfather began to notice his lingering attention. So Jungkook began carrying an extra driver again, acting composed, masking his gaze. Still, whenever Taehyung passed by... he couldn't help but watch.
Six years later and I'm still hopeless for him.
And Taehyung? Still clueless. Just like back then.
He was reviewing reports in his office when the door suddenly opened. His uncle walked in, followed by-
Taehyung.
Jungkook's breath hitched.
Taehyung's eyes widened in clear surprise at the sight of the older man being his uncle. Jungkook noticed it too. Something flickered-recognition? Confusion?
Taehyung left the room quietly, but Jungkook's mind didn't. His thoughts were spinning.
His uncle, as usual, flashed his charming smile and began small talk about his daughter, Yena. She was sweet-Jungkook liked her. But nothing about this man ever sat right.
To shake the unease, Jungkook pressed the intercom. "Mr. Kim, bring in two coffees."
Honestly, he just wanted to see him again. Just to calm the sour taste in his mouth.
Moments later, the door opened and Taehyung walked in, holding two cups.
But Jungkook's smile faded the second his eyes dropped to Taehyung's hand.
A fresh cut. Deep, red, and angry on his pale skin.
Jungkook's jaw locked. He looked from Taehyung to his uncle, who now wore an unreadable expression.
Then the cup in Taehyung's hand slipped-coffee splashing across his uncle's polished shoes.
Before anyone could speak, his uncle grabbed Taehyung by the collar.
"You little-!"
"Let. Him. Go." Jungkook's voice was sharp, controlled like the stillness before a storm.
He stepped forward, grabbing his uncle's wrist and pulling him away from Taehyung.
"Mr. Kim, leave," he said, eyes never leaving his uncle's face.
Taehyung hesitated but obeyed, stepping out silently.
Jungkook turned fully then.
"Did his hand get hurt because of you?"
"What?" His uncle scoffed. "Nephew, what are you saying?"
"I asked you something." His voice was low now. Deadly calm.
"He stumbled, that's all," his uncle said, brushing imaginary lint off his coat.
"You fucking hurt him," Jungkook snapped.
"Jungkook, I-"
"Leave," he said sharply. "And remember-I only respect you because of Yena. But if I ever find out you laid a hand on my staff again, you won't even be allowed near this building."
His uncle left without another word.
When the door clicked shut, Jungkook let out a trembling breath and stared at the blood-streaked paper cup still on the table.
I need to bandage it.
And that's what he did.
Later that day, Jungkook sat beside him silently, pulled out a first aid kit from his drawer.
"Let me."
He didn't explain. Just knelt before him on the floor.
And gently, with hands that shook more than they should, Jungkook cleaned the cut. Bandaged it with care.
Not a word was spoken.
But in that moment-on his knees before the boy he loved and still do-he knew.
Some wounds needed more than bandages.
Despite everything going on, Jungkook was still investigating the driver. A week had passed, and now, his inauguration party was finally being held. Taehyung had taken care of all the arrangements-meticulous, responsible, and as hardworking as ever.
Jungkook, buried in work, barely had time to even talk to Taehyung lately. He was deep in thought when his phone rang just as he was leaving the office to rest before the big day.
"Hello?"
"Jungkook, I've got information on the driver's family," the investigator said.
"Good. When can you send it to me?"
"I'll email it shortly."
"I'll be waiting."
Once Jungkook got home, he freshened up, exhaustion dragging down every step. The moment he hit the bed, sleep engulfed him completely. He didn't even check the mail.
The next morning-the day of the party-he woke up, dressed, and just as he was about to leave, he remembered the email. He picked up his phone, opened the message, and as he reached for the door, his hand froze mid-air.
His entire body went still.
The driver responsible for his parents' accident... had a son and a daughter.
Attached was a picture.
Jungkook's breath hitched.
No. No... it can't be.
The face in the photo. The son...
His knees gave out as he dropped onto the edge of the bed.
Taehyung.
It's him.
His mind spun violently. Had Taehyung known all along? No, he couldn't have. He was too pure, too innocent. He would never-
Jungkook buried his face in his hands, emotions crashing over him like a tidal wave. He remembered how Taehyung looked at him last time... how he had held his hand.
He was falling for him. Deeper than he ever intended. But if Taehyung ever found out... he would blame himself. He would think Jungkook used him. Manipulated him. And that thought-that fear-crushed Jungkook's chest.
But I love him. He's innocent. He'll understand me... right?
The sound of a knock and a voice from the other side of the door broke his spiral. They were getting late.
With heavy steps, Jungkook made his way to the ballroom.
And the moment he entered, the first person his eyes found was him.
Taehyung.
He looked radiant, graceful, perfect.
Jungkook took the stage and delivered his speech, but not once did his gaze leave the male. Everything Taehyung had arranged was flawless. The way the lights danced in the room. The way the music swelled at the right times. Every little detail-it all had Taehyung written on it.
And yet, the whole time, all Jungkook could think about was him.
How much he wanted to protect him. Touch him. Devour him.
Then he saw Taehyung talking to his grandfather.
Panic surged.
No. If his grandfather found out about Taehyung's identity, it would destroy everything. He'd get hurt. And Jungkook would never let that happen.
So he did the only thing he could think of.
He lashed out.
He spoke to Taehyung in a harsh tone, voice laced with coldness he didn't mean. And when he saw the heartbroken look flash across Taehyung's face-he knew. He knew he had just shattered something fragile and precious.
But he had to do it.
To protect him.
After the party, Jungkook couldn't bring himself to go home. Not with his heart aching like this. So he went to his suite instead.
He entered the room and immediately stopped in his tracks.
There, lying on the couch, was Taehyung.
His cheeks were flushed a deep red, his breaths soft and slow.
He was drunk.
And yet-even like this-he looked beautiful.
Taehyung stirred, then blinked up at him.
Mr. Jeon?" Taehyung mumbled, blinking blearily.
Jungkook approached cautiously,hands in pants pockets. "You're drunk."
"I'm not," Taehyung said, though he swayed slightly as he stood. "I came to say... goodnight."
"You shouldn't be here like this."
Taehyung looked up at him. Eyes glassy, voice cracking around the edges.
"You let them talk about me like that.First your uncle and then your grandfather"
Jungkook froze. His heart broken at this sight. Told you jungkook you broke him.
Taehyung stepped forward, not close enough to touch, but enough to challenge.
"Do you hate me?" he whispered.
Silence. No Taehyung I ....I love you he wants to scream.
"Do I disgust you?" Taehyung's voice cracked. "Or is it just easier to break what already bends?"
His eyes were wet now, barely blinking. "Say it Mr. Jeon. Say I'm a mistake you regret hiring."
Jungkook's throat moved, but no words came. Oh God Jungkook what you did.
"Why do you keep looking at me like you remember something and then act like I'm invisible?"
Still silence.
Taehyung laughed bitterly. "Right. You're the heir. I'm the decoration."
No. No. You are.... Jungkook hands irked at his sides.
Taehyung stepped back, collapsing onto the couch again. A soft thud.
Jungkook was about to hold him. But still frozen. You are doing wrong to him. When he will know about truth he will hate you and then will hate himself. Don't give him hope.
"I didn't even drink that much," Taehyung murmured. "I just... wanted to feel like someone." He then looked at his bandage hand. Then he said " You are confusing me, Mr. Jeon".
Jungkook moved slowly then - carefully removing his blazer and draping it over Taehyung's shoulders. The action was too gentle for the man who had spat coldness an hour ago.
Taehyung looked up, eyes glassy. "Why are you always quiet when it matters?"
Jungkook knelt beside him, gaze unreadable.
Then - so softly Taehyung almost didn't register it - he said,
"You make too much noise in my head." A noise that is keeping me alive.
Taehyung blinked. "What?"
But Jungkook stood up before he could repeat it. He turned away, standing at the window, arms crossed tight over his chest.
"I'm not good with noise," he said after a long pause.
Taehyung watched his silhouette, the city lights outlining his frame. He stood up, move towards Jungkook.
"Mr jeon," Taehyung whispered, "Am I really that easy to dismiss?"
Silence. Jungkook now wants to scream.
A beat passed.
Then, without warning, Taehyung leaned into Jungkook's shoulder, his body heavy with sleep and wine. Then Jungkook heard soft snores.
Jungkook let out a sigh and gently guided him down, laying him on the bed, Caressed his bandage hand. He pulled the blanket over him, brushing the hair from his forehead once more.
He stepped back, pulled out his phone.
"Cancel the driver. I will stay here tonight" he said to the concierge. "Make sure no one disturbs me in my room. "
He then kneeled beside him. He caressed his hairs.
"My pearl... I am sorry.. I am so coward still like in high school. "
He then bent and kissed his forehead.
His eyes got glossy.
"Today I came to know about the person that cause the accident of my parents. It took me long to investigate because I was sent too far."
"Taehyung what should I do? I can't stay away from you. But if I will keep you with me you will be affected. You will think I because of revenge keep you with me."
Tears rolled down his cheeks.
"But I promise I will keep you happy. You will never be a plan. Please in future forgive me for being selfish by keeping you."
But still after long tiring battle, still his grandfather already had an eye on Taehyung. He already knows who his father is.
So, Jungkook instead of pushing Taehyung he married him. He told his grandfather it's a deal.So, they stay away from him. At least, this time he is brave to handle all this. At least, what he think it is.
Present:
He remembered the promise he made.
That day... when Taehyung looked at him with broken eyes and asked if he was a mistake.
He had vowed then-and he vowed again now-Taehyung would never be a part of any plan.
He would never be used. Never be discarded. Not by him.
Not ever.
Jungkook's jaw tightened as old memories clawed their way back. The school courtyard. The whispers. The humiliation. Taehyung, standing small and trembling-because of his father.
But now?
Now, Taehyung was his family. His only family.
Not by blood.
But by soul.
And this time, Jungkook would protect him. From everything. From the world, from the ghosts of the past, even from the monster his father had been.
He would protect him-and punish those who took his parents away.
Their time was coming.
But not before he secured this one fragile thing the world had given him back-Taehyung.
His pearl.
But one thing still gnawed at Jungkook's mind.
For all his grandfather's calm words and smirks, something didn't sit right.
He hadn't made any real progress understanding one crucial detail-
Why was Grandfather so easily agreeing to everything Jungkook wanted?
It wasn't like him.
The old man, sharp as ever, had always been cautious-calculating. Yet now, he was letting Jungkook act freely, even after knowing exactly who Taehyung was.
His bloodline. His background. His past.
Still... that same unreadable demeanor.
Unmoved. Unbothered. Almost amused.
It wasn't normal.
It couldn't be.
Chapter 18: Simple things
Chapter Text
You don't have to win the lotto
I want you to win my heart
Flashback:
Dear Pearl,
My world always stops whenever I see you.
It's like time forgets how to move... and I forget how to breathe.
Your eyes-they are my favorite part of you. They hold galaxies, storms, and all the quiet places I long to rest in. But I'm angry with you. Just a little.
Yesterday, at the party... you said you're not beautiful.
How could you say that?
You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen.
Oh, the party-did you like the song? It was my first time singing in front of everyone.
I was terrified.
And I cried. Like an idiot. Right there while singing.
I don't know why... maybe because you were standing there, and suddenly everything I've kept buried came rushing up like a storm.
My heart aches when I see you. And I'm scared.
What if I can't have you?
What if I lose you before I ever truly have you?
I don't know how I'd survive that.
I'm going now-Mom's calling.
But I just wanted to say this, even if I can't say it out loud yet.
I love you ❤.
Bye for now.
Yours,
Jungkook
.
.
He folded the journal with trembling fingers, brushing his thumb gently across the name he'd signed.
Then, with a soft sigh, he placed it carefully into the drawer-like hiding away a piece of his heart.
He paused for a moment, as if anchoring himself to the feelings inked on the page, then slowly stood and made his way toward the living room, where the world waited for him again.
Present:
He was standing in the middle of the road.
Alone.
The silence was deafening. Shadows loomed in every direction, stretching far beyond what his eyes could reach.
His breath came in short, uneven gasps. Panic clawed at his chest.
He started to run-but the road stretched endlessly, darkness closing in, thick and suffocating.
"Hello?!" he shouted.
Nothing. Just his voice echoing in the void.
Suddenly-headlights.
A sharp burst of white light cut through the darkness. A car. Barreling straight toward him.
He raised his hands instinctively, shielding his eyes.
"Wait-stop!"
But it didn't slow.
He squinted, trying to see who was driving. The light was too strong, the car too fast.
The engine screamed as it accelerated.
His eyes widened.
No.
Too fast.
Too close.
And then-
Crash.
His body slammed onto the cold asphalt, skidding, blood painting the pavement. His lungs struggled to breathe.
His vision blurred.
The car door opened with a mechanical groan.
Footsteps.
Someone was coming.
He blinked, trying to clear the blood and tears from his eyes. His heart was pounding and fading all at once.
And then-
He saw him.
Taehyung???
Standing over his broken, gasping body.
Jungkook's lips trembled.
Why...?
But Taehyung-Taehyung was crying.
Falling to his knees.
Sobbing.
"I'm sorry"
No.
No.
This can't be happening.
"TAE-"
"TAEHYUNG!!"
Jungkook jolted up in bed, drenched in sweat, breath ragged and loud in the still room.
His chest heaved as reality rushed back to him-his bedroom, the pale morning light, the sound of his own heart.
It was a dream.
No.
A nightmare.
He sat up, wiping his face with shaking hands, and reached for the water on the nightstand. He took long gulps, as if it could wash the fear down.
The clock blinked.
7:30 a.m.
He closed his eyes briefly. Then got up, grabbed his clothes, and moved to the bathroom.
The scent of something warm and familiar drifted through the hallway as he descended the stairs.
He slowed as he reached the kitchen.
Taehyung was there. Wearing an apron too big for his frame, standing over the stove, carefully stirring a pot.
The sunlight bathed the room in soft gold, making him look like something out of a dream. A peaceful one.
He turned with a gentle smile.
"Oh, you're up. I made breakfast. You should eat something warm."
He moved to serve a bowl without waiting for a reply.
Jungkook just stood there, watching.
So alive.
So real.
Then the nightmare hit him. He stood there for a while then sat down.
Taehyung set the bowl down and sat across from him.
Jungkook took a spoonful of the soup-and froze.
The taste...
It was just like his mother's.
His throat tightened, eyes glistening.
"I... I have to tell you something..my family reached safely and -" Taehyung began, but halted mid-sentence when he saw Jungkook's expression.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concern flooding his face. He stood up quickly, moving to Jungkook's side, hand resting gently on his shoulder. "Did I do something wrong? Was it bad?."
Jungkook blinked away the sting in his eyes and looked at him.
How could he ever doubt him?
Look at him. So worried. So sincere. So him.
"I'm okay," he said softly, managing a small smile.
Taehyung slowly sat back down, still wary. "I thought I messed up."
"Actually," Jungkook said, voice playful, "you did."
Taehyung blinked. "What?"
"Nothing." Jungkook smirked.
Taehyung narrowed his eyes. "If you weren't my boss, I would..."
"Well, I'm not just your boss you know. " Jungkook teased, cutting him mid-sentence, throwing him a wink.
Taehyung froze. This man...
He scoffed. "I'm still your employee, Mr. Jeon."
Jungkook with a shrug, standing and taking his empty bowl toward the sink.
He rinsed the bowl and dried his hands, then turned-pausing near Taehyung.
With slow precision, he leaned just close enough for his breath to tickle Taehyung's ear.
Taehyung's body stiffened. He tried to stand up from chair but Jungkook hovering from behind is not working.
Jungkook's Voice low. Warm. Smooth like silk brushed with fire.
"I only came for the bowl," he said, "and I suppose it wasn't a workplace violation my Husband."
Taehyung's eyes widened. His brain stuttered.
Before he could respond, Jungkook straightened grabbed the bowl and washed it and walked toward the keys on the counter, posture as composed as ever.
"I'll be waiting outside. You're driving today."
He didn't look back. Just grabbed the keys and walked out the door.
The room went still.
Taehyung remained seated, blinking.
"...What just happened?"
One hand went up to his cheek. He slapped it gently.
"Focus, Kim Taehyung. You're not the main character in a drama. Get moving."
He grabbed his phone, muttered a few more words to himself, and headed for the garage-where his boss, his daily headache, and apparently his heart thief-was waiting.
Taehyung parked the car in garage. They both came out of car. Taehyung, fidgeting with his fingers.
"You want to say something " Jungkook noticed and ask.
" My family they are safe now. I want to thank you for that and noona told me her surgery is scheduled as well." He halted for a second eyes still on floor. " I don't know how to thank you enough. You just saved me. But the debt is too much for me now. Maybe a burden. "
Jungkook sensed the worry in taehyung.
He came in front of him.
" How can you be a burden? Is not I should be the one saying this? I caged you with me entirely with marriage. Right? "
Caged? But he is making taehyung happy. Right?
" No it's not like that. " He said more like a whisper.
" Forget it. Let's live like friends. Treat each other like friends. Then it will pass easily. " Jungkook said.
Taehyung gave a small smile with okay.
And then they both move towards building.
Jungkook sighed. He can understand taehyung. A person you don't know suddenly starts showering you with a lot of things. But how can jungkook tell him that he is not a stranger. But the thought that taehyung will not believe him at all if he tells him he love him. How will he make him believe that he loved him for past 6 years. He is afraid what if he leave him after knowing.
"Father, how can you just agree to Jungkook like that?" Soohyun burst out, disbelief written all over his face.
"Calm down," his father replied coolly. "The business is still half under my name. Nothing's going to happen."
"How can you be so relaxed? And what about Yena?" Soohyun's voice sharpened. "She's supposed to marry him-"
"Mingyu has an expansive business empire. Becoming allies with him will be useful to us in the long run."
Soohyun narrowed his eyes. "You're thinking something else, aren't you? You're not hiding anything from me, right?"
A brief pause.
"Jungkook's been digging into his father's case. He even met Woo Jin," his father finally said. "I needed to distract him-so I agreed to his little requests. He's still a boy. Too much adrenaline. Too many emotions."
"So, what's your plan?"
"Nothing you need to worry about," his father said with a smirk. "Let him be happy with that boy. As long as he doesn't cross a line, we won't have to lift a finger."
Soo hyun sighed. But something is not fitting with him.
"And " His father spoke again. "Woo jin, try to relocate him. We need to get him before jungkook."
Soo hyun gulped. "Okay".
Jungkook stepped into his office, the silence welcoming yet heavy. He walked toward his desk, settled into the chair, and leaned back with a sigh. The weight of everything still pressed on his shoulders-but there was a strange lightness too.
Before he could gather his thoughts, the door burst open.
Mingyu entered with Yoongi in tow, loud and grinning.
"Well, well... Mr. Married is here," Mingyu teased, his voice echoing in the room.
Jungkook looked up, startled for a second, but the sight of them softened his features. A faint smile curved his lips.
Mingyu took that as a cue and rushed toward him, pulling him into a tight hug. It wasn't dramatic. It was real-warmth pressed into his bones.
They didn't speak. Not immediately.
Mingyu pulled back, his eyes searching Jungkook's.
"I'm so happy for you," he said sincerely.
Jungkook merely nodded, the words caught in his throat.
Yoongi stepped forward next, ruffling Jungkook's hair like an older brother.
"Congrats, kid. You finally smiled... genuinely this time."
A soft chuckle left Jungkook's lips. "Thanks, hyung."
They all moved to the couch. For a moment, it was quiet. Comfortable.
Yoongi broke it.
"So, what's your plan now? You told your grandfather about signing the papers?"
Jungkook looked away briefly. "Not yet. I just said I'd sign a contract. Told him I'm not ready for marriage... that I'll do it just for the company."
Mingyu frowned. "That's strange. He didn't question it at all?"
Jungkook leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes focused on the ground.
"I've been thinking the same. Grandfather... he's too quiet."
Yoongi nodded. "Don't stress about it too much. Just make sure you finalize the registration. Once you have your shares, talk to him openly."
Jungkook hummed in agreement, but the unease still sat stubbornly in his chest.
Mingyu, sensing the tension, clapped his hands. "Okay! Public holidays are coming. How about a trip? We need air, we need sun, we need to see something other than office walls."
Yoongi sighed. "We should rest. That's better."
"A trip is rest, hyung," Mingyu retorted dramatically.
He turned to Jungkook. "What about you?"
Jungkook, lost in thought, didn't reply.
And just then, the office door opened again.
Taehyung stepped in, a file in hand, his posture straight yet reserved.
He froze momentarily seeing the three men, then walked over and gave a polite nod.
"Mr. Jeon, the Finance Department sent this month's report for your review. Since it's your first official month, Manager Park also forwarded prior data to your email."
Jungkook nodded, keeping his tone measured. "Thank you."
Taehyung gave a small bow and was about to turn when-
"Taehyung!" Mingyu called out suddenly.
Taehyung paused, glancing over his shoulder.
"Want to join us on a trip?"
The question was so unexpected, it didn't register right away.
Taehyung blinked. "A... trip?"
He looked at Jungkook, confusion written all over his face.
Yoongi chimed in casually, "We're heading out during the holidays. Jungkook said he's not coming-too much work. So we thought, if his secretary comes along, he can work there. You in?"
Both Mingyu and Jungkook turned to Yoongi at once.
When did Jungkook say that?
When did Yoongi agree to anything?
Jungkook looked at Taehyung. Their eyes met-and God, those eyes. Wide, curious, cautious. They'd be the death of him one day, he was sure of it.
"You can come," Jungkook said quickly, looking anywhere but at Taehyung. "It'll be... fun."
Taehyung blinked slowly, taking it in. "Okay, I'll join. I'll prepare all necessary files for work."
Yoongi added with a shrug, "You can bring a friend too. You'll get bored otherwise."
Taehyung hesitated, then turned his gaze to Jungkook again, almost shyly. Seeking approval.
Jungkook's heart did a quiet little spin.
"You can bring Mr. Kim," he said gently. "No need to ask."
Taehyung smiled, soft and sincere. "I'll let Jimin know," he replied before turning and walking out.
As the door closed, Jungkook's smile lingered.
"You're so whipped," Mingyu said with a laugh. "How did he never notice before? Man, you're boring holes into his back every second."
Jungkook shot him a glare, but turned to Yoongi. "Now tell me, hyung-what in the world made you invite his friend?"
Yoongi didn't even look up from his phone. "Don't strain your already dying brain."
Mingyu and Jungkook exchanged a look-and burst out laughing.
Mingyu looked over at Jungkook, his smile softening.
For the first time in so long, his friend looked... alive.
He silently thanked Taehyung for coming back into Jungkook's life.
Chapter 19: Promise
Chapter Text
“Violets,” Jungkook used to say
“They represent Taehyung.”
He had read once that violets come in many colors—white, yellow, blue. And for Jungkook, Taehyung was all of them.
Innocent as white, with those eyes that spoke of a gentle heart untouched by malice.
A new beginning as yellow, the light that came after years of darkness.
And blue… blue as melancholy, the sadness that clung to him like morning dew clings to petals, quiet and lingering.
He knew. From the beginning, he had known. This boy—this man—would be the only one he'd ever love in this lifetime. And even when hope had shattered and he left Korea behind, that love didn’t fade. It remained, constant and burning beneath the skin.
“Even if he came to me with a knife,” Jungkook once thought, “and stabbed me in the chest... then told me he didn’t do it—I would believe him.”
Because that’s how deep his love went. That’s how blind it was. No. Not blind—devoted.
And now… now that Taehyung was here again, right in front of him—laughing, talking, breathing—Jungkook wanted to run away. Not from him, but with him. Somewhere far, far away. Where no one could find them. Where the world couldn't interfere.
But the world always interfered.
He stood tall in his grandfather's study room, but inside, he was tired. Drained.
“What’s the point of this?” Jungkook asked, his voice steady but sharp, eyes locking with the older man.
“I’ve already signed a contract with Taehyung. We talked about it.”
His grandfather didn’t flinch.
“A contract,” he repeated slowly, like the word was something sour on his tongue.
“Don’t forget it and ends it in a month. After you get your share of the company, it’ll be over.”
He said it like it meant nothing.
Jungkook’s jaw clenched. His fists curled slightly at his sides. He didn’t panic. He wouldn't.
Taehyung was his husband now. And no one—no one—could separate them.
“What if I don’t want to end it?” he said, quieter this time, but with more force.
His grandfather chuckled, shaking his head. “How can you live with someone who’s the son of your parents’ murderer?”
There it was. Again.
That shadow. That accusation. That name Taehyung never asked for but was forced to carry.
Jungkook’s heart beat faster, not with fear—but with anger. And pain.
Why does he have to suffer for crimes he didn’t commit?
Why does the world insist on punishing him for being born?
“Why are you so sure he’s not like his father?” his grandfather asked, eyes narrowed.
The question stung.
“What do you mean?”
The older man leaned back with a sigh, as though explaining something to a naive child.
“Criminal blood is always criminal. I allowed this marriage because we could use him. But once that use is gone—we won’t need him anymore.”
Jungkook’s blood ran cold.
“What use?” he asked, voice thin, stomach turning.
Before the answer came, the door opened with a soft click.
A man entered. Middle-aged, wearing a tailored suit that screamed subtle power. There was something about him—an aura Jungkook didn’t like. Dark. Calculating. Dangerous.
He bowed lightly to the chairman and turned to Jungkook with a smirk.
A nod. A stare.
Too long of a stare.
Too knowing.
“Ah, Kang,” the chairman said, his tone lightening as if greeting an old friend.
“I was just thinking about you.”
The man—Kang—smiled politely and sat down on the leather couch like he owned the place.
“We’ll talk later, Jungkook.”
His grandfather waved his hand dismissively.
Jungkook’s gaze lingered on the man seated. There was something off—his stare too sharp, his smile too calm. The kind of man who kept knives hidden in plain sight.
He turned without a word and left the room.
As the door clicked shut behind him, he heard Kang’s low chuckle.
“He’s grown,” he said to the chairman.
The old man smirked in return.
“He has.”
The ride back to the apartment felt unbearably suffocating.
Jungkook's grip tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles white as his thoughts spiraled. He wasn't going to leave Taehyung—he couldn’t. But fear gnawed at the edges of his mind. What if his grandfather tried to hurt him? What if he failed to protect the only person he had left? Taehyung wasn’t just someone he loved—he was his peace, his home, the last thread holding him together.
The memory of Woojin’s phone call flared in his mind like a warning siren.
“He knows, Jungkook. Your grandfather knows everything you know.”
What the hell did that even mean?
Frustrated, he banged the steering wheel. “Damn it!”
He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and tried to calm his racing heart. “When will peace come to me? Why can’t anything ever be… normal?”
After a moment, he stepped out of the car, slung his bag over his shoulder, and trudged toward the apartment. The weight in his chest was suffocating—but it lightened slightly as he opened the door.
Warmth spilled out.
Soft light hummed from the living room lamp. The faint aroma of something being cooked drifted through the air. It felt like… home.
Because Taehyung made it feel like home.
Jungkook smiled faintly, his heart settling. He heard giggles echoing from the kitchen and quietly padded over, tilting his head just enough to peek inside.
Taehyung stood at the stove, back turned, one hand holding a phone to his ear, the other stirring something with gentle focus.
“Jimin, stop it,” he giggled, voice light and playful.
Jungkook leaned against the wall, arms folded, a soft smile stretching across his lips. Just hearing his voice eased the ache in his chest.
“So you’ll come, right? I’ll be awkward without you. And—uhm—I want to talk with you more. I haven’t really gotten the chance since we met,” Taehyung said with a shy laugh.
The world could burn and Jungkook would still stand there, listening to that voice.
The call ended. Taehyung turned around—and jumped so hard that the plate in his hand crashed to the floor.
“Ah! You scared me!” he exclaimed, crouching instantly to gather the broken pieces.
Jungkook blinked out of his daze and rushed forward, gently grabbing Taehyung’s wrist.
“Not this time, you clumsy human,” he teased, chuckling.
Taehyung felt his skin tingle at the contact, and a giggle escaped him despite his embarrassment.
As Jungkook cleaned up, Taehyung chewed his bottom lip. He felt bad watching him do it.
“I—I’m sorry. I—”
Jungkook looked up, cutting him off with a calm smile. “You ready for the trip? Got any plans?”
Taehyung blinked. “Uhm… Aren’t we working?”
Jungkook laughed. “It’s a trip. We’re supposed to enjoy ourselves. Is your friend coming?”
“Ah, Jimin? Yeah, he’s all set.” Taehyung grinned, the mention of his friend putting a sparkle in his eyes.
Jungkook glanced around the kitchen, amused. “So… dinner?”
Taehyung scratched his neck. “Uhm… it kind of… fell.”
Jungkook raised a brow and then laughed. “Yeah, I noticed. I guess we’re ordering in.”
They sat side by side on the couch, warm food between them. Jungkook felt giddy inside—how domestic this felt, how peaceful. He had waited a lifetime for this simplicity.
“Let’s watch a movie,” he suggested.
“Okay,” Taehyung said, arranging the food.
They turned off the lights, creating a mini theater atmosphere. Taehyung leaned back, relaxed, happy. Jungkook smirked to himself. He had an evil idea.
Taehyung reached for a chicken wing. “What’s the movie?”
“Oh, it’s about two daughters. The Exorcist. It’s a classic.”
Taehyung’s eyes lit up. “Oh, sisters? That sounds safe. Let’s go with that"
At least it’s not romantic—I might get awkward. He said to himself.
Oh, if only you knew, Jungkook thought with a mischievous grin.
The movie started.
Within ten minutes, Taehyung let out a blood-curdling scream. Jungkook burst into laughter, scooting away just a little to enjoy his masterpiece.
“M-Mr. Jeon—” Taehyung gasped, another scream following a terrifying scene. He grabbed a pillow, clutching it like a shield, trembling behind it.
Then silence.
He peeked from the pillow—and froze.
Jungkook was gone.
He blinked. Panic rose. He reached for the remote, but it wasn’t there. The haunting voices from the film echoed around the dark room, wrapping around him like a curse.
“Mr. Jeon?” he whispered.
Nothing.
He stood up slowly, heart pounding, searching the dimly lit apartment.
Another scare from the screen. Taehyung shrieked and took off running, eyes wide, body trembling.
“Mr. Jeon?!”
Behind the curtain, Jungkook was nearly in tears from laughter—but his expression quickly changed when he saw Taehyung’s fear had turned real. This wasn’t fun anymore.
Then he heard it, soft and trembling:
“Jungkook… J-Jungkook, I’m scared… please come out…”
His heart dropped.
He rushed out, flicking on the lights. Taehyung was crouched on the floor, curled up, eyes watery and distant.
Jungkook dropped beside him. “Taehyung?”
No response.
“Hey, I’m so sorry—hey, look at me…”
Taehyung finally glanced up, sniffling, pout on full display.
Jungkook felt like the worst person alive.
“You did it on purpose,” Taehyung mumbled.
“I… might have. But not like this, I swear.”
“You’re laughing…”
“No, no—just… you look like an angry little baby.”
“What?!”
Taehyung stood up, still pouting. Jungkook scrambled up with him.
“You need therapy, Mr. Jeon!”
“Well, if you’ll be my therapist…” Jungkook batted his lashes.
Taehyung stared at him like he’d grown another head. Was he… flirting?
Then Jungkook stepped closer, and with a tenderness Taehyung hadn’t expected, wiped the tear tracks from his cheeks.
Taehyung’s heart stumbled. His whole body tingled.
“I’m sorry. Really.”
Taehyung nodded, quietly.
They both looked away, awkward and soft.
“Uhm… we should sleep. We have to leave early tomorrow,” Taehyung said, turning toward the kitchen to clean the leftovers.
That night, as they lay in separate beds, soft laughter echoed into the darkness—two boys in love, tangled in emotions neither fully understood yet.
But both smiling.
Because they were finally together.
Sunlight gently pierced through the half-drawn curtains, casting a golden glow across Jungkook’s bare skin. The warmth nudged his senses, but it was the shrill ring of his phone that finally pulled him out of slumber.
He groaned, dragging a hand across his face before picking up.
“Hey, idiot, where are you?” Mingyu’s voice came through, laced with mock annoyance and genuine impatience.
Jungkook squinted at the time, sitting up sluggishly. “What the hell... I overslept?” he murmured to himself. That never happened—not unless he was medicated. His brows furrowed. Was he that tired?
“Where are you?” Mingyu repeated.
“I’m in heaven, want to join?” he teased before sighing. “Get up, Jungkook. I’m picking you up in an hour. Heading to Yoongi hyung now,” Mingyu said quickly and hung up without another word.
Jungkook exhaled and got out of bed, immediately thinking of Taehyung. Is he still asleep?
He padded softly across the apartment, quietly opening the door to Taehyung’s room. The light filtered in through the blinds, casting delicate shadows across Taehyung’s face. He was curled slightly, the blanket barely covering him, chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm.
Jungkook stepped closer, his heart tugging unexpectedly. His eyes softened.
He kneeled beside the bed and gently reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Taehyung’s forehead, his fingertips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. His thumb lightly caressed the curve of his cheekbone, and something tightened in his chest.
Why does he look so tired... yet so beautiful like this?
“Taehyung,” Jungkook whispered, nudging him carefully.
Taehyung stirred, blinking rapidly before sitting up abruptly. “What—what happened?”
“You forgot?” Jungkook smiled slightly. “We need to leave for the holidays. Mingyu’s coming in an hour.”
Taehyung blinked again, his sleep-addled brain processing slowly. “Oh… Right.”
They got up, quietly moving around the apartment to freshen up and pack what was needed for their three-day trip. The silence was oddly comforting—until they reached the living room.
Taehyung broke it.
“Uh… what will you tell them?” he asked cautiously, adjusting the strap on his small bag.
Jungkook was tying his joggers, only half listening. “About what?”
“About me. That I’m staying with you…”
Jungkook paused. He finished tying, stood up, and looked directly at Taehyung. His gaze was firm, almost unreadable, but his voice was soft.
“They already know we’re married now.”
Taehyung blinked, eyes widening. “Oh… what?” The word left his mouth in a breathless whisper.
“It’s not a big deal, Taehyung,” Jungkook said calmly. “Couples live together. It’s normal.”
Taehyung stared at him, mouth slightly parted. Couples? His mind was spinning. What is he saying? But his heart—his traitorous heart—fluttered. Every time Jungkook claimed him, even jokingly, it made something in him stir. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t real. Yet it felt more real than anything else.
He wanted to argue, ask what he meant. But instead, he stayed silent.
Then a knock echoed.
Mingyu.
“Hey, Taehyung!” Mingyu beamed, waving as they opened the door.
Taehyung smiled back softly. Mingyu’s energy was contagious. His constant efforts to make him feel included never went unnoticed. “Hi,” he greeted.
“Let’s go! It's a bit of a drive.”
As they stepped outside, Taehyung turned to Jungkook. “Jimin?”
Mingyu answered before Jungkook could. “He’s already in the car. Don’t worry—we picked him up.”
“You knew where he lived?”
“Yoongi hyung knew.” Mingyu chuckled.
Jungkook chuckled under his breath, while Taehyung blinked in surprise. When did everyone become so close? He followed them, a bit dazed.
In the car, Taehyung hugged Jimin tightly, comforted by his familiar presence. But then—
“Hey Jungkook,” a cheerful voice called from the front seat.
Taehyung looked up. It was Yena.
Jungkook smiled and leaned forward, giving her a warm hug. Taehyung’s chest tightened without warning. His brows twitched subtly.
Mingyu took the wheel with Yena beside him. Yoongi and Jimin sat in the back. Jungkook and Taehyung ended up in the middle row.
As the journey began, Jungkook and Yena fell into an easy rhythm, laughing, sharing stories from the last ten years. Their bond was evident. Taehyung stared out of the window, half-listening.
Didn’t he say he needed to work? That he didn’t like such distractions? Liar. He frowned slightly. Looks like he was dying to come here.
Suddenly, Jungkook turned and looked at him. His eyebrows raised slightly, like he heard him.
Taehyung quickly looked away. Did I think too loud...?
As everyone around them began to chatter—Mingyu and Yena animated in the front, Jimin and Yoongi bickering at the back—Taehyung felt oddly...alone in a car full of people.
Then something shifted.
A soft weight fell against his shoulder. He looked down.
Jungkook had leaned his head on him.
“What are you doing?” Taehyung whispered, flustered.
“Stop blabbering in your mind,” Jungkook mumbled without opening his eyes.
“Huh?” Taehyung blinked.
“I need some rest,” Jungkook whispered, snaking a hand around Taehyung’s arm. “So I’m borrowing your shoulder. Don’t move.”
He opened one eye, smiled lazily, and closed it again.
Taehyung’s heart stuttered.
He stared at Jungkook, the weight of his head, the warmth of his hand, the quiet intimacy of the moment. It was too much. Too close. Too everything. Yet... he didn’t want it to end.
Why are you doing this to me? he thought. How am I supposed to pretend this means nothing?
But maybe… maybe he didn’t want to pretend.
Just then, his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the message and immediately smiled.
Tae. I’ll get my surgery soon. Eomma is happy too, though she misses you a lot. She cried… but she’s strong. We’ll meet soon, right? And thanks your friend who helped from us. No one helps like that, Tae. He’s really… a good person.
Taehyung’s eyes filled with warmth.
He slowly turned toward the man resting on his shoulder, his heart swelling. Jungkook, with all his quiet gestures, had changed everything. From the roadside to this life… He gave Taehyung not just a home—but dignity. A place. A name.
He reached up and brushed a strand of hair from Jungkook’s face.
Jungkook stirred and gripped his arm more tightly in his sleep.
Taehyung smiled, his eyes glistening. Whatever happens… I will return this kindness. I won’t ever leave his side.
He turned to the window again, the passing scenery blurring into warm colors.
From the front mirror, Mingyu watched them. He exchanged a glance with Yena. They both smiled.
Their friend, after all this time, finally looked at peace.
Chapter 20: Sweater weather
Chapter Text
"So, there are four rooms in total," Mingyu announced, eyeing the layout.
"One for Yena, definitely. How do we divide the rest?"
They had arrived at the farmhouse an hour ago-far from the bustling city, nestled in a quiet pocket of nature. After a light brunch to tame their hunger, the next order of business was assigning rooms.
"Jungkook, you've got some work to do, right?" Yoongi said, almost too casually. "You and Taehyung should take the room upstairs. It's a bit more separate."
Taehyung blinked. He glanced sideways, trying to read Jungkook's expression. Maybe Jungkook wouldn't be comfortable sharing? They had grown closer, but what if he needed space?
Unbeknownst to Taehyung, Jungkook was internally screaming with joy-thanking Yoongi silently like he'd just handed him a golden ticket.
"Yeah, I think that's better," Jungkook said, clearing his throat. "What do you say, Taehyung?"
Taehyung gave a small nod, still unsure. "I'm okay. If you're fine with it."
Their friends exchanged knowing glances. The way these two interacted... like awkward teenagers testing unspoken feelings. It was kind of adorable.
"Okay, three of us are left," Mingyu chimed in. "And there are two rooms left. Yoongi-hyung doesn't like-"
"I'll share with this guy," Yoongi interrupted flatly, nodding toward Jimin. "Mingyu, you take the other one. That single bedroom doesn't suit my taste." He casually grabbed his luggage and walked off.
Everyone stood frozen.
Jimin looked visibly annoyed. His grip tightened on his bag, and without a word, he stormed off toward the room.
The rest of them exchanged glances but said nothing. Maybe they all needed a bit of rest before heading out again.
Inside the room...
Jimin entered and noticed Yoongi was already in the bathroom. He huffed, throwing his bag on the bed with a bit too much force. He was fuming.
"This guy?" he muttered to himself. "He didn't even ask. Just... decided."
He didn't know Yoongi well-only bits of casual conversation. Sharing a room with someone he barely knew made his chest tight. His introverted mind screamed objections, but his lips couldn't form the words to stop it.
He crouched and started unpacking. They were only staying three days, but Jimin had a need to feel grounded-organized. Clothes neatly folded, placed precisely in the cupboard. As if routine could control the discomfort clawing at his skin.
The bathroom door clicked open.
Yoongi walked out, towel slung over his neck, eyes immediately catching the tension written across Jimin's back.
Silence.
It pressed between them like a wall.
Yoongi sighed and finally said, "Are you okay with this room? I mean... with me? I should've asked. I kind of forced it. If you want to switch-"
No response. Jimin kept folding shirts methodically.
Yoongi tried again, a little firmer. "You're really not gonna say anything? I'm genuinely asking you here."
Still nothing.
Jimin finished unpacking and walked to the side table to grab his phone.
Frustrated now, Yoongi stepped toward him. He wasn't the kind of person to chase conversations or apologize -but something about this situation... about Jimin... made him want to try.
He grabbed Jimin's wrist.
"I asked you something-why won't you-"
But he stopped midsentence.
Jimin suddenly jerked his hand away, his body trembling uncontrollably. Yoongi's eyes widened.
"D-Don't touch me!" Jimin stuttered, his voice loud and broken.
Yoongi instantly took a step back, both hands raised.
"I-I was just trying to talk, Jimin. I didn't mean to-"
Jimin looked at him briefly, then quickly turned his gaze away. His breath came out shaky, the edges of guilt softening his features.
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to yell. I just-" he paused, voice fragile. "I'm sorry."
Yoongi offered a small, careful smile. "It's okay. Really. Let's just settle down, yeah? We have to get ready later."
Jimin nodded, forcing a smile back, but Yoongi could still see the slight tremble in his hands. He didn't press further and turned toward his bag, giving the younger space.
Jimin quietly slipped into the restroom.
"Mr. Jeon, this is not-" Taehyung huffed, clearly annoyed.
"It's Jungkook," he corrected with a grin, holding Taehyung's backpack out of reach. "Why is it so hard for you to say my name?"
"I'm just not used to it," Taehyung said, hands on his hips, irritation written all over his face.
"Well, if you don't say my name, you're not getting this back," Jungkook teased, raising the bag higher.
"I need my charger. My phone's dead!" Taehyung lunged forward, but Jungkook dodged with ease again.
But then, Jungkook's eyes caught something-something dangling from the zipper of the bag. A small keychain. His expression changed instantly. He froze.
Taehyung took advantage of the pause and grabbed his bag, victorious. "Gotcha!"
But when he looked up, Jungkook wasn't even fighting back. He was staring at the keychain, his gaze far away.
"Where... where did you get this?" Jungkook asked quietly.
Taehyung glanced down. "Oh, that? Someone dropped it on the bus a while ago. I meant to return it, but the guy got off before I could."
Jungkook's eyes stayed fixed on it. There was something flickering in them-recognition? Nostalgia?
"Is it yours?" Taehyung asked softly.
"Huh?"
"You're looking at it like you lost this."
Jungkook's eyes finally left the keychain and settled on Taehyung. His voice was low, unreadable. "No... I already found what I lost."
Taehyung's heart skipped, unsure why that line made his chest feel tight.
Before he could ask anything more, he held onto his bag and quickly turned, giggling. "Well, thanks for the distraction. I win."
Jungkook chuckled behind him. "You cheated."
"What? You weren't even paying attention!"
"Oh, trust me," Jungkook called after him, smirking. "I was paying very close attention."
Then he grabbed his towel and walked into the restroom.
Taehyung's cheeks turned crimson. He stood still, heart thudding.
"What the hell is he trying to say...?" he muttered, slapping his own cheek lightly. "Flirty jerk. Don't fall for it, Taehyung."
"Where are we going?" Yoongi asked as they all gathered in the living area, slipping on jackets and grabbing bags.
"There's a camping spot nearby," Mingyu said, slinging a bag over his shoulder. "We'll light a small fire, maybe have some drinks."
"But we need to make sure we can get back," Yoongi warned. "If everyone ends up drunk, we're going to have a problem."
"I have high tolerance," Mingyu shrugged. "A little soju won't knock us out, and it's close. We don't need a car."
"Alright, let's gooo!" Yena cheered, practically bouncing toward the door.
By the time they reached the campsite, it was a little past 8 p.m. The night was cool, stars scattered above like shy whispers. They quickly set up a small fire. Jimin and Mingyu handled the meat, while the others laid out blankets and cushions for everyone to sit comfortably.
Yoongi unpacked a small pot of instant noodles and got them ready too, the comforting aroma mixing with the scent of grilled meat.
Laughter bubbled up as they gathered around the fire, eating and chatting.
Jungkook, sitting beside Taehyung, sliced some meat and placed it gently on Taehyung's plate.
"Eat well," he said with a teasing smirk. "Or you'll start looking like an alien soon."
Taehyung blinked at him, deadpan. "At least I won't end up looking like a gorilla. Unlike you."
Mingyu nearly choked on his food, pointing at Jungkook as he burst into laughter. "Gorilla Jungkook!"
"I swear I'll kill you," Jungkook muttered, but he was grinning.
The whole group broke into laughter.
"Ten points to Taehyung," Yoongi announced with a proud smirk.
Taehyung couldn't help but smile at that, feeling a little glow of warmth-not just from the fire.
Jungkook pouted, grumbling, "This is not fair," but inside, he was practically dancing. Taehyung was being himself-relaxed, playful-and that was all he wanted.
Later, the drinks made their way around. Small cups of soju passed from hand to hand.
"Yena, that's enough for you," Mingyu warned.
"You idiot. I'm fine!" she waved him off, then clapped her hands. "Hold on, guys! Let's play Truth or Drink!"
"Oh my god, what are you, five?" Yoongi rolled his eyes.
"You sound like a grandpa," Jimin shot back.
"There they go again," Jungkook muttered, watching the banter unfold with a fond sigh.
"Yah! Stop fighting!" Yena yelled.
"Okay, okay," Mingyu laughed. "Let's do this."
And just like that, they settled in closer around the fire, ready for whatever chaos came next.
( Listen to sweater weather by the neighborhood)
They set up the drinks in a circle, laughter mixing with the soft crackle of the fire. An empty soju bottle was placed in the center, glinting under the firelight.
Mingyu grinned and looked around at everyone. "Alright, let's start."
He gave the bottle a spin. It twirled quickly, slowing until it pointed straight at Yena-with the other end brushing toward Taehyung.
Taehyung glanced at Yena, then side-eyed Jungkook for just a second.
"Are you... dating someone?" Taehyung asked. Maybe it was the alcohol making him bolder.
Yena smiled, tilting her head. "Nope. I'm single." She winked playfully.
Taehyung immediately looked at Jungkook, trying to read his reaction. Jungkook was smiling.
Why is he smiling? Taehyung wondered.
Is he happy she's single? But didn't he say she'll marry someone she loves? What if she loves him? But then... why did Jungkook sign those papers with me? What is going on...
His thoughts spiraled, confusing him more by the second.
"Hey, spin the bottle, Overthinker," Jungkook whispered, nudging him.
Taehyung blinked, snapping out of it. "Oh. Right."
He reached for the bottle and spun it. It landed on Jimin.
Mingyu leaned forward, smirking. "Alright, Jimin. In high school, did you ever have a crush on someone?"
Jimin paused, looking thoughtful. "Not really a crush, but..." He smiled softly. "There was this boy I met during one of our school festivals. We danced together. He was hilarious and kind. I never got his name, but if I had a chance... I'd like to meet him again."
Mingyu grinned, clearly knowing who Jimin was talking about.
"You will," he said with quiet certainty, a fond look in his eyes.
Two people, however, weren't enjoying this sudden heart-eyed moment. Yoongi rolled his eyes.
"If you two are done flirting, can we spin it again?" he said, crossing his arms.
This time, the bottle landed on Taehyung.
Yena's eyes lit up. "Ooo, Taehyung. Tell me... do you like someone?"
Taehyung's throat went dry. His heart pounded, but he didn't want to say anything. Without a word, he reached for his cup and downed the drink in one swift motion.
"Woah, woah!" Mingyu laughed. "Avoiding the question, huh?"
Jungkook silently watched him, his expression unreadable. He had been waiting for that answer... and sighed when it didn't come.
The game continued, the bottle spinning, laughter echoing, questions bouncing between truths and drinks.
Taehyung stayed quiet through most of it-tipsy now, slightly flushed, and lost in the haze of thoughts and feelings he couldn't quite name.
"Okay, last round and then we're done!" Mingyu declared, spinning the soju bottle dramatically. It spun in fast circles before slowing... and stopping with its neck pointing toward Jungkook.
"So-" Yena began but was immediately interrupted.
"I'll ask," Taehyung said, his words slightly slurred as he rested his hand on his cheek, elbow propped up on his knee, eyes squinting with a pout.
Jungkook looked at him, trying not to laugh at how flushed and adorable the elder looked-cheeks red, lips parted, and lashes drooping with sleepiness or tipsiness... or both.
"Mr. Jeon," Taehyung slurred out, pointing lazily around the circle. "Do you like someone here?"
Jungkook leaned back slightly, crossing his arms. His gaze locked with Taehyung's.
"No," he said simply, his voice unreadable.
Taehyung's eyes widened a fraction, and confusion flickered across his face. He doesn't like Yena? But... he doesn't like me either?
Then why does he flirt with me? Why sign the marriage papers with me if he likes her? No-wait, what am I even thinking? Taehyung's mind whirled.
"But-"
"Only one question allowed," Jungkook interrupted with a slight smirk.
Taehyung pouted, looking down at the floor like a scolded child.
"Let's wrap this up. It's almost midnight," Yoongi announced, stretching his arms.
Everyone began gathering their things. Jungkook, Jimin, Yoongi, and Mingyu were mostly sober, while Taehyung and Yena were clearly out of it.
Mingyu helped Yena up when she nearly stumbled.
"I'm okay," she said with a lazy grin.
"Yeah, sure you are," Mingyu chuckled, steadying her.
Yoongi and Jimin packed up the leftovers and bottles, while Jungkook turned to Taehyung.
"Hey, we need to leave," he said, tapping his shoulder gently.
Taehyung's eyes fluttered open. He stood up... and immediately tripped. Jungkook caught him just in time.
Without a second thought, Jungkook crouched down and hoisted him onto his back.
Taehyung giggled against his ear. "Mr. Gorilla-yah!"
Jungkook laughed. "You're gonna regret all of this in the morning."
The others walked ahead, leaving the two trailing behind. Jungkook moved slowly on purpose, enjoying the warmth of Taehyung's arms draped around him, his breath brushing against his neck.
"Jungkook... Kookie bunny... Rabbit..."
Jungkook snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of those ridiculous but heart-melting nicknames.
"What's wrong, Mr. Baby Bear?"
"I'm not a bear," Taehyung grumbled.
"Okay, okay. What's wrong then, baby?" Jungkook teased gently.
Taehyung blushed and buried his face in the crook of Jungkook's neck, giggling.
"Oh, you're blushing?" Jungkook teased.
"I'm not!" Taehyung smacked him weakly on the shoulder.
Jungkook smiled as they approached the farmhouse. He carried Taehyung inside and gently set him down on the bed.
But Taehyung stood up again, swaying slightly. "I want another ride," he mumbled.
Jungkook blinked. "What?"
"Another piggyback. Just one more," Taehyung whined, grabbing at Jungkook's arm like a child.
Jungkook chuckled. "It's past midnight. You need to sleep."
"But-"
"Nope," Jungkook said, tucking him under the blanket like a parent handling a stubborn kid. He started to walk away.
"Where are you going?" Taehyung asked.
"To sleep," Jungkook said, pointing at the other side of the bed.
"If you're uncomfortable, I can sleep on the cou-"
"NO. You can sleep here," Taehyung snapped, pulling the blanket over his face with a huff.
Jungkook grinned. He changed into comfortable clothes and climbed into bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling.
Today was good. Really good. His heart felt light-lighter than it had in years. Being with Taehyung like this brought him a strange, overwhelming peace.
He heard soft shuffling beside him but didn't look.
Taehyung, with all the courage alcohol could offer, peeked out from under the blanket. He stared at Jungkook... then giggled and quickly hid again. A moment later, he peeked again.
But this time, Jungkook had turned toward him.
"You sneaky human," Jungkook chuckled, locking eyes with him.
Taehyung froze. Then, slowly, he reached out and poked Jungkook's cheek.
Jungkook caught his hand.
Taehyung tried to pull away, but Jungkook held firm-and gently tugged, pulling Taehyung against his chest.
Taehyung's heart was racing now. He could barely breathe. His hands fisted the fabric of Jungkook's shirt.
"You're a jerk," Taehyung mumbled.
"What? Why?" Jungkook asked softly, confused.
"Because..." Taehyung whispered, cheeks burning. "You say you don't like anyone... but you flirt with everyone."
Jungkook laughed, letting go slightly but still keeping him close. "Who did I flirt with?"
"Yena. Me. Then you say you don't like us. That's a jerk thing."
Jungkook lifted a hand and gently pressed a finger to Taehyung's lips. "Stop pouting, idiot. Yes, I flirted... but it was only with you. Never Yena."
Taehyung's heart flipped. The beats are so loud that he can hear them so clearly.
"You're making my heart weak," he murmured.
"Huh?" Jungkook tilted his head, amused.
"Stop flirting... or I'll die. My heart can't handle it," Taehyung whined.
Jungkook's smile softened. His gaze grew tender. He's not joking, is he? But he won't remember any of this tomorrow... stupid alcohol.
Taehyung whispered. "you don't like me then...?"
Jungkook gently took his hand and kissed his palm.
"It's past the liking, Taehyung."
Taehyung stared at him, breath caught in his throat. "Past the liking... then it's..."
He trailed off, watching Jungkook with wide eyes.
Neither of them said anything. They just laid there, staring, breathing, feeling.
Then Taehyung tugged at Jungkook's collar. "Can you kiss me?"
Jungkook blinked. "What? Taehyung, you're drunk-"
"But I want to..." he whined again, voice shaking.
"No."
Taehyung let go, retreating. His eyes shimmered, and he turned his face away.
Jungkook noticed instantly. Damn it.
He didn't want their first kiss to be clouded by alcohol. But Taehyung looked so heartbreakingly vulnerable right now-eyes glistening, mouth trembling.
He reached out and cupped Taehyung's cheek, drawing his face back.
Taehyung froze.
Jungkook leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his closed eyelid... then another to his cheek.
"Is this enough?" he whispered.
Taehyung nodded shyly, then threw his arms around Jungkook, snuggling close.
Jungkook smiled, hugging him back.
The two of them giggled quietly beneath the covers, tangled in warmth and sleep and something that felt a lot like love.
And that night, hey both slept soundly-hearts a little braver, a little fuller.
Chapter 21: I wanna be yours
Chapter Text
A faint golden glow slipped through the narrow crack between the curtains, gently spilling into the room. It warmed the edges of the bed and the floor like an embrace, gradually coaxing the quiet space to life.
The light reached the figure lying tangled beneath the sheets. Taehyung stirred with a soft groan, squinting as the brightness prickled at his eyes. A dull throb echoed through his head, pulling a deeper groan from his lips.
“Ahhh…” he murmured, blinking up at the ceiling, the pain a stubborn reminder of the previous night.
He slowly sat up, dragging a hand through his tousled hair, trying to stretch the stiffness from his limbs. The room was quiet. Jungkook was gone.
His gaze swept over the familiar space—too still, too empty. A soft sigh escaped his lips.
Right… Jungkook must’ve left early.
But then—his heart skipped a beat.
Wait. Wasn’t last night… their first time staying together in a room?
His stomach turned.
“Shit…” he whispered under his breath. “Taehyung… don’t tell me…”
Flashes of laughter, the taste of alcohol, blurry moments and flushed skin returned in disjointed pieces. His fingers moved up to rub at his temples, as if willing the memories to come together.
Kookie… bunny rabbit…
I want another ride…
You’re a jerk…
His eyes widened. His hand flew up to cover his mouth.
“Oh no…” he muttered. “Tell me I didn’t say that out loud.”
A deep flush crept up his neck.
Why does embarrassment always find me like this?
He shifted uncomfortably on the bed. Just as he was piecing together another memory, another sharp image struck him like lightning.
Can you kiss me?
His breath caught. Time stilled.
“No—no, no, no…” he screamed in disbelief, his heart now pounding. “That wasn’t real. That had to be a dream.”
Just after a minute, the door creaked open.
“Taehyung?” Jimin’s voice came gently, but laced with concern. “Why’d you scream? Everything okay?”
Taehyung’s head snapped toward the door. Jimin stood there in casual clothes, brows knit in worry.
“Oh…” Taehyung forced a smile, awkward and too quick. “Yeah… I’m fine.”
“You sure?” Jimin stepped in a little closer, not fully convinced.
Taehyung nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah. Just… a weird dream, that’s all.”
Jimin tilted his head, then gave a small chuckle. “Alright… if you say so. Come downstairs—breakfast’s ready. It’s almost noon.”
“What?” Taehyung blinked. “Noon already?”
Jimin grinned. “Yep. You overslept. Now get cleaned up.”
He turned to leave, but paused when Taehyung called softly.
“Uh… Jimin?”
“Hmm?”
“Is… Jungkook downstairs?”
Jimin turned his head. “No. He left earlier.”
Taehyung’s stomach dipped.
“Left?” he echoed, trying to keep his tone neutral. “Why? For what?”
Jimin gave a light shrug. “Work. Something urgent, I think. I saw him this morning going through some files. He left around 10, said he’d be back by evening.”
Taehyung gave a small nod, mumbling a soft, “I see…”
“Now come on,” Jimin said gently. “Freshen up. Then we’ll catch up, okay?”
With that, he disappeared down the hallway.
Taehyung remained still for a moment. The silence in the room returned, but this time, it was heavier. A storm brewed in his chest. Shame. Uncertainty. Something that felt suspiciously close to hope.
At least Jungkook’s not here… I don’t know what I’d say to him. Or what I did after I asked that question…
He stood slowly and made his way to the bathroom. The splash of cold water revived his senses. He dried his face and stared into the mirror.
His reflection was still flushed. Still dazed.
His fingers reached up, brushing lightly across his lips—his heart fluttering as if touched by a ghost.
Did I… actually say that? Did he hear me?
He smiled without realizing. His cheeks warmed further.
“Kim Taehyung…” he muttered to himself, ruffling his hair. “Get a grip.”
He stepped out of the room, headed downstairs for breakfast, then quietly made his way to Jimin’s room.
“Hey,” he called softly, knocking on the open door.
“Come in, Tae!” Jimin chirped from the couch.
Taehyung entered, hands in his pockets. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Mingyu and Yena went to the café nearby,” Jimin replied. “Yoongi’s out in the garden, I think. And Mr jeon… like I said, work stuff.”
Taehyung chewed on his bottom lip. “He didn’t say where exactly?”
“No, just something important at the company. He was up before all of us.”
Taehyung nodded again, but his thoughts were far away.
Jimin noticed. “Tae… you okay?”
Taehyung looked at his friend—someone he trusted, someone who always waited until he was ready to talk. He wants to share with his friend not the past but at least now he can.
“I want to tell you something…”
Jimin closed his laptop and gave his full attention. “I’m listening.”
“You remember I told you I was staying with Jungkook… that he helped with Mom and Noona?”
“Yeah. And I didn’t ask more because I figured you’d open up when the time was right.”
Taehyung nodded. “Well… the thing is… we signed something.”
Jimin blinked. “Signed what?”
“A contract,” Taehyung said softly, but then added quickly, “But not like that—not something shady.”
“Wait—Tae… is he blackmailing you or something? If he—”
“No! No, Jimin,” Taehyung interrupted firmly. “It’s nothing like that.There is not even a clause.”
He inhaled deeply, then let the words fall from his lips.
“We signed a marriage contract.”
Jimin’s eyes widened. “What?”
Taehyung raised a hand, signaling him to let him finish. “It’s not real—well, it is legally—but it’s… it was for appearances. He helped me when no one else did. He paid for my sister’s surgery. And now… my mom smiles again. They both do. All because of him. So… I said yes.”
Jimin watched him carefully. Taehyung didn’t even realize he was smiling as he spoke.
“He said we could end it whenever I wanted… but I don’t want it to end.”
His voice softened near the end, and his eyes shimmered just a little.
Jimin was quiet for a moment. “Tae… do you like him?”
Taehyung looked at him, breath caught in his chest.
“I think…” he whispered, “I think I’m past the liking, Jimin.”
A small, understanding smile curved on Jimin’s lips. He pulled his friend into a hug.
“It’s okay,” he said softly. “We can’t control who we fall for.”
Taehyung clutched the back of Jimin’s shirt, holding onto the warmth of reassurance.
They pulled back after a moment, both smiling quietly.
“You know,” Jimin said with a chuckle, “I had a feeling something was going on between you two. But marriage? That I didn’t expect.”
Taehyung laughed. “Technically… it’s just a contract.”
Jimin raised an eyebrow. “Maybe. But I don’t think Mr. Jeon is treating it like one.”
Taehyung blinked. “What do you mean?”
Jimin shrugged, playful. “Just saying… the way he looks at you? It’s different.”
A sudden flutter passed through Taehyung’s chest, and color rushed to his cheeks. He looked at his hand where he is wearing the ring.
“He’s just… kind,” he said quietly. “I’ve never met anyone like him.”
Jimin tilted his head. “Maybe. But you know… I swear I’ve seen him before. Him and Mingyu too. I just can’t figure out where.”
Taehyung chuckled. “They’re in the business news sometimes. Maybe from there?”
“i don't think so but may be…” Jimin mused.
The conversation slowly melted into laughter, soft teasing, and stories about everything they’d missed in each other’s lives. The room filled with warmth—the kind only old friends could offer. They did breakfast together.
But in the quiet corners of Taehyung’s heart, thoughts of Jungkook still lingered.
And something deeper than gratitude was starting to bloom.
“Jungkook said he might be late. Let’s go ahead. Maybe he’ll join us there,” Mingyu said, slipping his phone into his pocket and glancing around at the rest of them.
No one protested.
Taehyung stood there for a second longer, hesitating as though his feet were unwilling to move. He didn't know why—but a quiet ache had taken root in his chest since morning. A sort of restlessness that made his thoughts feel heavier than usual. He told himself it was nothing. Just a passing unease. But deep down, something gnawed at him, some kind of silent worry. He just hoped—really hoped—that everything was okay.
The group settled into the car, the ride quiet save for the soft hum of the engine and scattered remarks about the place they were going. Taehyung leaned his head against the window, eyes tracing the blurred lights as they passed by. His phone rested in his lap. Silent. No message. No call.
The car pulled up at a cozy, open-air restaurant nestled just off the road. The area was quiet, the world dimmed down, with soft golden fairy lights strung around the edges of the patio, flickering gently like fireflies in the dark.
A warm voice greeted them at the entrance.
“Welcome,” the employee said with a smile, bowing slightly.
They followed the server and settled around a rustic wooden table. The atmosphere was relaxed—gentle music, laughter from nearby tables, the faint sound of crickets beyond the lights. They skimmed through the menu, placing orders, exchanging light conversation.
But Taehyung…
He wasn’t really there.
He stared at his glass, fingers tracing the condensation, his thoughts drifting somewhere far beyond the table.
“Taehyung?” Yena’s soft voice broke through. “You alright? You seem… down.”
Mingyu smirked, resting his elbow on the table and nudging Taehyung playfully.
“He’s probably missing his other half.”
Taehyung blinked, caught off guard.
“What? No—” He laughed nervously, eyes darting down to his hands as he started fidgeting with his fingers. “It’s not like that.”
“You could text him, you know,” Yoongi said calmly, not even looking up from his drink. “He doesn’t bite.”
A small smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips.
“We’re not on those terms. You all know that,” he said, his voice almost too even—as if rehearsed. “There’s nothing between us. It’s just professional. He’s kind to me because I work for him… and I’m respectful because I owe him. That’s all.”
Yoongi finally looked up, his gaze sharp and knowing.
“You’re telling us, or convincing yourself?”
Taehyung’s smile faltered.
His eyes dropped to his lap.
And silence fell again.
Because they all knew. Every one of them at that table had seen it—the way Taehyung’s expression softened when Jungkook entered a room. The way Jungkook watched him when he thought no one else noticed. It was complicated. Too complicated for outsiders to untangle. And none of them felt it was their place to push either of them.
Dinner arrived. Plates were placed gently on the table by the waiter, the sizzle of hot steak filling the brief silence.
“Here, Tae,” Jimin said, pushing Taehyung’s plate toward him. “Start eating before it gets cold.”
Taehyung looked at the steak but didn’t pick up his fork.
“Jungkook hasn’t arrived yet,” he said quietly.
“He didn’t say he would for sure,” Mingyu replied between bites. “Maybe he won’t come.”
Taehyung stared at the plate for another moment, then quietly stood up.
“Where are you going?” Jimin asked, already half rising from his seat.
“I’m not leaving. Just—” Taehyung pointed to a wooden bench near the edge of the restaurant’s patio, under a small tree tangled in lights. “Just going over there for a bit. Five minutes.”
And before Jimin could stop him, he walked away—his shoulders slightly hunched, hands tucked into his coat pockets.
“Let him be,” Yoongi said, switching plates with Jimin with a sigh. “He’ll come back after clearing his head.”
Jimin blinked at the sudden gesture.The steak is being cut nicely into pieces.
“What—why did you switch plates with me?”
“He’s just being civil,” Mingyu snorted.
Yoongi shot him a glare.
Mingyu bit his lip, holding back a laugh, clearly enjoying Yoongi’s barely-concealed flustered state.
Jimin shook his head, smiling faintly as he started to eat, but not before his eyes flicked back toward Taehyung—who now sat quietly on the bench, his head tilted up toward the sky, lost in thoughts that none of them could reach.
And even from that distance, it was obvious.
He wasn’t waiting for the stars.
He was waiting for someone who might not come.
Taehyung stepped toward the small wooden bench tucked beneath a faintly glowing lamp. The evening had turned cooler, and a hush had settled over the quiet, roadside restaurant. The gentle clinking of cutlery and distant laughter faded behind him as he sat down, wrapping his arms around himself.
Above him, stars were starting to bloom in the indigo sky—fragile and scattered, like pieces of a silent promise.
He stared at his phone, the screen glowing pale against his fingers. His thumb hovered over a name and for a long moment, he just breathed. In. Out.
And then, almost on instinct, he tapped the call button.
He brought the phone to his ear, biting his lower lip as the call rang. Once. Twice. A soft static rustle filtered through before a voice came.
“Hello?”
That voice.
Taehyung’s heart skipped, like it always did. It never failed to respond—an involuntary flutter just at the sound of him.
But he stayed quiet, breath caught somewhere in his throat.
“Taehyung?” Jungkook's voice again—more certain, more intimate now.
Swallowing hard, Taehyung gathered whatever courage he could and spoke, voice quieter than usual.
“Are… are you not coming to dinner?”
There was a pause. The kind that stretches wide between hearts, filled with unspoken things.
Then Jungkook asked softly, “Do you want me to come?”
Taehyung’s breath hitched.
His mouth opened, but no words came. Of course I want you to come, he thought. But how could he say it? After all the things he’d blurted out in drunken honesty… after how much he had confused himself, and maybe even hurt Jungkook. After how many times he had told himself—don’t mistake kindness for love.
He didn’t want to sound needy. Didn’t want to be too much again.
So instead, he mumbled, “Your friends said you might join, so… I just called to check. You must be busy. It’s okay. Goodbye.”
He was about to end the call, thumb brushing over the screen—when Jungkook’s voice suddenly came again, firm but calm.
“Why aren’t you eating then?”
Taehyung blinked. “Huh?”
“Look to your right, idiot.”
Taehyung slowly turned his head.
And there he was.
The man of his dreams.
Jungkook stood a few feet away, dressed in a sleek black outfit, looking right at him with those eyes—eyes that somehow held galaxies when they met his own. Taehyung’s throat tightened. He didn’t know what was happening. But the moment felt so heavy, so full—he could cry right there.
He remembered when Jungkook had touched his hand to tend his wound. That was the moment. The moment his heart had started to shift.
But he did nothing.
Back then, he thought Jungkook might marry Yena. He’d cried alone, buried the feelings deep, told himself to forget. He even blamed Jungkook for confusing him—but truthfully, it was himself who was lost.
Because he knew. He knew he had fallen. Hard.
But he also knew they were from different worlds. Jungkook stood high, where Taehyung could never reach. And he… he was just a nobody.
He shouldn’t be dreaming of kings.
He shouldn’t mistake kindness for affection.
Still, now, the king was walking toward him, closing the distance.
“Hy,” Jungkook said with a small smile.
Taehyung stared, dazed, the word catching in his ears too slowly.
Jungkook waved a hand in front of his face. “Taehyung? You there?”
He blinked and stuttered, “Oh—yeah…”
“You look pale,” Jungkook said, reaching up instinctively to touch his face—but Taehyung stepped back.
Jungkook’s hand froze in the air. He looked hurt. Confused.
Taehyung saw it. And instantly regretted it.
“Sorry… I didn’t mean to overstep,” Jungkook mumbled, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
And that’s when Taehyung broke.
Tears welled in his eyes, slipping quietly down his cheeks. Jungkook panicked.
“Hey, what’s wrong? I didn’t mean—please, Taehyung, I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you—”
He stepped forward but paused, unsure.
Taehyung just stood there, crying, hiccuping, his hands trembling.
“It’s hurting…” he whispered.
“You’re hurt?” Jungkook leaned closer. “Where? Let me see. Can I?”
Taehyung clutched his shirt tightly over his chest.
“Here. It’s hurting here.”
Jungkook's expression softened. He stepped forward and cupped Taehyung’s tear-stained cheeks, brushing the tears away.
“Tell me what happened,” he said gently. “I’ll help you. Just talk to me.”
The tenderness was too much. The warmth of those hands—Taehyung couldn’t take it anymore.
He cried harder.
“Taehyung, please,” Jungkook whispered. “Please talk to me. It’s hurting me too…”
And then, between tears, Taehyung gripped Jungkook’s hand and blurted out:
“I think I f-fell in l-love. And it’s hurting.”
Jungkook froze. His heart skipped a beat. Love? With who? No. It couldn’t be. Not someone else. Please, not someone else.
But he held back. Because he remembered too. When he had fallen for Taehyung—he had cried too. So he can understands Taehyung. He has to soothes Taehyung not to think about his heartache now.
So he forced a chuckle, pushing away the ache.
“You’re dumb,” he teased lightly. “Why are you crying? Love is… a good thing. If you’re scared to confess, I’ll help you.”
Taehyung looked up at him with a tearful pout.
“You’ll help me?”
Jungkook’s smile faltered—but he nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”
“Then tell me,” Taehyung asked quietly, “how should I confess?”
Jungkook’s hands trembled, and his heart ached. He wanted to scream no. That Taehyung belonged to him. But he saw the pain in Taehyung’s eyes. So instead, he said:
“How bold of you… asking your husband for advice like this.”
“But… it’s just a contract,” Taehyung replied.
“Yeah,” Jungkook whispered. “Just a contract. I was joking.”
Both idiots.
“You said you’d help me. So… tell me. How do I make this pain stop?” Taehyung asked with tearful eyes. Staring at jungkook to get an idea, to read his eyes.
“Go to them. Before it’s too late. Just tell them how you feel. It’s better to speak than to live with regret.”
“What if they reject me?”
“Then they’re an idiot. No one in their right mind would reject you.” jungkook said with a sad smile that did not reach his eyes.
His hands trembling, his heart aching. But he stood there like nothing. He then pushed his hands in his pockets and start staring at the lights that are illuminating the area.
He chuckled and then speak again. " If they still reject punch them or kick them."
Taehyung stared at him, tears lingering in his lashes. And for a second he saw hope by just looking at Jungkook.
“Then you should be ready.”
“Huh?” Jungkook’s head snapped towards him.
“Because I fell for you, Mr. Jeon.”
Taehyung’s voice trembled. “I know we haven’t known each other that long… but I fell. And it hurts. You’re so close, yet my heart aches just from looking at you. I thought the feeling would fade, but staying beside you… I’m down bad.”
He lowered his eyes, unsure of Jungkook’s reaction.
Jungkook stood still. Stunned. Taehyung loves me? Is this real? His heart overwhelmed. Taehyung loves me. And it's a cue for him.
“What… should I do now?” Taehyung whispered.
And then Jungkook moved.
He stepped forward, wrapped Taehyung in his arms tightly, one hand cradling his head, the other at his waist.
“Shh… I’ve got you,” he whispered.
Taehyung collapsed into his chest, crying even harder. He clutched Jungkook’s shirt like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
“Taehyung…” Jungkook said softly.
Taehyung sobbed harder, unable to answer.
Jungkook held him closer, his own heart thudding wildly. He loves me too. He really does. Jungkook looked at sky and wished this moment should not end.
After a while, when Taehyung’s sobs had softened, Jungkook pulled back gently, wiping his tears.
“Let’s go somewhere else, hmm?” he said with a smile.
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
He grabbed Taehyung’s wrist and gently tugged him forward.
“But… what about the others?” Taehyung asked, looking back.
“No one’s there anymore. I texted Mingyu before I came. Told them we’ll come later—they left.”
Taehyung smiled sheepishly.
They got into Jungkook’s car. As they drove through the quiet streets, Taehyung looked out the window. He felt lighter now. Jungkook hadn’t said it back… but he hadn’t rejected him either. There was hope.
Meanwhile, Jungkook was smiling to himself. Finally. Tonight, he would tell him everything. He needs to confess now badly.
He glanced at Taehyung, reached over, and squeezed his hand.
Taehyung looked back at him—and smiled.
But then—
“JUNGKOOK!”
A motorbike swerved out of nowhere, its headlights blinding.
Jungkook’s eyes widened. His instincts kicked in.
He turned the wheel—hard.
Tires screamed against the asphalt.
And then—
CRASH.
The impact came like a thunderclap.
Glass shattered into a thousand cruel fragments.
Metal bent. The air filled with a dull, sickening crunch.
The car slammed into a tree with such force it silenced the night.
Inside—
Taehyung’s body jerked violently with the impact.
His head hit the window, and then—stillness.
A thin stream of blood traced down his forehead, gliding slowly over pale skin.
His eyes were closed. He didn’t move.
Jungkook’s body was thrown forward, his chest colliding with the steering wheel.
A groan escaped him—barely.
Pain bloomed in his head, his ribs. Everything was spinning.
But even in the haze, in the pulsing pain…
His hand—was still wrapped around Taehyung’s.
Fingers trembling. Refusing to let go.
“Taehyung…” he breathed out weakly. His voice cracked.
His vision blurred again—tears or blood, he didn’t know.
His heart thudded in panic. In fear.
In regret.
He looked at Taehyung, at the way his body slumped—so still, too still.
Cruel fate.
Why now?
Why him?
Why them?
A tear slid down Jungkook’s cheek, mixing with the blood on his skin.
His voice came again, a ghost of a whisper.
“Taehyung-ah… I… I f-fell for you too…”
He squeezed the other’s hand with what little strength he had left.
And then—
Everything slipped away.
The pain.
The sounds.
The world.
Darkness closed in, silent and cold.
And just before it consumed him, he felt the warmth of Taehyung’s hand in his one last time.
Footsteps echoed outside the wrecked car.
The door opened. A man leaned in, checked their pulses.
Then he pulled out his phone.
“Hello?”
“It’s done.”
“Both alive?”
“Yes.”
“Proceed as instructed.” from other side a voice came.
“…Understood.”
The call ended.
Silence returned.
And the night swallowed the road once again.
Chapter 22: For us
Chapter Text
It was raining.
Not cold or harsh — but soft, summer rain. Jungkook stood barefoot on damp grass, his gaze lifted to a sky that looked like it was weeping light.
Taehyung was there.
Laughing. Spinning. His hands cupped around his mouth as he shouted something toward the hills, but Jungkook couldn’t hear it — the world had gone muted.
He ran toward him, breathless and warm, and when he reached him, Taehyung turned, smiling.
“Jungkook, I waited—”
And then his smile shattered.
Rain turned red. Sky cracked open. Trees burned.
Taehyung was screaming now — but not in sound. His mouth moved like he was drowning. A hand reached out.
Jungkook reached too.
Fingers missed.
The earth shook beneath them. Glass rained from the clouds. A screech of tires. Metal crushing bone.
Then
Taehyung was gone.
And everything turned black.
Jungkook gasped awake.
The world was sterile white. Stiff. Sharp.
A sharp beeping nearby kept time with the thudding of his heart. His chest burned. His head throbbed. There was a taste of blood on his tongue.
He didn’t know where he was — not yet.
But he knew what he had lost.
“Taehyung…”
His throat croaked the name like a prayer. His hands twitched against the IV tubes and gauze. When he turned his head, pain knifed down his neck, but he didn’t care.
The dream still clung to him like smoke.
He remembered the crash. The motorbike. The tree. The way Taehyung’s hand stayed gripped in his, even when the world shattered.
He remembered his own words.
"Taehyung-ah... I fell for you too."
His stomach lurched. “No, no, no—”
He tried to sit up — alarms beeped faster, oxygen tubes yanked loose — a nurse rushed in.
“Mr. Jeon, you’re not stable—!”
“Where is he?” Jungkook rasped. “Where is Taehyung?!”
His voice cracked. Raw. Barely recognizable.
It wasn’t just panic—it was pain that clawed up his throat.
The nurse hesitated. That hesitation was worse than any answer. She looked down. Fumbled with her tablet.
"There was… no one registered under that name. The paramedics only brought you."
"No—no. That’s not right."
His voice rose, breathing unsteady.
“He was with me. He was in the car—I held his hand. He was—”
A flash. Taehyung slumped. Blood. His hand going cold in Jungkook’s.
The machines beeped faster.
She called for the doctor, but Jungkook didn’t hear her. His mind was racing too fast. Images and fears collapsing into each other like dominos. Where was Taehyung? Why wasn’t he here? What if—
Did he… die?
No.
He refused to believe that.
He would have felt it.
Jungkook stared out the window, storm clouds forming beyond the glass. His thoughts replayed everything. Taehyung’s confession. His own whispered one just before the crash. Their intertwined fingers. The warmth. The blood.
He was going to tell him.
After six years of loving him in silence. Watching from the shadows. Protecting him even from truths Taehyung deserved to know.
He never got the chance.
Now all he had was silence.
The door creaked open.
His grandfather entered.
Chairman Jeon, a man made of marble and iron. Regal, cold. The kind of man whose presence made the air feel heavier.
"You’re awake," he said calmly, as if Jungkook had simply overslept. “That’s a relief.”
Jungkook didn’t speak.
He stared. Observed. Searched his face for… something. Concern? Guilt?
Nothing.
"Where’s Taehyung?"
His voice was barely more than a whisper, but it cut through the room.
The Chairman raised an eyebrow. Slowly took a seat beside the bed.
"He wasn’t found at the site."
"Liar."
That one word came like a stone through glass.
Chairman Jeon narrowed his eyes. Jungkook didn’t flinch.
"You know something. You always know something."
Jungkook’s voice cracked.
“You didn’t even look surprised when I said his name. You’ve done something.”
A pause. And then…
A small smile played at the corner of his grandfather’s lips.
Not a kind one.
“Or maybe,” the Chairman said, rising from his chair, adjusting his cufflinks, “you’re just now realizing how naïve you’ve been. Maybe the boy and his father took advantage of your little… infatuation.”
Jungkook’s breath caught.
“Maybe,” the Chairman continued, smooth and cruel, “he was only ever using you. Like his father used your parents’ kindness. And when he got what he wanted—he ran.”
Jungkook’s fists clenched under the blanket.
He wanted to scream. Punch. Rip through the lies.
But part of him—deep down, where trauma and fear lived—was afraid.
What if his grandfather was right?
What if Taehyung… really was gone?
No.
Taehyung wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t.
The memory of Taehyung’s voice. "Mr jeon.....I fell for you.”
So quiet. So pure. Just hours before the crash. Just before the world shifted.
No. He wasn’t lying. He wouldn’t lie.
But his grandfather wasn’t finished.
“It’s time you stop letting emotions cloud your judgment.”
His voice lowered now. A warning. “And start thinking about what comes next. About your future. About the company.”
He leaned in closer.
“We’ll handle him.”
And just like that, he turned and left.
Jungkook was alone again.
Except now the room was filled with the echo of that final phrase.
“We’ll handle him.”
A storm raged in his chest. Not just worry. Not just guilt.
Rage.
Despair.
Love.
Taehyung was somewhere out there—and Jungkook knew with every broken, burning piece of him—
They had taken him.
And he would burn everything down to find him.
The walls of the hospital room felt too quiet after his grandfather left. The beeping machines dulled into a low hum, the white light overhead an unforgiving glare against the cracks forming in Jungkook’s heart. His fingers trembled against the sheets, clenched into fists then released, again and again — like he was trying to squeeze reality into something he could understand.
But nothing made sense.
Not Taehyung’s disappearance.
Not his grandfather’s ominous words.
Not this aching sense of dread ballooning inside him.
The nurse came in again, suggesting rest, but Jungkook was already halfway out of the bed, dragging IV lines with him before she could stop him.
Yoongi’s apartment was quiet when Jungkook reached. The city was painted in tired shades of dusk, and his footsteps echoed in the hallway like guilt on repeat. The knock he gave was soft but urgent.
Yoongi opened the door, eyes widening the second he saw him.
“Jungkook? What the hell—”
Jungkook didn’t wait. He stumbled in, breath shallow, his frame slightly hunched as if holding something in — something heavy and wild.
Yoongi shut the door quickly.
“You were supposed to be on a trip. You both never came back. What happened? Where the hell were you?”
Jungkook turned, his eyes red, not from tears but restraint.
“Hyung... I don’t have time. Taehyung—he’s missing. I need your help. We have to find him. Now.”
Yoongi blinked. “What?”
“They took him,” Jungkook’s voice cracked. “My grandfather—he’s dangerous. We need to hurry. If we’re late—”
Yoongi grasped his shoulders. “Jungkook, slow down. Who took him? Why would your grandfather—?”
Jungkook pulled away, pacing.
“It’s complicated. Remember the trip I left midway? I met someone. An investigator. I found out… my grandfather’s accounts.Taehyung… he got dragged into it.”
Yoongi’s frown deepened. “You think he’s being used to keep you in check?”
Jungkook nodded slowly. “He’s going to use Taehyung. Or worse—to prove some point. I don’t know what. But I know that man. He doesn’t warn. He eliminates.”
Yoongi didn’t waste time. He pulled out his phone and called Mingyu, voice low and clipped. “We’ve got a situation. Get the team. "
Later, after the calls were made and leads were discussed, Jungkook sat hunched on the edge of Yoongi’s couch. His hands were white from how tightly he clutched his phone. The screen glared at him—no number. No message. Nothing.
His thumb hovered over phone. A dead end. No number.
He threw the phone against the wall.
CRASH.
Yoongi startled but didn’t flinch. Jungkook was already shaking, standing amidst broken glass, fists clenched.
“It’s my fault.”
His voice was soft but dangerous—too quiet, too full.
“If I had stayed away… If I hadn’t approached him…”
He was gasping now. “He would have been safe. I dragged him into this mess.”
He collapsed back onto the couch, hands covering his face. Shoulders trembling.
Mingyu reached out, but it was Yoongi who pulled him in, strong arms grounding him.
“You’re not the cause, Jungkook-ah.”
“I am,” he sobbed. “He didn’t even know me—nothing. First his father ruined his life. Now me. What’s the difference?”
“Stop it,” Yoongi said firmly, voice catching. “Hyung will find him, alright? I promise. You have to trust us. Just… hold on a bit longer.”
Jungkook’s face was pressed against Yoongi’s shoulder, muffled words escaping like broken glass.
“Please… find him. Please, hyung.”
Whole day passed.
No news.
Not even a trace.
Jungkook couldn’t wait anymore.
He marched through the Jeon estate like a ghost — cold, purposeful. Guards stepped aside with whispers. The house was too quiet for such a grand place.
He found his grandfather in the reading lounge, sipping tea like nothing had happened.
“Where is he?”
The words came low, clenched from his chest. “If something happens to him, I’ll destroy everything you built.”
The Chairman looked up slowly. A soft, cruel smile.
“So we’re done pretending now.”
He set the teacup down.
“You really think you scare me, Jungkook? You handed accounts to media behind me hmm.”
His voice dropped to something darker.
“You think you can play against me?”
He stood.
“You were barely eighteen when I started pulling your strings. You thought it was you who carried all-time? You think that marriage, that meeting, any of it was a coincidence? No. I let it happen. I wanted it to happen.”
Jungkook’s breath caught.
“You're in my control, Jungkook. You have to be.”
The Chairman circled him like a hawk.
“You’re just like your father. Foolish. Idealistic. And now, you’ll bear his consequences. I thought I will train you so you will be by my side but you want to play your own games.”
“Why him?” Jungkook choked. “Taehyung has nothing to do with this. Let him go.”
His grandfather’s eyes narrowed.
“I didn’t want to involve him. But you made me. So now... you’ll wait.”
He straightened his blazer, walking past Jungkook like he didn’t exist.
“You’ll know tomorrow.” with this he turned and left.
Jungkook's shouted. " Let him go. I will do whatever you say. LET HIM GO. "
Chairman jeon chuckled but did not turned. " He is in between you and me. He needs to be away from your mind so you can work like before. " And with that he left.
Jungkook returned to their apartment.
Everything was quiet.
Too quiet.
He dragged himself to the couch, the same place Taehyung had once danced barefoot with coffee, giggling at dramas.
The same couch where they sat first time to sign the papers. He looked at his hand, the ring settling on his hand.
The silence screamed now.
He shut his eyes — memories attacking.
Taehyung’s sleepy face in the morning. The way he’d hum random tune.The confession Taehyung finally did.
It’s my fault.
He stared at the ceiling, head pounding. But it was nothing compared to the hole inside his chest.
Where are you?
Are you okay?
Are you even conscious?
The image of Taehyung’s blood-soaked shirt wouldn’t leave his mind.
He clenched his fists.
“If… If I find him, I’ll let him go.”
He whispered to the walls.
“I’ll send him far away. Somewhere safe. No more secrets. No more me.”
His phone buzzed.
Yoongi.
He answered, but couldn’t speak. His throat burned.
“Jungkook? Are you alright? You should come in my place.hmm?”
Silence.
Then finally, in a broken, breathless whisper—
“Hyung… I want to see him. Please… find him.”
Yoongi didn’t answer immediately.
Because what do you say to a boy who’s breaking?
The door to Jungkook’s apartment burst open, the sharp creak echoing through the still, dimly lit room.
Mingyu marched in, his breath uneven from the climb, urgency written across his face. Yoongi was still on the phone, his voice low but tense.
“Jungkook!” Mingyu called out, his voice slicing through the heavy air.
Jungkook looked up slowly, still curled up on the living room floor, knees pulled to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around them as if holding himself together.
Mingyu didn’t wait. “Turn the TV on. Now.”
Jungkook blinked, confused. “What… what happened?”
“Just—please. Turn the TV on.”
His hands trembled as he reached for the remote. Every motion felt distant, mechanical, as though he was underwater. His thumb hovered over the power button for a beat before pressing it.
The screen blinked to life—and there he was.
Taehyung.
Alive. Standing behind a podium in a press conference. A dozen microphones in front of him. Flashbulbs went off, voices shouted over one another—but all Jungkook could see was him.
A jolt of air rushed from his lungs. He slumped back against the couch, his body caving in on itself. His heart thundered in his ears. “He’s… he’s okay…”
But relief was fleeting.
Because Taehyung’s face… was void. He has scratches on his face. Bandaged hand and forehead.
His eyes were hollow, dimmed. His posture stiff, like a marionette propped on invisible strings.
Then came his voice—cold, detached.
“I, Kim Taehyung, want to confess the plotting I did against Jeon family. I married Jeon Jungkook to manipulate him.”
Jungkook sat up slowly, his breath catching.
“I approached him under the guise of a secretary. It was planned. I worked with my father for this. The accident was plotted by me. ”
“No…” Jungkook whispered.
“The report about illegal activity in JT Corp… was fabricated. I forged the documents. The accounts being circulated—also fake.”
His world twisted sideways.
Taehyung’s eyes met the camera, but there was no flicker of life in them. No familiar warmth.
"I want to apologize to the Jeon family. I tried to destroy chairman Jeon's reputation." He paused and for a second jungkook saw raw emotions in Taehyung's eyes.
" I am sorry. Jungkook. " A mere whisper came from Taehyung's. And then hus head hung low.
Jungkook’s lips parted, his throat bone-dry. “Why are you… saying this…”
Reporters shouted questions—accusations.
“Is your father responsible for Jeon Jungkook’s parents’ deaths?”
“Were you involved in the murder?”
“Did you help cover it up?”
Before Taehyung could answer, police officers stepped forward and gently but firmly led him away. His gaze didn’t falter, didn’t waver, even as the flash of cameras engulfed him.
The screen went dark.
A remote clattered loudly against the floor—Jungkook’s hand had gone limp. His knuckles had turned white from gripping it.
“This can’t be real,” he muttered. “That’s not… that’s not him…”
He bolted upright. Reached for his phone and his car keys, movements wild with panic.
“Jungkook—wait!” Mingyu blocked the door. “Where are you going?”
“To see him. I have to—he’s not okay. Did you see him?”
“You can’t drive like this,” Mingyu said, his voice softening. “You’re not in any condition. Let me take you.”
Jungkook hesitated, his chest heaving with broken gasps.
Mingyu placed a steady hand on his shoulder. “ let’s go.”
Without another word, they turned toward the door.
And in the quiet of the apartment, the echo of Taehyung’s voice still hung in the air like smoke—poisonous, lingering.
And Jungkook, with every step he took, was walking straight into a truth far darker than he could’ve ever imagined.
Chapter 23: I am not yours
Chapter Text
Jungkook called Taehyung.
A pearl kissed by moonlight.
Ironic, isn’t it? A boy barely eighteen, wanting to keep a pearl locked in its oyster forever—so no one could touch its purity. So the world wouldn’t destroy it.
The heavy iron gate creaked open, its groan slicing through the silence like a warning bell. Jungkook rushed inside, breath ragged, heart thundering against his ribs. His vision tunneled, locked onto the front desk.
“Kim Taehyung. Where is he?” His voice cracked—urgent, desperate, raw.
The officer behind the counter straightened, startled. “He’s in custody, Mr. Jeon.”
“Where?” Jungkook’s tone sharpened—less a question, more a roar.
The officer faltered. “Holding cell.”
Beside him, Mingyu stepped forward, voice calm but firm. “I’ll handle the rest. You go.”
Jungkook nodded stiffly and turned, feet pounding down the narrow corridor. Every echo off the concrete walls made it harder to breathe. His hands trembled. Dread gnawed at his chest. What if Taehyung looked at him with nothing at all? What if he didn’t look at him at all?
Then—
He saw him.
Curled in the corner of the dim cell, arms wrapped tight around his knees, head bowed. Still. Too still.
Jungkook froze.
He gripped the bars, knuckles white. “Tae…” The word slipped out like a breath he’d been holding for hours.
Taehyung flinched—barely. Slowly, painfully, he lifted his head.
Their eyes met.
And time cracked in half.
Jungkook’s heart dropped. The warmth that once radiated from Taehyung’s eyes was gone. Not anger. Not hatred. Just absence. And yet, somewhere deep inside, the pain still shimmered—raw, bottomless.
He staggered back, choking on a sob.
Then he turned toward the officer.
“Open this door.”
The man didn’t move.
“I said, open it!” Jungkook slammed his foot against the bars. “Open this damn door!”
“Jungkook!” Mingyu grabbed him. “Calm down!”
“He was in an accident!” Jungkook pointed at Taehyung, voice shaking. “And this is how you treat him?! He’s a victim!”
The officer finally moved, unlocking the cell with a reluctant clank.
Jungkook rushed in, dropped to his knees beside Taehyung, and gently reached for his arm.
Taehyung stood, slowly. Mechanically. He didn’t resist, didn’t speak, didn’t even look at Jungkook.
Just stared at the ground.
Jungkook wrapped a protective arm around him, gaze burning into every officer in the room. He would remember every face. Every one of them.
But as they turned to leave—
“He can’t go, Mr. Jeon,” the officer interrupted. “He has charges against him. You know that.”
Jungkook turned sharply. “The charges are on my company. And on my husband. We’ll handle it internally.”
The officer gave a dry chuckle. “He’s involved in document forgery. Complaints came from your shareholders.”
Jungkook stilled.
He knew.
His grandfather.
His blood turned cold.
Mingyu stepped in quickly. Handing the bail documents. The officer hesitated, then nodded.
Jungkook grasped Taehyung’s hand and led him out of the building. The moment the door closed, he lingered there, unsure how to turn around. Afraid of the weight of what he’d see.
When he did turn, Taehyung stood in, arms by his side, eyes wandering around like they were more familiar than Jungkook.
Still not looking at him.
Still so, so quiet.
Jungkook took a shaky breath. “Taehyung?”
Nothing.
He stepped forward. “Please... look at me.”
Still no reaction—except for the tremble in Taehyung’s shoulders. And then, slowly, silently, tears fell.
Not sobs. Just tears.
Like his soul was bleeding through the cracks.
Jungkook’s throat closed. “Tae, I’m calling you, pearl... just look at me. Please.”
But when he took another step, Taehyung stepped back.
It pierced like a knife.
“You should go, Mr. Jeon,” Taehyung said flatly. “There’s nothing left to talk about.”
“No, I know you didn’t do anything. You were forced—"
“It doesn’t matter.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You knew.” Taehyung’s voice shook now. “You knew what my father did.”
Jungkook blinked. “What?”
“You knew from the start, didn’t you?” Taehyung’s lips quivered. “That he... killed your parents.”
“Taehyung, listen to me—"
“You used me.” His voice broke. “You signed that contract to keep me close. To use me. Was this all revenge?”
Jungkook stepped forward, eyes wide. “No! What are you saying?”
“Your grandfather told me everything.” Taehyung whispered, voice falling. “He took me from the accident. He told me what to say. I begged him not to hurt my family.”
His next words were barely audible. “I’ll take the blame. Just leave them out of it.”
Jungkook’s world spun.
Everything blurred.
“Taehyung... no. You’re misunderstanding.”
Taehyung then look at him.
Mingyu stepped out of the police station, the tension still thick in the air.
“Should we leave?” he asked, glancing at Taehyung.
Taehyung took a shaky breath, his voice quiet.
“I’ll go to my house then… Thank you for the ba—”
Before he could finish, Jungkook gently but firmly grabbed his arm.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
He led him to the car without another word, opening the passenger door.
“Sit there,” he said, voice calm but brooking no argument.
Taehyung resisted, “I'm not_”
“I said sit in the car, Taehyung.”
Jungkook’s voice didn’t rise, but the finality in his tone left no room for protest.
“Don’t make me repeat it.”
Taehyung hesitated for a moment, then silently lowered himself into the seat. Jungkook closed the door and rounded the car, settling beside him.
Mingyu started the engine.
Silence settled over them, so loud it drowned out even the hum of the road.
No one spoke.
When they finally reached Jungkook’s apartment, the car came to a slow stop. Jungkook stepped out first, then opened Taehyung’s door. He took his hand—not roughly, but with a quiet insistence—and helped him out.
“Go inside. I’ll be back in a moment,” Jungkook said softly.
Taehyung didn’t respond. He simply turned and walked toward the building.
Jungkook watched him disappear inside, then turned to Mingyu.
“What now?” Mingyu asked. “This is getting worse, Jungkook. The shareholders—they’re going to come at you hard.”
“I know,” Jungkook muttered, jaw clenched. “It’s my grandfather. He’s behind this. He used Taehyung’s family—he found his weakness.”
“At least his family’s safe,” Mingyu said. “Yoongi-hyung handled the relocation personally.”
“They’re safe,” Jungkook agreed with a nod. “But Taehyung doesn’t know that. They must’ve used it against him. Threatened him. That’s the only way he would ever agree to any of this. Grandfather went that far just to keep me obedient… I didn’t see it coming.”
“There might be an emergency shareholders’ meeting,” Mingyu warned. “And if you stand by Taehyung... they could try to vote you out of the CEO position.”
Jungkook exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.
“I’ll handle it.”
“You sure?”
“I have to be.”
Mingyu gave a slow nod. “Alright. Then rest for now. You’ll need it.”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Jungkook alone with the storm that waited inside.
Jungkook entered the apartment quietly.
In the dim light of the living room, he saw Taehyung sitting on the couch, tense and waiting.
As soon as he spotted Jungkook, Taehyung stood up.
Without a word, Jungkook walked toward the kitchen. He opened the fridge, took out a bottle of water, and began drinking.
Taehyung followed him, nervous but eager to speak.
“Mr. Jeon… my family?”
His voice trembled.
Jungkook didn’t respond. He calmly returned the bottle to the fridge, then took out some fruits and began cutting them at the counter.
“Mr. Jeon, at least answer me,” Taehyung pressed, stepping closer. “What’s happening? I did what you all told me to do…”
Suddenly, Jungkook slammed the knife onto the counter. The sound echoed sharply, making Taehyung flinch.
Jungkook turned around to face him.
Taehyung instinctively stepped back until his back hit the kitchen wall.
“What about me?” Jungkook asked, his voice low.
“H-Huh?”
“You’re always thinking about everyone else—your family, your responsibilities. What about me, Taehyung?”
“We… we aren’t on that terms. I think_,” Taehyung stammered.
Jungkook gave a humorless chuckle.
“Oh really? Then why did you say you fell for me, huh?”
Taehyung looked away, unable to meet his eyes.
“I… I—people fall for anyone. It’s not in our control.”
“Then why don’t you care about me?” Jungkook stepped closer.
Taehyung speak up. “Why should I care when you used me? You knew everything from the start. You gave me the job knowing who I was—”
His voice cracked slightly.
Jungkook’s jaw tensed. He slammed his hands on the wall beside Taehyung’s head, caging him in.
“Do you really think you fell for me?” he whispered, voice more like a plea, “Because the way you are talking I don’t think you did.”
Taehyung’s breath hitched. “What…?”
Jungkook let out a small, bitter laugh, then turned away, returning to the counter. He resumed cutting the fruit in silence, his movements controlled.
Then, he picked up his phone and dialed a number.
A few rings later, a soft female voice answered.
“Oh, hello? Jungkook? How are you?”
Taehyung froze.
It was his sister’s voice.
“I’m fine,” Jungkook replied with a small smile.
“Where’s Taehyung? He didn’t call me for the last two days…”
“He’s alright. Actually, I called so you could talk to him. His phone broke, that’s why.”
“Oh… but didn’t you tell me not to tell him anything?”
“It’s okay now.”
Jungkook looked toward Taehyung and then placed the phone on the counter near the plate of cut fruit.
“Eat these before going to bed.”
With that, he walked away, disappearing into his room.
Taehyung stared after him, his heart aching.
His legs felt weak, and his chest tightened.
He had been so cruel to Jungkook… but everything he’d done was based on what he was told. Now everything felt wrong. Everything hurt.
“Taehyung?” came his sister’s voice from the phone again.
Quickly, Taehyung wiped his tears and grabbed the phone.
“Hey, noona…”
“Taehyung! Why do you have a bandage on your head?!”
Taehyung cursed under his breath. “Ah… I fell down the stairs.”
“Mom will be so worried if she finds out you’re not taking care of yourself.”
“You guys are okay, right? Nothing happened?”
“We’re alright,” she assured him softly. “My surgery is in two days.”
Taehyung looked down at his lap, then back at the phone.
“Noona… how do you know Jungkook? I never introduced him to you…”
“Oh, Taehyung—he’s the one who arranged everything,” she said. “That friend who picked us up at the airport gave us his number. He said Jungkook was your friend and you were staying with him.”
“He… said that?”
“Yes. He stayed in contact with us the whole time. And he even talks to Mom almost every day. She really likes him.”
Taehyung’s eyes widened. “He calls you daily?”
“He’s so nice, Taehyung. Mom always tells him, ‘Take care of our Taehyungie,’ and he always replies, ‘Taehyung is really important to me. Don’t worry.’”
Taehyung’s throat tightened.
His eyes stung again.
“I… I have to go now, noona. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay. Take care, okay?”
The call ended.
And Taehyung was left alone in the kitchen, staring at the plate of cut fruit—his heart heavier than ever.
Taehyung stayed there, standing in the quiet kitchen, his eyes still damp. His hands trembled as he clutched the phone. After a few moments, he took a deep breath, walked to Jungkook’s room, and gently knocked.
There was a pause.
Then the door opened slowly, revealing Jungkook in his night attire. His expression was unreadable.
Taehyung lifted the phone toward him without a word.
Jungkook took it silently. He didn’t meet Taehyung’s eyes—just turned, already beginning to close the door.
“I– I’m sorry,” Taehyung said quietly, his voice hoarse.
Jungkook stopped, only slightly. “Why?” he asked without looking back.
“For how I talked to you. For doubting you. When you don't co_...” Taehyung’s voice cracked.
“It’s okay,” Jungkook cut in, his tone flat. “And don’t worry. I’ll handle everything at the company. Just… don’t come to the office for now.”
He turned again.
“J-Jungkook?”
“Hm?”
Taehyung’s gaze faltered. “My father... he—”
Jungkook froze. His jaw clenched, fingers curling into a fist. His parents’ faces flashed in his mind, raw and vivid.
Taehyung looked into his eyes. “You knew about him... Didn’t you? It must be hard... seeing me in your company then in your house. Seeing the son of a murderer.”
Jungkook stepped forward abruptly and gripped Taehyung by the collar, slamming him gently against the closed door. Taehyung gasped in surprise, his back hitting the wood with a dull thud.
“Why are you so oblivious to everything?” Jungkook’s voice trembled. “Why can’t you see what’s right in front of you?”
Taehyung stood still, confused. “I… I don’t understand.”
“How much more do I have to do, Taehyung?” Jungkook’s voice cracked. “How much more pain do I have to go through... just to keep your eyes on me?”
Taehyung’s lips parted, his breath shallow. “Mr. Jeon… I—”
“Seven years,” Jungkook said bitterly. “Seven fucking years, Taehyung. And still, I’m not enough for you to see me?”
Taehyung tried to push him away, but Jungkook’s grip was firm.
“Why did you say you fell for me? Why say it if you didn’t mean it?”
Taehyung’s eyes shimmered with emotion. “It’s not like that... I— I —”
“Then why couldn’t you trust me?” Jungkook’s voice was low, devastated. “Why was it so easy for you to believe them and not me?”
Taehyung swallowed hard, tears forming. “Because… because he was your family. He told me you used me. I didn’t know what to believe. I’ve only known you for a month and a half... and everything he said—it all pointed to you. He showed me photos. You meeting my father. Hitting him. Then he showed me pictures of my family, saying you arranged it all as revenge for your parents. And I— I couldn’t shake it from my heart. I kept thinking... you can’t be that kind of man. Your eyes never lied to me. You never lied to me.”
Jungkook’s breath was uneven.
“But the press conference…” Taehyung continued softly. “I had no choice. They threatened me. And when I found out what my father did to your family—when I realized how much you’ve suffered—I felt guilty. I was angry. Not at you... at myself. For not knowing. For yelling at you when maybe I should’ve just listened.”
Jungkook’s grip loosened.
“It’s not your fault,” he murmured. “Stop blaming yourself.”
Taehyung took a shaky breath and looked away. “After the accident, when I woke up... I didn’t know where I was. You weren’t there. I don't know where are you. Whether you are fine or not. No one told me anything. Then your grandfather came. Told me to sign papers. Do the press conference. He told me what my father did to you. Told me you’d been in therapy because of of all this. That you—” his voice cracked, “—than you did not come to me to save me from your family, came late to the police station because you didn’t care. And I didn’t want to believe it. But you were late. And I got scared.”
“Taehyung,” Jungkook said, voice gentler now.
Taehyung looked up at him with tearful eyes. “I didn’t lie, Mr. Jeon. My feelings... they’re real.”
Silence settled between them.
Jungkook reached out and gently cupped Taehyung’s face, brushing away the tears with his thumb.
“I was scared too,You were__” Jungkook whispered. “I didn’t mean to talk to you like that either. I’m sorry.”
Taehyung closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, his hand slowly reaching up to hold Jungkook’s.
They stayed like that, suspended in the moment.
Jungkook guided him toward the bed and sat him down.
He himself sat on the floor beside it.
“It’s alright now,” he said softly. “I’ll handle the company mess. You’ve got bail for now. Just rest.”
Taehyung nodded slowly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you—”
“You can repay me by staying,” Jungkook said simply.
Taehyung looked at him, the silence loud with unspoken things.
“Your wounds… are they okay?”
“They treated me well,” Taehyung replied quietly.
“Good. Then you need to rest. Sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
Taehyung started to stand. “I should go—”
Jungkook gently grabbed his wrist.
“Stay. Sleep here.”
Taehyung hesitated. “But…”
“Just stay.”
He nodded. Wordlessly, he lay down on the bed.
As Jungkook stood to leave, Taehyung blinked sleepily. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be back soon. Just rest.”
With that, Jungkook stepped out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. He walked downstairs and sank into the couch, his mind racing. The past—the betrayal, the lies, the accident—all circled in his head.
His heart ached.
Eventually, he stood and went into the kitchen. The untouched plate of fruit still sat on the counter. He picked it up, then walked back to the room and opened the door quietly.
Taehyung was asleep.
Jungkook knelt beside the bed, gently brushing a few strands of hair away from Taehyung’s face. His hand lingered. Then, softly, he leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead.
“I never meant for us to meet like this, Taehyung,” he whispered.
He stood, picked up his laptop, and left the room.
Taehyung’s eyes slowly opened.
He touched the spot where Jungkook kissed him, lips trembling. Tears welled again, unspoken emotions crashing over him.
He turned onto his side, curling slightly as quiet sobs escaped him in the dark.
Chapter 24: Heather
Notes:
Here Heather is someone who is so much perfect and idealized.
So both characters wish to be like Heather so other would accept them.
Chapter Text
Why would you ever kiss me?
I'm not even half as pretty
The light slipped in.
A gentle golden thread from between the curtains traced down Taehyung's face, stirring him from sleep.
He blinked against it, pushing the blanket down with a slow exhale, his hand sliding across the sheets-cold.
Empty.
He was alone.
Jungkook hadn't returned.
Not last night.
Not after the gentle kiss.
Maybe he regretted letting him stay.
Maybe it had all been a moment of mercy.
A flicker of kindness-not love.
And what if that kindness ends?
What would become of him then?
Taehyung sat up, his body curling slightly as if to protect what little strength remained.
His thoughts, loud.
Too loud.
He had always been the boy who hid in silence.
Who kept the world at arm's length.
But life-cruel, merciless-had stripped him bare, laid him out in the open for judgment.
He once dreamt of becoming something.
An artist.
But his father... his father stole that dream.
Now, he dares to dream again.
He dares to desire someone.
And once again, it's his father who wronged him.
How could he stay with Jungkook?
With what face?
Wouldn't Jungkook feel disgust seeing the son of the man who ruined him?
His grandfather's voice still echoed-cutting, cruel.
"Because of your father, he suffered."
"Therapy for a year in London."
"Depression. Insomnia."
"You're back only to give him more pain."
"He wants revenge. You're the only way to get to your father."
"leave him."
Taehyung placed trembling hands over his ears.
But the words were inside now.
Carved deep into his skull.
Last night, he tried to push Jungkook away.
Spoke cruel words.
Blamed him.
How selfish.
How shamefully selfish.
And yet...
That man still cared.
Still came back.
Still whispered comfort with his eyes, with his hands, with the softness only Taehyung ever saw.
It was too much.
Too much for a soul already split.
Jungkook don't deserve this.
He don't deserve the spoiled pieces of his soul.
He deserves better.
Just then, the door creaked open.
Soft. Subtle.
But it shattered the silence like thunder.
Jungkook entered.
Still in his nightclothes, eyes shadowed with fatigue.
He didn't speak.
He moved to the wardrobe, selected a suit, and disappeared into the washroom.
Water ran.
Fabric rustled.
Time moved.
But Taehyung... stayed.
When Jungkook returned, dressed sharply, hair slicked, he paused.
His gaze drifted to Taehyung-still curled, still quiet, still broken.
"I'm leaving for the office," he said softly, voice even. "Your breakfast is in the kitchen."
Taehyung didn't look up.
Didn't nod.
Just stared down at his hands.
Then, a whisper.
A whisper that cracked with weight.
"...Can we end the contract, please?"
Jungkook froze.
"What?"
"The marriage contract," Taehyung repeated.
Slow. Shaky.
"I... I can't do this anymore."
His voice quivered like a leaf in the wind.
"I can't keep making your life harder. I'm too... too messed up."
Jungkook's hands clenched at his sides.
His voice was low. Tense.
"What are you saying? Who told you I'm suffering because of you?"
"Then look at yourself!" Taehyung suddenly stood, eyes glinting with unshed tears.
"This-everything-is because of me. Your company... your name...
My father did this to you, and I stood there-still breathing. Still here. How can I not be the reason?"
"I'm not ending the marriage," Jungkook said.
Firm. Final.
His voice was steel wrapped in sorrow.
"We'll talk when I get back."
And with that, he walked out.
Jungkook stepped into the building, sharp and composed, though inside, he was splintering.
His manager approached in a hurry, breath short.
"Mr. Jeon, all the shareholders are already in the conference room."
Jungkook gave a small nod. "When does it start?"
"In thirty minutes. Also... your friends are in your office."
Another nod. No words. He moved.
Every step toward his office felt heavy, the weight of secrets, guilt, and longing anchoring his limbs. He opened the door and found them already there-Mingyu and Yoongi. Familiar, steady presences in a world unraveling too fast.
They looked up.
He straightened his posture, wore calm like a tailored suit, but inside-only one name, one face is churnig him.
He took his seat, flipping open his laptop like it was routine, like he wasn't breaking in slow silence.
"Jungkook..." Mingyu began carefully. "What are you going to do?"
Jungkook's fingers paused briefly on the keyboard.
"Everything is in place," he replied. "I have all the proof I need against him."
"Then why," Yoongi said quietly, "does your face look like you're about to fall apart?"
Jungkook glanced away. "It's nothing."
Mingyu's voice was softer. "Don't go back to the person you used to be. Don't shut us out. We didn't even know you were gathering evidence against your grandfather until it was done. This whole thing is-messed up."
"I'll tell you both," Jungkook murmured, "after I clean up this mess. My father built this company brick by brick. I won't let that go to waste. Not because of someone else's sins."
Mingyu leaned forward. "And Taehyung?"
Silence.
Jungkook hesitated, the name catching in his throat like thorns.
"This is for him too," he said eventually. "I'm doing this to protect him."
Mingyu's voice softened. "Is he okay? It's been too much for him. The accident, the truth... all of it."
"He hated me," Jungkook said, his voice cracking just slightly. "For one moment, he hated me. Then the next... he apologized. And by the end of the night, he blamed himself for everything."
He lowered his gaze.
"It's so... fucked up. I can't even explain it. He looked at me with guilt, not anger. I can take hate, but not that guilt. Because guilt means he'll leave. And I..."
He didn't finish.
Couldn't.
Yoongi stood and moved beside him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.
"he will not," he said simply.
Jungkook closed his eyes.
"He'll leave me, hyung. And I... I don't know how to stop it. I've always been like this-a coward. Why is it so hard to say it? Just say that I-- But last night, even when he blamed me, his eyes were already full of regret. And I couldn't even hold him. I just let him walk away."
Yoongi's grip tightened gently.
"He won't leave you. He's not that kind of person. You know that. And if he tries to, I'll stop him myself."
A soft smile, resolute. "Hyung's got you."
A knock on the door reminded them of time.
Yoongi looked at his watch. "Now come on. You've got a legacy to fight for."
Mingyu rose too, nodding.
"Your legacy-and your love. We're going to protect both."
Jungkook stood, breath slow but steady now.
One war in the boardroom.
Another in his heart.
And he wasn't alone in either.
They walked out together, heading toward the conference room.
Inside the boardroom, tension clung to the air like fog.
Shareholders murmured among themselves-loud, agitated voices rising and falling.
"This young CEO is too emotional-our shares have dropped!"
"Nepotism ruined us. First his father, now him."
"If this continues, we'll pull out."
Their words were like static-constant and biting.
Then, the room fell into a hushed silence.
Jungkook entered.
He walked with purpose, steps echoing off marble floors. His jaw clenched tightly as his eyes met those of two men sitting at the end of the table-his grandfather and his uncle, Soo Hyun.
The men who had once claimed to protect him. The men who had betrayed him.
Jungkook walked toward the podium.
Yoongi and Mingyu took their seats, quiet but ready, their presence solid like anchors behind him.
He cleared his throat and offered a formal greeting.
"Good morning. Let's begin."
But the storm started early.
One of the shareholders stood. "Mr. Jeon, how do you plan to justify the plummeting stocks this quarter? Ever since you took charge, the company's value has-"
Another cut in. "The board is deeply concerned. Your personal matters have overshadowed business. We deserve stability, not scandal."
A third added sharply, "You're too young, too emotional. This company isn't your playground."
Jungkook remained still. Calm. Waiting.
And then, his grandfather spoke, voice steady but poisonous.
"You should step down, Jungkook," he said, eyes narrowed.
"For the good of this company. You've let personal connections cloud your judgment. And now it's affecting everything."
His uncle leaned forward with a smirk.
"Especially your... marriage."
A few heads turned.
His grandfather continued, voice colder.
"According to your father's will, your spouse is eligible for co-CEO position. After your marriage, Taehyung was granted legal access to several executive accounts. Two major financial transfers-unauthorized-were made using his signature. That's embezzlement."
Murmurs broke out. Whispers filled the room like smoke.
Yoongi and Mingyu turned toward Jungkook in disbelief.
And still, he didn't flinch.
Instead, he opened the folder in front of him and connected his laptop to the screen.
"Let me clarify," he began, voice strong and unwavering.
"You all deserve the truth-not the version sculpted by fear and manipulation."
He clicked.
Footage played.
A dimly lit parking garage.
Taehyung-blindfolded, tied, being dragged by masked men.
A timestamp, a location. Verified.
Then another screen lit up.
Emails. Internal messages. Bank access records.
The signature on the transfer? Forged.
The IP address? Traced to Soo Hyun's assistant.
Audio recordings. Documents.
The silence was now deafening.
Yoongi's eyes widened in shock.
Mingyu looked down, hands clenched.
Jungkook turned to the board.
"Taehyung was kidnapped the same night the transfers occurred. He was coerced. Used as a pawn to attack me-us-from within."
He turned toward his grandfather.
"I admired you once. But you orchestrated this, didn't you? My own family. You used the person I love as a weapon."
His grandfather stood, face flushed with rage.
"You're ruining everything your father built!"
"No," Jungkook said coldly, "you did."
Soo Hyun stood to retaliate, but security entered-already alerted.
The evidence was enough to suspend and investigate both him and the Chairman.
The shareholders, one by one, shifted in their seats-silent now, stunned.
Finally, the lead shareholder cleared his throat.
"We've reviewed enough."
He looked directly at Jungkook.
"You have our support, Mr. Jeon. The board stands with you. Clean up this mess."
Jungkook bowed slightly.
"Thank you. I will."
Bzzz.
Jungkook pressed the intercom.
"Send them in."
The doors opened, and within seconds, the media poured into the boardroom-cameras, flashes, murmurs rising again.
His manager walked behind them, holding files.
Jungkook stepped back from the podium and straightened his coat.
"I believe the world deserves the truth too," he said calmly.
"Let's make this a proper press conference."
Panic visibly flared across Soo Hyun's and Chairman Jeon's faces.
Jungkook returned to the mic, gaze piercing.
"My first step," he said firmly, "is removing Chairman Jeon from this company."
Gasps echoed around the room like thunder.
"What?!"
His grandfather shot up from his seat, rage distorting his face.
"You dare-!"
Jungkook's voice cut like steel.
"He's involved in the murder of my parents."
The entire room fell silent.
Yoongi and Mingyu both snapped their heads toward him, eyes wide.
Jungkook didn't blink.
"He killed my parents because my father discovered Soo Hyun's involvement in forging company documents-illegal contracts hidden from the board-and threatened to expose it. Chairman Jeon was the mastermind. All of it was to protect this company... no, to control it."
A reporter raised his voice, stunned, "Do you have any proof?"
"I submitted all the evidence to the police this morning."
Jungkook reached into his coat, retrieved a USB drive, and inserted it into the laptop.
A recording played.
Woo jin voice came up.
"So you'll give me the money I asked for if I tell you the truth?"
"Yes."
"I already told you. Your grandfather... he's the one. He works with Kang-the same guy who hired me before. Now that bastard's threatening me too. I need to disappear. But yeah, it was your grandfather. He gave the order."
"What order?"
"To kill your parents. Kang said I'd be drunk, so I'd get a lighter sentence. Your grandfather paid for it all. And there's more-he's been funneling company funds into illegal businesses through unauthorized accounts. I saved all the documents... just in case."
The audio cut off.
The silence was explosive.
Reporters surged toward Chairman Jeon.
"Is this true?! Did you order their deaths?!"
"Chairman Jeon, do you deny these claims?!"
But Jungkook didn't wait for answers.
He stepped down from the podium, not sparing a glance.
Yoongi and Mingyu quickly followed as he left the chaos behind.
.
.
.
Inside Jungkook's office, he closed the door and leaned against it, head hanging low.
His breath trembled.
Tears pooled in his eyes before he whispered, "I did it... They got justice."
Yoongi and Mingyu didn't hesitate. They moved forward and embraced him tightly.
"You did it," Yoongi said, gripping his shoulder.
They all collapsed onto the couch, a bittersweet stillness settling around them.
"When did you find all this out?" Mingyu asked softly.
"Before the accident... when I returned. I met Woo Jin. I had someone working quietly for me, gathering data. The real break came from Woo Jin-he gave me everything."
Jungkook looked at Yoongi.
"For Taehyung's kidnapping, Yoongi hyung helped me crack the CCTV."
Mingyu ran a hand through his hair. "I can't believe it... They're your family."
"They're not," Jungkook said, voice cold. "They never were."
Yoongi frowned. "Your grandfather... how could he do that to his own son?"
Jungkook's lips curled bitterly.
"Because my father wasn't his son. He was his brother's. After his brother died, Chairman Jeon adopted him to control the Jeon name. He never loved him."
The silence turned heavy again.
"What now?" Mingyu finally asked.
"He'll go through court. An investigation is already underway. He might already be arrested. But I don't want to see him. I don't want to ask him why. I wasted my life trying to live for him. He shaped me into a pawn. He starved me of affection, made me numb."
He swallowed thickly.
"I just... I want to visit my parents. I want to finally face them. Maybe... I should take Taehyung with me."
"That's the best decision you've made all day," Mingyu said with a small smile.
"Do you think he'll go with me?"
Yoongi leaned forward. "He will. But for that, I need your journal."
"Huh?"
"You trust me, right? Let me fix this."
Jungkook blinked. "It's at my apartment."
"Then go with Mingyu. I'll meet you both there."
"Hyung... what if he doesn't believe me?"
Yoongi grinned. "I'm the living proof of your love, man. Since high school, remember?"
Jungkook let out a soft, breathy chuckle. "That's not wrong."
"You can trust me. He'll be with you," Yoongi said confidently as he stood. "I'll meet you both after."
Yoongi exited the building, sliding into his car. As he started the engine, his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the caller ID and smiled, answering quickly.
"Hey."
"Hi," came Jimin's soft voice. "Where are you?"
"On the way to your friend's place."
"You mean... Taehyung?" Jimin asked, already knowing.
"Mhm."
"I just saw him. After the trip, too much happened. You all didn't tell me anything."
"Where are you now?"
"I just left his apartment. Made him lunch and slipped out."
"Drive safe. I'll talk to you later."
"Okay. Love you."
Yoongi chuckled, caught off guard. "Now that surprised me."
"Shut up," Jimin laughed. "Bye."
Yoongi hung up, still smiling, and turned the wheel toward Taehyung's apartment-ready to fix everything.
Taehyung was lying on the couch when the doorbell rang. With a sigh, he stood up and walked over to open it.
"Oh... Mr. Min," Taehyung blinked in surprise. "Jungkook isn't here."
"I know," Yoongi replied calmly. "I came to meet you."
"Me?"
"Can we talk?"
Taehyung hesitated for a moment before stepping aside. "Yes, of course. Come in."
They both settled on the couch. The silence between them hung heavy.
"First of all," Yoongi said, breaking the tension, "drop the formalities. I'm your hyung-just like I am to Jungkook."
Taehyung smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Is everything settled now?" he asked quietly.
Yoongi gave a soft chuckle. "Yes. Your husband is a mastermind."
Taehyung looked away, his jaw tightening.
"I'm not here as anyone's executive or friend," Yoongi said gently. "I'm here as Jungkook's brother."
Taehyung tensed, glancing up warily.
"I want you to stay with him," Yoongi said firmly. "You both deserve each other."
"He doesn't deserve me," Taehyung muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's too good. And I... I'm not."
"Whatever happened in the past was not your fault," Yoongi said softly, his gaze unwavering. "Neither yours nor Jungkook's. You were both victims."
Taehyung opened his mouth to protest, but Yoongi interrupted.
"You have feelings for him, don't you?"
Taehyung looked down, hands fidgeting in his lap. "It doesn't matter. My presence is a reminder of everything that hurt him. He's kind to me, but the feelings... they're one-sided."
Yoongi let out a soft laugh and stood up. Without a word, he walked toward Jungkook's room and returned with something in his hand.
Taehyung watched, confused.
"I want you to read this," Yoongi said, placing a leather-bound journal in his hands, "and then decide whatever you want."
"What is this?"
"Jungkook's heart," Yoongi said, offering a small smile. "I'll leave you alone now. Take your time. Just want you to know that he can't live without you. "
With that, he turned and walked out, leaving Taehyung alone with the journal.
Taehyung clutched it tightly, feeling his chest tighten with anxiety. He didn't know what was inside, but whatever it was-it felt heavy. Like a truth waiting to break his heart open.
Like Jungkook's soul, written in ink.
Chapter 25: Angel baby
Chapter Text
You came out the blue
on a rainy night, no lie
I'll tell you how I almost died
While you're bringing me back to life
The apartment was silent, save for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.
Taehyung sat on the couch, knees drawn close, the leather-bound journal resting on his lap like it was something sacred. His fingers trembled as they traced Jungkook's name etched faintly in the corner.
He didn't expect this.
A part of him wanted to run. Another part was already drowning in the weight of what this journal could mean.
He opened the first page.
But closed it again. His breath is shaky. He closed his eyes. He don't know but his heart is telling him that it's gonna hurt.
Then he opened his eyes and then with trembling hands he slowly open it.
September 2018
Today I saw someone.
He sat on the rooftop, hugging his knees like they were the only arms that had ever held him.
The sky was soft, like powdered sugar, and his tears disappeared into his sleeves like secrets.
I wonder if he knows that sadness echoes. That it vibrates in people nearby, even strangers.
I wasn't supposed to be there... just a junior with a sketchbook and nowhere else to go.
But the wind carried his pain to me.
And something in me cracked, just watching him stare at a world that never stared back.
I want to know him.
october 2018
I am back again. I think this journal is all gonna be about him.
I saw him dance today.
Not on stage. Alone. In the hallway near the auditorium when he thought no one watched.
His body spoke of loneliness and hope, like the wings of a bird who's been caged too long.
I pressed myself against the wall, breath caught between ribs.
He moved like he was trying to survive.
And for the first time in my life, I wanted to be a stage. I wanted to hold him, not just with arms-but with safety.
Oh his name is Taehyung.... Heheheh
He is so pretty.
November 2018
I don't know why,
but I want to see him all the time.
Is it too soon... to fall this hard?
I asked Mom today-
she said, "If your heart smiles at someone, don't stop yourself."
But how do I explain
that when I see him... my heart doesn't feel happy?
It hurts.
God-it hurts so much.
My chest tightens.
My throat knots with words I never say.
And all I want is to cry.
To shatter quietly,
while he stands there,
unknowing.
Unreachable.
My body trembles like it knows something my mind won't admit-
that this boy is the storm and the shelter.
That maybe falling for him
was never a choice.
It just happened.
December 2018
They call pearls precious because they're rare.
But no one talks about how a pearl is born through pain-
inside a shell, under pressure, unseen.
Taehyung... you are that pearl._
January 2019
He doesn't speak much. But his eyes do.
His eyes speak in languages no one bothers to learn.
Sometimes I think his eyes ask questions like "Will anyone ever choose me first?" or "If I vanished, would anyone know?"
But I am so coward. Why can't I face him? May be I am afraid he will not accept me. He is the top student of the school. He is so much perfect. He can get anyone if he wants why he will choose me.
February 2019
Suddenly, something is changed in school.
I want to put my fist through the mouth of every person who speaks his name with poison.
They look at him like he's the one who sinned.
Like he chose the blood in his veins.
What is his fault in what his father has done?
Tell me-where in his eyes is there space for cruelty?
Where in his voice is there venom?
He's... precious.
So painfully gentle it breaks something in me.
He doesn't talk back. Doesn't hate.
Even when the whole world sharpens its knives and aims for his back,
He still smiles-like he's trying not to trouble the air.
They all loved him once. They called him sunshine.
Now they walk past like he's dirt.
How do people change that fast?
What are their hearts made of?
I want to run away with him.
Somewhere quiet. Somewhere warm.
A place where voices don't raise and fingers don't point.
I'd build him a world where no one could hurt him.
Where his name is only spoken in whispers of praise.
But... would he come with me?
Would he ever choose a stranger who hides behind corners and pages?
He doesn't even know me.
April 2019
My world always stops whenever I see you.
It's like time forgets how to move... and I forget how to breathe.
Your eyes-they are my favorite part of you. They hold galaxies, storms, and all the quiet places I long to rest in. But I'm angry with you. Just a little.
Yesterday, at the party... you said you're not beautiful.
How could you say that?
You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen.
Oh, the party-did you like the song? It was my first time singing in front of everyone.
I was terrified.
And I cried. Like an idiot. Right there while singing.
I don't know why... maybe because you were standing there, and suddenly everything I've kept buried came rushing up like a storm.
My heart aches when I see you. And I'm scared.
What if I can't have you?
What if I lose you before I ever truly have you?
I don't know how I'd survive that.
I'm going now-Mom's calling.
But I just wanted to say this, even if I can't say it out loud yet.
I love you ❤.
May 2019
Taehyung... You did not come to school today. I am sad. I bought a gift for you. I really mustered up today to become your friend but may be today was not the day. My heart is not feeling good. Something is wrong. Its look like I will not be able to meet you again.
May 2019
The house is quiet now.
No late-night footsteps. No echoes of laughter down the hall.
Appa's guitar collects dust, and Eomma's perfume lingers in corners like ghosts too gentle to leave.
The accident took their bodies, but grief... grief took me.
Some days I only breathe because forgetting how would hurt worse.
I stare at the ceiling and wonder-
If souls linger like music,
can they hear me crying into my pillow?
Grandfather is saying I am weak. He does not let me cry in peace. It's too much in my heart how will I bear it alone.
He is sending me London. My head is hurting. I don't want to go. I went to school to see Taehyung but he was not there. Where will I go now?
December 2019
Its so long I last wrote something. But I don't feel like writing after coming to London. Here I got insomnia and depression. I am getting therapies now. Therapy tastes like medicine with no sugar.
I sit across from a stranger who tells me to speak. But I don't know how to unpack silence.
How do I explain that I'm angry at the world for taking them?
That I miss a boy whose name I never got to say aloud?
He had a voice that made winters warm.
Eyes that always looked like they were searching for home.
And I was too much of a coward to offer mine.
So now, I write instead.
I am missing them, Eomma Appa and Taehyung. But Taehyung he don't even know me. Is not it ironic.
May 2020
I tried to fall out of love with him.
Tried to convince myself he was just a memory stitched together by loneliness.
But then I'd see someone laugh like him or fold their sleeves the same way, and I'd fall all over again.
He exists like gravity.
Even when he's not near, he pulls.
I wonder if he ever got my notes... the lunchbox ones with doodled hearts he never saw.
He probably thought it was from a teacher. Or a friend.
Just wanted him to feel a little less alone
that time.
Will he remember he once dance with me. May be as a stranger?
September 2020
I saw him this day two years ago. Today I am missing him so much. Will he be alright?
I am not writing anymore. The more I open journal, the more it is difficult for me to forget him. He is not coming ever to my life. I have to forget. I should.
March 2025
Oh my God I saw him today.
After six years of writing his name in the margins of my life.
He looked the same. And different.
Older eyes. Tired shoulders.
But that smile-
that broken, beautiful smile that always pretended to be okay-
it still felt like home.
He didn't recognize me.
Of course, he didn't.
To him, I'm just the man, his boss.
Not the boy who watched him cry behind the art room.
Not the shadow who danced with him behind a mask.
Not the ghost who left notes like breadcrumbs in hopes he'd find his way to warmth.
But I remember.
God, I never forgot. I thought I will. But today my heart bloomed again.
He is still the heartbeat I measure days by.
Still the pearl I never dared to touch.
Still the boy who made silence sacred.
And I would wait again.
Even if it meant another lifetime.
March 2025
He was different today.
His eyes... they weren't just looking at me-
they were screaming.
Screaming something silent,
something only my heart could hear.
Is he... feeling something for me?
Or is it just me,
wishing again?
Why did he look away when Mingyu joked about Yena and me?
Why did it feel like that smile of his... cracked a little?
Then his hand-
it got hurt.
And he cried.
God, he cried.
And I just stood there,
words clinging to my throat like broken glass.
I wanted to bandage him-
not just his hand,
but the storm inside his chest.
But he said I'm giving him false hope.
False hope?
No...
If only he knew-
the hope has always been mine.
I just don't know how to hand it to him
without shaking.
April 2025
It was raining like the sky was grieving too.
I opened the door and there he stood-
soaked, shivering, eyes red, lips bitten raw.
And he said, he want my help and he was so broken.
Like this wasn't already his home.
I wanted to scream.
But I just nodded.
Gave him towels. Stayed quiet.
Because if I spoke, it would all spill-
How every night I replay the sound of his laugh.
How I memorize the way he blinks when he's trying not to cry.
How I broke when I saw him on that doorstep, looking for a haven, and realizing he still thinks I'm only a stranger.
I curled up on my bed that night, heart roaring like thunder.
I buried my face into my arm, and screamed into the silence.
"I love you."
Over and over.
But only the walls heard.
April 2025
Well we are married now.He looked so peaceful yesterday.
Sitting in the soft light of the living room, curling his knees like he used to in school -
guarding his heart without even realizing.
I kept looking at his hands... the same hands I once saw covered in bruises after his father's rage.
I know.
I know everything.
And I wish I didn't.
Because if he ever finds out that I knew what his father did and still kept silent... he'll hate me.
He should.
But I'll take that hate if it means he finally sets himself free.
He should never carry the shame of things he never caused.
I just-
I wish he'd be selfish. Just once.
Just once, choose me.
Stay.
Even if everything is burning around us...
let him pick the flame if I'm the warmth.
I want him to choose me.
May 2025
I can't breathe.
It's like the air turned into knives-
every second without him is a wound.
I searched every street, every shadow.
His name echoes through alleys and stairwells.
The city feels colder without his footsteps.
The walls whisper fear.
God-where did they take my pearl?
He trusted me.
And I let go for one second. Just one.
And now the world feels like it's ending in silence.
If he's crying-if he's scared-
I want to rip the sky apart just to bring him home.
I never said it.
I never told him what he means to me.
He told me he has feelings for me.
When he is reaching for me how I lost him.
That every heartbeat has spelled his name since the first time he looked at me with those soft, tired eyes.
Please... let me find him.
I'll trade everything.
Just bring him back.
************
Taehyung closed the journal, hands trembling, heart clenched so tightly it felt like it might shatter. He pressed his hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the sounds of his sobs-but nothing could stop them now. His cries echoed through the empty apartment like ghosts of unspoken words.
He clutched at his shirt, fingers twisting the fabric, holding it like a lifeline-something, anything, to keep him grounded. He tried to speak, to say something, but no words would come. They died in his throat, heavy with pain.
His heart hurt-not for himself, but for the boy who had bled his soul onto every single page. Every word, every hidden feeling, every scarred sentence was Jungkook. And it crushed him.
His eyes searched for his phone in the blur of tears. It was almost midnight.
Jungkook wasn't back. Why wasn't he back?
He needed to see him. Now.
With shaky fingers, he dialed Jungkook's number. It rang.
No answer.
He tried again. Still nothing. Panic clawed at his chest.
Then he dialed Yoongi.
Pacing the living room like a storm barely held together, he waited.
Finally, Yoongi answered.
"Hello?"
"Uhm... H-hyung..."
"Taehyung?"
"J-Jungkook... he's not home yet?"
"Oh-he's here. Should I send him back?"
"No... send me the address. I'll come."
"Okay. Sending it now."
As soon as the message dropped in, Taehyung grabbed his jacket and dashed out the door. The night air bit at his skin, but he didn't care.
He flagged down a taxi, barely whispering the address through trembling lips.
" Oh God " He whispered to himself. Tears kept flowing from his eyes. And he did not know what to do to stop them.
He's coming here," Yoongi said softly as he stepped into the living room, where Jungkook sat curled up on the couch-knees to his chest, head resting atop them like a boy too tired to carry the weight of himself anymore.
Jungkook lifted his head slowly. A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it was hollow, ghosted, lifeless.
"He'll stay, Jungkook," Yoongi said, voice calm but certain.
Jungkook's eyes lowered again. "He should... because I don't think I have anything left to hold on to now."
A quiet moment passed before the doorbell rang.
Yoongi walked to the door and opened it.
Taehyung stepped in, his face tight with urgency and eyes clouded with emotion.
"W-where is he?" he asked, breath short.
"In the living room," Yoongi replied, and without another word, he turned and disappeared into his room, leaving the two hearts to find each other again.
Taehyung moved toward the couch, feet silent against the floor. His eyes fell on Jungkook, sitting motionless, hands folded in his lap, head bowed low-as if weighed down by everything he never said.
He stopped in front of him. And in Jungkook's blurred vision, the first thing he saw were soft feet planted just before him.
And then-warmth.
Taehyung's arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling his face into his stomach, holding him like something precious and fragile. Like something he'd finally found and couldn't afford to lose again.
Jungkook gripped Taehyung's waist, fingers curling into the fabric like an anchor. Then a sob tore out of him-raw, helpless. His tears soaked through Taehyung's shirt, and Taehyung's own eyes filled with tears that refused to fall silently.
They cried.
For the lost time, for the years stolen by silence, for all the love left unspoken.
And when their breaths finally steadied, and the world stilled around them, Taehyung gently pulled back.
With both hands, he cupped Jungkook's face, his thumbs brushing away the tears with care so delicate it could shatter bones.
Jungkook looked up-and Taehyung's heart squeezed painfully at the sight of those wide, broken doe eyes, filled with so much pain and hope.
"I'm sorry,I am so sorry. I-Jungkook." Taehyung whispered, voice trembling like a promise.
Jungkook shook his head slowly, eyes fluttering closed. He held onto Taehyung's hands that still rested on his cheeks, needing the touch like air.
"Taehyung?" he murmured.
"Hmm?"
"I feel... too exposed."
"It's okay," Taehyung whispered back, leaning closer, forehead resting gently against Jungkook's. "It's okay, Jungkook. I am sorry. Please. "
"Will you stay?" Jungkook's voice cracked. "Tell me... Will I ever be worth it for you? I-I tried... I really tried to show you but..." His breath hitched, breaking against his own words.
Taehyung's heart clenched so tightly it ached.
He looked into Jungkook's tear-soaked face, held him a little tighter, and whispered,
"Forgive me for this."
Then he leaned down, just a little-tentative, almost afraid-but his lips found Jungkook's in a gentle, feather-light kiss. It was brief, a moment no longer than a heartbeat, soft enough to feel like a question.
When he pulled back, uncertainty flickered in his eyes-but before he could step away, Jungkook's hand shot up, wrapping around his wrist.
"Tae-"
In a blur of motion, Jungkook yanked him forward, pulling him flush into his lap, arms wrapping tightly around his waist.
Then he kissed him.
Not like a question, but like an answer-raw, aching, deep.
Like years of silence cracking open all at once.
Taehyung gasped softly against his mouth, arms looping around Jungkook's neck, holding on like the world had finally righted itself. Their lips moved in sync, messy and breathless, but perfect in every way it mattered. They didn't need to speak-everything they were, everything they had ever felt, was pouring through every touch, every press of lips, every quiet gasp.
Jungkook's hands held him like he was something he'd lost and found again-something precious.
Taehyung's fingers tangled in his hair, anchoring himself as if afraid this would disappear.
They broke the kiss only when breath demanded it, their foreheads resting together, their chests rising and falling in unison.
And in that small living room, where two broken hearts finally found refuge in each other-
The night wrapped around them, warm and forgiving.
Started giving up on the word forever
Until you give up heaven so we could be together
You're my angel, angel baby
Angel, you're my angel, baby
Chapter 26: Still with you
Chapter Text
They both needed time now.
Too many questions still hung unspoken in the air,
too many stories left to be told.
But for now, for the first time in what felt like forever,
both hearts were wrapped in a fragile peace.
And maybe—just maybe—that was enough for tonight.
They left Yoongi’s apartment in silence,
not heavy,
but tender.
The kind of silence that doesn’t beg to be filled.
Just shared.
When they reached home, Jungkook unlocked the door,
Taehyung trailing behind—soft steps, uncertain air.
Jungkook stepped inside first,
his back to him, pausing before turning around,
clearly a little nervous,
eyes darting,
like he still couldn’t believe Taehyung was really here.
“I’ll get us something to drink,”
he said, almost too quietly,
and disappeared into the kitchen before Taehyung could answer.
Taehyung smiled faintly,
the corners of his lips tugging upward
as he lowered himself onto the couch.
His head throbbed a little from all the crying,
but his heart—
his heart was strangely light.
When Jungkook returned, he held two glasses of juice—
one in each hand, a soft blush creeping into his cheeks.
He offered one to Taehyung
like it was something sacred.
Taehyung accepted with a gentle nod,
fingers brushing for the briefest second—
and it was like their hearts paused
to listen.
He took a slow sip, then placed the glass carefully on the table.
Turning towards Jungkook,
his gaze was quieter now—
not filled with questions,
but something more open.
Something that said, “I’m here. I’m not leaving.”
And in that soft space between heartbeats,
the room filled with something wordless,
but not empty.
Something like beginning again.
He took a sip and placed the glass down gently,
then turned toward Jungkook.
“Jungkook…”
he spoke softly,
but Jungkook kept staring ahead, sipping quietly,
his gaze fixed on nothing,
as if afraid to look.
Taehyung’s smile was bittersweet.
He reached out,
his hand wrapping around Jungkook’s,
thumb brushing softly against his knuckles.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry for hurting you all these years.”
Jungkook finally turned, eyes searching.
“Why are you sorry?” he asked.
“You didn’t know. Please… stop apologizing.”
Taehyung blinked, his voice tender.
“So… you were the boy at the festival?”
Jungkook nodded slowly,
a shy blush creeping into his cheeks.
A quiet laugh escaped Taehyung.
“You know… that day, you made me the happiest person in the world.
You healed something I didn’t even know was broken.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened.
“Really?”
Taehyung nodded.
“I was having a bad day.
Jimin took me to the festival to get away from home.
Then you… you danced with me.
You sang.
I wanted to know who you were so badly.
I even tried to find you after,
but… I wasn’t in good terms with anyone at school.
No one knew.”
Jungkook squeezed his hand,
a quiet warmth blooming in his chest.
“How?” Taehyung asked.
“How could you love me all these years?
I wasn’t even worth it…”
Jungkook’s heart twisted.
He pulled Taehyung into a hug, arms wrapping around him tightly.
“If you could see yourself through my eyes,”
he whispered into his hair,
“you’d understand just how much you’re worth.”
He pulled back just enough to look at him.
“Every day… I fell for you a little more.
Until it wasn’t just love—it was survival.
After my parents left,
I barely held on…
but your memory kept me sane.”
Taehyung’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“Your feelings… they’re too much.
And I… I’m too empty to return them.
How will I ever—”
“Just stay,” Jungkook cut in gently.
“You don’t have to do anything else.
My love is enough for both of us.”
Taehyung’s hand rose to Jungkook’s hair,
fingers threading through the strands, tucking them behind his ear.
Jungkook spoke again, quieter this time.
“Why did you leave school?
I looked for you that last day… but you never came.”
Taehyung looked away, then sighed.
He owed him honesty now.
“Because of my father,” he whispered.
Jungkook’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak.
He waited.
“He was… never good.
He hurt mom, and noona always protected me.
But that night—he came home drunk,
blood on his shirt.
He started shouting, saying I had to work with him,
hit mom again.
When noona tried to stop him,
he pushed her—she fell from the stairs.
Her leg was broken badly.
The hospital couldn’t save her from the damage.
She needed surgery—expensive, painful.
We didn’t have anything.”
Taehyung swallowed.
“Later, police came.
My father… caused an accident. A family died.
The police kept searching our house.
The neighbors called us criminals.
I had to leave school.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I needed money.
Any job.
I studied from home.
But life… it never gave me space to breathe.
And I couldn’t dream. Not when I had people to protect.”
His voice broke.
But he smiled through it, weakly.
“I survived. That’s all I could do.”
Jungkook reached out, wiping the tears from his cheeks.
“You’re strong, Taehyung,” he whispered.
“You are too,” Taehyung replied.
“I just wonder…
If we had met again at school, maybe things would be different.”
Jungkook smiled.
“But we wouldn’t have this story.
And I’m glad—because in the end,
I still got you.”
Taehyung looked down, laughing softly through tears.
“I’ve never loved before.
Never even felt what it meant.
My life never allowed it.
But now…
Now that I’m feeling it, it’s overwhelming.”
“I’ve had years of experience,” Jungkook grinned.
“I’ll teach you.”
Taehyung laughed, cheeks flushed.
“I still feel like this is a dream.
How can someone love me this long?”
Jungkook flicked his forehead.
“You better believe it.
I went through hell to get here.”
Taehyung pouted—until Jungkook pulled him into his lap.
Taehyung gasped softly.
“Jungkook…” he breathed.
Jungkook’s hand cupped his cheek, thumb brushing his skin.
“Am I allowed to kiss you anytime now… my senior?”
Taehyung’s blush deepened.
He gave the softest nod.
Their lips met—slow, searching, full of all the years they lost.
The kiss deepened,
until the world around them faded.
Jungkook rose, holding Taehyung wrapped around his waist,
taking him to the bedroom.
He placed him gently on the bed,
hovered above,
kissed again—
until breathless silence made room for quiet hearts.
Then he lay beside him, pulling him close to his chest.
“Let’s visit your family after the trial,” he said softly.
Taehyung looked up, surprised.
“Really?”
Jungkook nodded.
“Your noona’s surgery… we’ll be there.”
Taehyung smiled, eyes wet again.
“Thank you.”
“They’re my family too now.”
Taehyung whispered,
“You really got close to them, huh?”
“I’ve been planning to marry you ever since you showed up again,” Jungkook said with a soft laugh.
“So I figured… if your family loved me,
maybe my chances would be better.”
Taehyung laughed too, then tears spilled once more.
“This is… too much.
How will I ever return it?”
Jungkook only held him tighter.
“You’re here.
That’s all I ever wanted.”
The apartment was quiet, dimly lit with the amber hue of a single lamp near the couch. Jimin, about to retreat into the calm of his room, paused as the doorbell echoed through the stillness. He blinked, surprised at the hour.
With a soft sigh, he padded over and opened the door.
Yoongi stood there, a faint smile playing on his lips, wind-tousled hair and eyes that looked like home.
“You finally remembered I exist,” Jimin said, arching a brow with a tinge of mock annoyance.
Yoongi chuckled, stepping in. “Stop sulking. I was… caught up.”
Jimin folded his arms, leaning slightly against the door frame. “Care to elaborate?”
“Jungkook and Taehyung,” Yoongi said, voice gentling.
Jimin’s expression softened. “Are they okay? When I left the apartment this morning, Taehyung looked like he was sinking.”
Yoongi nodded, stepping closer, his fingers brushing Jimin’s arm before pulling him into an embrace. “They're okay now. They found each other again.”
Jimin exhaled, resting his chin on Yoongi’s shoulder. “That’s a relief.”
Yoongi’s voice dropped to a murmur, meant only for the quiet between them. “I'm glad they met… because through them, I found you.”
Jimin pulled back just enough to see his eyes, the warmth in them. He smiled.
“You weren’t easy,” Yoongi teased, thumb brushing Jimin’s cheek.
Jimin rolled his eyes, swatting at his arm gently. “I needed to be sure. Trust… doesn’t come easy to me.”
Yoongi didn't respond right away. Instead, he looked at him for a moment longer, like he was reading a language only he could see on Jimin's face.
“I know,” he finally whispered. “But I’m here now.”
A silence settled between them—comforting, patient.
“Come to bed,” Yoongi said softly. “I’m staying tonight.”
Jimin nodded, his heart quiet but full. “Alright. But you’re not stealing the blanket.”
Yoongi laughed, lacing their fingers together as they walked toward the bedroom, the echo of past hesitations fading behind them, replaced by the soft rhythm of something real—slow, steady, and lasting.
Yoongi stood by the window, the city lights reflected in the glass like scattered thoughts. His voice was low but certain.
“The lawyer called today,” he said, turning to Jungkook who sat at his desk, flipping through the last page of a document. “The hearing’s scheduled for tomorrow morning.”
Jungkook closed the file with a soft thud, exhaling slowly through his nose.
“And Taehyung’s father?” he asked, his voice tighter than usual.
Yoongi nodded. “They caught him. The location you gave helped. It’s done.”
A long pause lingered between them. The hum of the office clock grew louder.
“What about his trial?” Jungkook finally asked, eyes fixed on the corner of the desk as if anchoring himself.
“We’ll need Taehyung to testify,” Yoongi said gently. “He’s the only one who can solidly connect all the dots. He knows too much… and survived too much.”
Jungkook’s jaw tensed. “I’ll talk to him.”
Yoongi stepped forward, slipping a document from his coat and placing it on the table.
“Also—about the company shares. After the hearing, they’ll officially be transferred to your name. You coming to the court?”
Jungkook looked at the papers, then at the floor, his hands clenching into fists.
“I’ll talk to Taehyung first,” he said, voice quiet, but resolute. “Let you know after.”
Yoongi studied him for a moment, then asked, “Where are you going now?”
Jungkook stood, pushing the chair back. He adjusted his coat, eyes distant.
“Yena,” he said softly.
Yoongi nodded, not stopping him.
Jungkook walked to the door, the weight of too many truths in his steps.
The café was quiet, tucked away from the noise of the world, its windows fogged by the gentle warmth inside. Jungkook stepped in, scanning the room until his gaze landed on her.
Yena sat at a corner table, fingers nervously circling the rim of her cup, eyes distant — lost somewhere between guilt and sorrow.
He walked over, his steps measured, soft.
“Hey,” he greeted with a small smile, as if trying to offer comfort in its simplest form.
She looked up and mirrored the smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Hi.”
“I’ll order something,” Jungkook said gently, motioning to the waiter. The silence between them was heavy but not hostile — it was the kind that waited for the right words to lift it.
When the coffee arrived, he took a sip before speaking, trying to ease her into something lighter. “So… how’s it going with Mingyu? I hope he’s treating you right. If not, just tell me — I’ll smack him so hard he’ll forget his name.”
Yena let out a soft laugh — the kind that trembles. “He’s a gentleman. You don’t have to worry.”
Jungkook nodded, lips curving slightly, the air between them softening.
Then, she lowered her gaze. Her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry, Jungkook.”
He looked at her, eyes steady.
Tears welled in her eyes. “I didn’t know… about Dad. I didn’t know he was—like that.”
Jungkook’s expression didn’t waver. Calm. Kind.
“Why are you apologizing?” he asked softly. “It wasn’t your fault, Yena. Not even for a second.”
She blinked, lips trembling.
“I never blamed you. Not once. You’ve always been, and will always be, my sister. Look at me.” He reached out, resting a hand over hers. “Did I ever make you feel like you didn’t matter to me?”
She shook her head, the tears falling freely now.
“Then let go of that guilt,” he whispered. “You don’t have to carry it.”
Yena smiled through the tears, fragile but real. “I’m planning to move abroad with Mom… after the hearing. It’s just… I don’t feel right here anymore. Everything feels too heavy.”
Jungkook’s hand didn’t leave hers. “And Mingyu?”
“I told him. He’s supporting me completely. Said he’ll visit when he can.”
A quiet smile tugged at Jungkook’s lips. “He’s a good one.”
They sat like that for a while — two souls with shared history, sipping warmth from coffee cups and filling the spaces between words with forgiveness and unspoken love.
Outside, the clouds parted slightly. Inside, something had healed.
“It’s not like that. You’re doing it wrong,” Taehyung exclaimed, voice rising with playful disbelief.
Jungkook stood by the stove, a pout forming on his lips as he placed the marbled steak into the hot oil. The sizzle was sharp, but his voice came out softer. “What? I’m doing it right.”
Taehyung crossed his arms dramatically. “If it doesn’t taste good, you’re sleeping on the couch. That’s final.”
“What? No way. That’s not fair!”
“It absolutely is,” Taehyung replied with a grin, hopping off the counter and making his way to the dining table like a judge awaiting the verdict.
Jungkook chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he focused on plating the steak. Moments later, he approached Taehyung, setting the dish in front of him with a flourish before sliding into the seat beside him. Hands clasped, eyes hopeful — he looked like a schoolboy waiting for praise.
Taehyung studied the steak. Then Jungkook. Then back at the plate. He cut into it slowly, chewing with a perfectly unreadable expression.
“Hmmm,” he muttered, face blank. “I think you need to prepare the couch.”
“What?! I can make another one!” Jungkook panicked. “You should be a little kinder—”
A burst of laughter cut through the tension as Taehyung broke into giggles, eyes twinkling. “It’s amazing,” he admitted. “ Mr. CEO. I was just messing with you. And you can sleep in your room. ”
“And you…” Jungkook grinned, “can sleep in my arms.”
“God,” Taehyung groaned, hiding his reddened face, “maybe it was better when we were just formal.”
“You never noticed I was always flirting with you?”
“I thought you were just being kind.”
Jungkook laughed softly. “Please. Who kisses someone just for kindness?”
Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Wait. What?!”
“Ah—no—I mean, it wasn’t like that,” Jungkook stammered. “You were asleep. He paused "....It was the night of the party… I said some things I shouldn’t have, and after you fell asleep, I— I just kissed your forehead. That’s all.”
Taehyung blinked, stunned. A rush of warmth colored his cheeks.
“Oh…”
Jungkook tilted his head. “Isn’t it cute?”
“Just eat,” Taehyung muttered, swatting Jungkook’s arm, trying to mask the flutter in his chest.
They ate quietly, the TV humming in the background. After dinner, they curled up on the couch, a blanket pulled over their legs. Jungkook’s arm found its way around Taehyung’s shoulders.
“Come closer,” he whispered, pulling him in gently. “There’s something I need to talk about.”
“What is it?” Taehyung asked, his voice mellow.
“Your father.”
Taehyung’s body stiffened slightly.
“I’m not forcing you,” Jungkook said carefully. “He has a hearing tomorrow. We need a witness to testify. But it’s your choice. If you don’t want to face him, we’ll find another way.”
“I’ll go,” Taehyung said quietly. “He needs to pay for what he did. To me… to my mom… to Yena… and to you.”
Jungkook tightened the hug, letting silence say the rest.
“I’ll be right beside you,” he promised. “You won’t face him alone.”
A smile flickered on Taehyung’s lips — soft, trusting.
Jungkook gently pulled away. “Okay. Let’s watch something now. You stay here. I’ll grab some snacks.”
He disappeared into the kitchen. Taehyung shifted on the couch, adjusting the blanket as the movie played.
And then — suddenly — the screen glitched, flickered, and jumped to something else.
“Huh?” he frowned, reaching for the remote. “Where is it?”
The volume spiked. The screen darkened. A horror movie began — blood-red titles, eerie music crawling through the room like shadows.
“J-Jungkook…” Taehyung called, heart racing. “Hey, something’s wrong—”
And then the creature on screen screamed.
Taehyung bolted up with a shriek. “Jungkook! This is not funny!”
Laughter erupted from behind the counter.
Taehyung whipped around, eyes narrowing. “I swear, I’ll divorce you if you don’t show yourself right now!”
Jungkook peeked over the counter, hands raised in mock surrender, giggling like a child. “Hi?”
“Oh you—” Taehyung yanked a slipper off his foot and chased after him.
Jungkook screamed, dodging around the furniture. “Hey! Stop! I’m sorry!”
“Come back here, menace!”
Their laughter echoed through the apartment like a song — joy, mischief, warmth — a rhythm only they could create. In a world full of shadows, they had carved a little light for themselves — glowing, chaotic, and real.
Chapter 27: Die for you
Chapter Text
Taehyung sat in the backseat of the car, the soft hum of the engine beneath him barely louder than the sound of his own heartbeat. His fingers nervously toyed with the hem of his shirt, twisting and untwisting, a silent rhythm of unease.
The door beside him opened, and Jungkook slid in. Without a word, he reached over and took Taehyung’s hand — a quiet, grounding gesture.
A gentle squeeze.
A silent promise.
Taehyung looked at him, and a small smile bloomed on his lips — uncertain, but full of trust.
“It will be okay,” Jungkook murmured, voice warm like morning sunlight. “Just breathe.”
The front doors clicked open, and Yoongi settled behind the wheel, with Jimin slipping in beside him.
Yoongi spoke, tone low and steady. “First, Woo Jin’s hearing. Then Soo Hyun and Chairman Jeon.”
His words fell like slow bells in a quiet chapel. One name after another — the ghosts they were about to face.
The car rolled forward, and silence fell — a silence not heavy with fear, but with courage learning to walk beside it.
When they reached the courthouse, the city noise returned — flashing cameras, distant voices, the subtle press of history being written.
Jungkook turned to Taehyung, brushing his knuckles with the back of his thumb.
“You stay here with Jimin,” he said softly. “We’ll talk with the lawyer and come get you.”
Taehyung nodded, his voice stuck somewhere between breath and hope.
He watched Jungkook walk away, shoulder-to-shoulder with Yoongi, their backs strong against the morning light.
Jimin placed a comforting hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “Finally, Tae,” he said, his voice laced with gentle warmth. “It’s going to be alright. You made it here. That’s not nothing.”
Taehyung hummed, eyes soft, lips lifting slightly.
But then — he turned to Jimin, his brows drawing together in mock suspicion.
“You,” he said, voice quiet but firm. “You didn’t tell me about Yoongi-hyung.”
Jimin blinked, startled. A small gulp, a sheepish look.
“Tae… I was going to, I swear. It’s just… a long story.”
“I want details,” Taehyung said, eyes narrowing — but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Jimin exhaled a breathy laugh. “Sure. I owe you.”
Just then, Yoongi’s voice echoed gently across the lot. “Taehyung. Jimin.”
They turned to see him waiting, his expression calm, waiting to lead them inside — into the courtroom, into the truth, into the ending of what once broke them.
The courtroom felt heavier than walls could carry —
its silence draped in echoes of past sins and truth untold.
They stepped inside, one by one,
Taehyung’s fingers clutching his shirt as if fabric could hold back fear.
Jungkook was beside him,
quiet and calm.
They sat on the left —
Yoongi and Jimin flanking them with quiet strength.
Then the clank of chains echoed.
Woo Jin was brought in, cuffed, guarded,
but still wearing that same air of violence Taehyung remembered.
Taehyung's hands trembled.
Jungkook reached over and squeezed,
a silent tether.
A lighthouse.
The judge entered.
Everyone rose.
And the trial began.
"Case No. XXXXX.
Kim Woo Jin — charges:
Murder of Jeon Jun Ho and Jeon Mira,
Domestic violence,
Drug trafficking."
The defense lawyer rose first — bold, detached.
"My client has already served time for the accident.
There’s no valid witness to support further charges.
This case is fiction, Your Honor."
"Objection," the plaintiff’s lawyer cut in.
"Its not an accident your honor. We have witness documentation filed already.
And I’d like to call him forward now."
The judge nodded.
"I call Kim Taehyung to the stand — son of the defendant."
The courtroom shifted.
"Objection, Your Honor — he’s the son, biased—"
"Overruled," the judge stated.
"The court will hear him."
Jungkook leaned closer to Taehyung.
"Just breathe. If it’s too much, just look at me. I’m right here."
Taehyung gave a faint smile.
Then stood, legs unsteady but heart firm.
He took the stand — alone, yet not.
Every word was wrapped in pain — but delivered in courage.
Lawyer came forward. " Kim taehyung. Can you please tell the judge about the day of incident".
"The day of the incident," he began,
"he came home... covered in blood.
He threw things. Screamed.
Said I had to leave with him, to take his place while he hid from police.
When my sister tried to stop him — he pushed her down the stairs. She broke her leg.
She’s still not healed."
A deep breath.
"He used to beat my mother.
He worked with a man named Kang, in drugs.
And the accident wasn’t an accident. It was money. It was planned."
"Objection!" the defense barked.
"He was drunk—he served two years!"
Taehyung stood taller.
"He was not drunk. He was lucid.
And when he came home, he was smiling."
Woo Jin lunged.
"You liar—!"
Security restrained him.
But rage boiled over.
"You said I’d be safe!" he shouted at Jungkook.
"You lied! It was your grandfather who planned everything!"
Gasps.
"It was his family!" he screamed. "Why should I rot alone?"
Jungkook’s jaw clenched,
but he didn’t flinch.
The truth was a blade — he had already bled on it.
"You made an eighteen-year-old an orphan,"
Taehyung cried out, voice shaking.
"You destroyed lives. You are a monster."
The judge banged the gavel.
"Order in the courtroom!"
Taehyung stepped down, body trembling,
and collapsed softly into the seat beside Jungkook.
He didn’t speak — just reached.
Jungkook took his hand.
The judge resumed. He checked all the documents.
"All evidence presented and confession noted.
Kim Woo Jin — sentenced to 10 years for murder (Article 250),
5 years for domestic abuse,
and a fine of 100 million won for trafficking.
This court is adjourned."
Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut —
and exhaled a breath that had been locked in his chest for years.
But the next names echoed through the court —
Soo Hyun. Jeon kihyun.
Jungkook stood and walked out.
He had no desire to see the faces
that turned his childhood to ash.
They waited in a quiet room — four walls, no noise.
Only the soft hum of what healing might sound like.
An hour later, Yoongi returned.
"It’s done," he said.
Jungkook looked up. "Tell me."
Yoongi nodded.
"The company’s yours now — fully.
Kihyun received life imprisonment for instigating the murder and for embezzlement.
Soo Hyun — five years and a massive fine for embezzlement."
No smiles. Just a slow inhale.
A full breath.
After years of suffocating.
Taehyung gently touched Jungkook’s sleeve.
"You want to go?" he asked softly.
Jungkook turned to him.
"Yeah," he said. "Let’s go home."
They stepped out of the courtroom —
the sky overcast, as if the world, too, was unsure how to feel.
Jungkook’s hand brushed against Taehyung’s lightly,
just enough to say, I’m here. We’re free now.
But peace — it’s never so simple.
The sound of footsteps echoed.
Security passing by.
And between them — two ghosts draped in suits.
Soo Hyun and kihyun.
Soo hyun did not speak as he is also tired of all this.
The air grew heavier.
The older man’s eyes fell on Jungkook — sharp, resentful,
like daggers too dull to kill, yet too cruel to ignore.
"I raised you," Kihyun sneered,
"and you dare bite the hand that fed you, you bastard?"
Jungkook’s jaw clenched tight,
but he didn’t speak.
Taehyung stepped forward, voice trembling with fury.
"Stop manipulating him!
He saw you as family.
And you— you tore him apart piece by piece.
He was a boy and you twisted him into something he never chose to be."
His chest rose with ragged breaths,
memories from the journal still aching behind his ribs.
The pain of a child forced into silence.
The loneliness in every line Jungkook had once written in secret.
Chairman Jeon scoffed,
"A child? I made him strong. His parents were weak.
I taught him how this world works."
"Don’t speak of them."
Jungkook’s voice was low, like a distant thundercloud.
He stepped forward, eyes aflame,
and grabbed the kihyun’s collar.
"Don’t you dare mention them with your filthy mouth."
But the kihyun only smiled,
a twisted grin that made the earth still for a second.
"You think it ends here?
If I can’t have my legacy—
you don’t get to be happy either."
Then, chaos.
He lunged—
grabbing the weapon from a distracted guard.
A scream. A gasp. A dozen feet frozen in time.
He turned the gun.
Pointed it at Taehyung.
Jungkook’s heart stopped.
"Put it down!" Security barked.
"Stay back!" He shouted,
his eyes deranged, his hands trembling with madness.
Yoongi moved, trying to signal Jungkook—
"Don’t go near," his eyes begged.
But then—
The shot.
It echoed like fate snapping in half.
Taehyung's eyes widened.
But he felt no pain.
Only a weight—
a body pushing him down, shielding him.
And then—
Warmth.
Not his own.
He reached up with shaking hands,
and touched Jungkook’s back—
his palm met blood.
Hot. Soaking.
"No... no no no..."
His breath caught in his throat.
"Jungkook..."
Jimin and Yoongi ran to them.
Security grabbing kihyun and putting him in van.
Jungkook was barely conscious,
face pale, lips trembling.
Eyes fluttering like a candle about to die.
Taehyung cradled him,
his sobs breaking out loud now.
"Open your eyes... please. You can’t do this—
you promised me."
Yoongi pressed his hands over the wound,
voice calm despite the storm,
"It’s okay. Help’s coming.
Just stay awake, Jungkook."
Taehyung cried,
his voice cracking like glass.
"Why would he do that?"
The sirens came —
a red scream slicing through the stillness.
They took Jungkook from his arms.
Taehyung’s hands reached out as if to pull him back.
But his legs were numb.
His breath shallow.
Jimin caught him, guided him gently into the car,
his own hands shaking as they drove behind the ambulance.
At the hospital, everything was white.
Blinding. Silent. Cold.
They rushed Jungkook into surgery.
Doors slammed shut.
Taehyung stood before them,
hands stained with blood that wasn’t his.
Heart held together by a single hope.
The hospital walls were far too white.
Too silent for a heart that had just shattered.
Taehyung sat on the cold bench, hands still stained—
his shirt crumpled, eyes hollow.
He had washed his palms three times already.
But the red wouldn’t leave.
Not the color,
the weight.
Jimin sat beside him, quiet,
not knowing if words would help or wound.
Yoongi paced near the wall,
his face unreadable,
only his clenched fists betraying the storm within.
Taehyung’s eyes didn’t blink.
Inside that room…
behind the thick metal doors…
lay Jungkook.
The boy who gave him words when he had none.
The boy who loved him from shadows.
The boy who smiled through pain.
The boy who took a bullet meant for him.
Taehyung didn’t pray—
he was never taught how.
But he whispered anyway.
To the ceiling.
To the air.
To Jungkook’s name echoing inside his chest.
“Come back to me.”
Three hours passed.
The hallway lights flickered quietly. Every second dragged on like eternity until the doctor finally stepped out, fatigue in his eyes but hope resting in his smile.
“The bullet’s been removed. He’s safe now. He’ll wake up in an hour or two.”
Taehyung felt his knees weaken from the relief, a breath he didn’t know he was holding finally escaping his lungs. They shifted Jungkook to a private room, and Taehyung took his place beside him—no force on earth could’ve moved him away.
His fingers found Jungkook’s, gently lacing together. He held them like a lifeline, like a prayer answered after years of silence.
He leaned closer, voice trembling with weight he could no longer carry alone.
“Is this… how you felt all those years?”
His eyes welled up.
“Jungkook, I thought my world ended when I saw you covered in blood. I thought I lost you.”
Tears slipped down his cheeks like rain finding its way home.
“How did you bear this pain for years when I can’t handle it just for hours?”
His voice cracked.
“Why did you take the bullet?”
His head dipped, resting on their joined hands.
“You shouldn’t have… I don’t deserve you. I never did.”
And then silence.
A stillness broken only by his soft, aching sobs.
Eventually, sleep took him—exhaustion wrapping around him like a blanket.
Yoongi and jimin came to check Jungkook. He still not awake. Jimin saw taehyung resting his head on the bed beside jungkook.
"Let them be". Yoongi said and both left the room.
.
.
.
A warm hand threaded through his hair.
He stirred.
Then blinked—
And met those eyes.
Those familiar, beautiful eyes.
“J-Jungkook…” he gasped.
He lunged forward, cradling Jungkook’s face in his trembling hands like it might vanish again.
“You took my breath today,” he whispered, voice barely a breath.
“Oh really?” Jungkook smiled faintly, teasing despite the fatigue.
“Mhm,” Taehyung said, lips quivering, eyes glassy again. He tried not to cry.
But the tears came anyway—soft, helpless, unstoppable.
“Please… don’t ever do that again. Please, Jungkook…”
His voice broke on his plea.
Jungkook reached up weakly, thumb brushing away tears from Taehyung’s cheek.
“Stop crying, idiot,” he murmured.
“I’m okay. I’m right here.”
The door creaked open gently, and in walked Yoongi and Jimin.
Taehyung quickly wiped his tears, but his red eyes betrayed him.
Yoongi moved closer, placing a comforting hand on Jungkook’s head, fingers threading softly through his hair.
“I swear,” he exhaled, “I’ve never been this scared in my life, Jungkook.”
A crooked smile tugged at Jungkook’s lips. He knew Yoongi meant every word.
Not just a brother in name—but in soul.
Then Jimin stepped forward, a little awkward, still stuck in old formalities.
“You okay, Mr. Jeon?”
Jungkook raised a brow.
“I’m okay. And drop the formalities already,” he grinned.
“You’re going to be my hyung’s forever. We’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”
Jimin turned red. Yoongi pretended to be unbothered.
But Taehyung could see the smile hiding in the curve of Yoongi’s lips.
The four of them laughed—finally.
Like survivors of a long winter catching their first sun.
Later, as the moment softened again, Yoongi turned to Taehyung.
“By the way, your sister’s surgery—I rescheduled it. You both can’t travel yet. He needs to stay a week more for recovery.”
Taehyung nodded, eyes grateful.
He looked back at Jungkook,
whose head now rested calmly against the pillow—his hand still in Taehyung’s.
And for the first time in what felt like lifetimes,
Taehyung allowed himself to believe—
that maybe this peace was real.
The room had quieted after Yoongi and Jimin left, a soft hush settling over the hospital suite. The hum of distant machines, the rhythmic beeping, and the occasional rustle of linen framed the moment gently.
Taehyung walked in with a tray, his hands steady despite the ache in his chest.
He adjusted Jungkook’s bed gently, lifting him just enough to sit comfortably.
Then he placed the bowl of warm soup on the tray table and dipped the spoon in, bringing it carefully to Jungkook’s lips.
Jungkook opened his mouth obediently, his eyes never leaving Taehyung’s face.
But Taehyung—too focused on the soup—didn’t notice.
“Look at me at least,” Jungkook murmured, voice soft but pointed.
Taehyung blinked, glancing at him with a chuckle.
“Why are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking,” Jungkook pouted faintly. “You’re just not paying enough attention to your husband, Mr. Kim.”
Taehyung raised a brow. “I’m literally feeding you.”
“I want more attention. Emotional nourishment too,” Jungkook muttered dramatically, finishing the last spoonful.
Taehyung rolled his eyes, fondness blooming in his chest as he set the bowl aside.
“Now lay down and rest,” he instructed, adjusting the bed slightly, tucking the blanket gently.
But Jungkook frowned. “Where are you going?”
“To the couch,” Taehyung replied simply, turning to grab the blanket from the side.
“What? Why?” Jungkook’s voice rose a notch.
“What?” Taehyung asked back, confused.
“Why the couch? We need to cuddle. That’s medically necessary.”
Taehyung’s heart stuttered.
“You’re still recovering, Jungkook. We’ll do that at home.”
Jungkook's eyes widened slightly, bottom lip pushing out.
“I literally came back from death. You should be holding me so I don’t try to leave again.”
He blinked at Taehyung, all wide-eyed innocence.
“You clearly don’t know anything about lovers.”
Taehyung stared at him, speechless.
“I won’t even move,” Jungkook continued, voice soft and coaxing. “Just lay beside me. Just hold me.”
There was no winning.
So Taehyung quietly moved beside him, slipping under the blanket, gently placing his arm around Jungkook’s waist.
“You’re still sulking,” Taehyung whispered against his hair.
“Well, Mr. Kim,” Jungkook exhaled dramatically, “you didn’t even give me a welcome kiss. I woke up from almost dying and got a lecture instead. How’s that fair—”
His words fell short the moment Taehyung leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against his lips—gentle, steady, grounding.
Then, just as easily, Taehyung lay back down, eyes closed.
“Now sleep,” he murmured.
Jungkook was quiet for a breath, then smiled, a soft, content glow in his chest.
He reached for Taehyung’s hand under the blanket, threading their fingers.
His Taehyung.
Finally here. Finally his.
The room was quiet, dim light washing over pale walls.
Jungkook had dozed off again, his face soft, lashes resting like whispers against his cheeks.
Taehyung turned his head slightly, gazing at him—long and still.
There was a kind of peace on Jungkook’s face, the kind that comes not from ease,
but from exhaustion… from surviving too long.
And suddenly, Taehyung felt his throat tighten.
His eyes welled up without warning.
He saw him—not as a man who ran a company, or the one who shielded him from a bullet—
but the boy. The same boy from years ago.
The boy who danced behind a mask and sang beneath the stars.
The boy who left notes with warm lunches,
who faced the world’s cruelties alone yet still smiled for him.
He was still there.
That boy—so full of quiet love, hidden ache, and selfless courage—
still curled somewhere in Jungkook’s heart.
And it hurt.
It hurt to know how much he had to grow up when he deserved to be held.
It hurt to think how many nights Jungkook must have cried in silence,
how many mornings he carried grief.
How many years he became the man no child should be forced to become.
Taehyung brushed his fingers through Jungkook’s hair gently.
His tears slipped quietly, falling onto the hand he held.
And as he leaned down, placing a tender kiss on Jungkook’s forehead,
he promised silently—
He would never let that boy cry alone again.
Chapter 28: Belong together
Chapter Text
Jungkook had gotten better.
Truth was, he still leaned on Taehyung in silence, as if healing wasn't just of the body but of the soul too.
Today, the sky wore a soft grey, clouds drifting like whispered memories.
Jungkook drove, fingers tight on the wheel, eyes quietly battling the weight in his chest.
Beside him sat Taehyung—silent, supportive, a calm presence glowing like the first light after a storm.
They arrived.
The gates of the cemetery creaked open with time’s old breath.
Both stepped out of the car.
Taehyung reached out, gently threading his fingers through Jungkook's trembling ones.
Their eyes met briefly—Taehyung’s, steady and warm.
Jungkook nodded, lips pressed into a line, then exhaled as though letting go of years.
They walked.
Before the gravestone, Jungkook knelt, placing fresh white lilies down with reverence.
Taehyung joined him, knees brushing earth, the quiet around them sacred.
“Hi, Mom... hi, Dad,” Jungkook’s voice cracked softly.
A thin smile trembled on his lips as tears glazed his lashes.
“I know... it’s been too long, right? I’m sorry. I... I had to become someone first. Someone worthy.
But I did it. I made it. I made it for you both.”
His voice broke into a fragile laugh.
“Are you two okay up there? No fighting, alright?”
A single tear slipped down his cheek.
“I’m happy now.” He turned toward Taehyung, gripping his hand tightly.
“I came with someone… Isn’t he cute?”
Taehyung smiled softly, his cheeks dusted pink, eyes shimmering with emotion.
“I’m going to start my life with him,” Jungkook whispered, “and he makes me so, so happy.
Will you bless us? I hope you do…”
He blinked rapidly, but the tears fell anyway—fast, aching, unrelenting.
“I miss you both. So much it hurts.”
And with that, his body curled in on itself, sobs wracking through him like a child lost in time.
Taehyung wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.
Fingers slid gently through Jungkook’s hair, soothing the pain he could not erase,
his own tears falling into the silence between them.
Time passed like wind through leaves.
“Can I speak?” Taehyung asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Jungkook nodded, resting his head against Taehyung’s shoulder.
“Hello... eommoni, abeoji,” Taehyung spoke gently to the gravestone,
his gaze soft but steady, like prayer.
“It’s me—Kim Taehyung.”
He paused, voice thick with sincerity.
“Thank you. For giving this world your son. For raising someone so kind, so brave…
He’s an angel walking in this world. My world was dry and empty,
and then he came... and filled it with colors and warmth and blooming things.”
Jungkook lifted his head, eyes doe, lips parted.
Taehyung smiled down at him, his hand gently cupping Jungkook’s cheek.
“I promise I will never leave him. I’ll make him happy, just as he made me whole.”
Jungkook blinked, his eyes wide like a child, his chest rising with emotions too big for words.
He leaned into Taehyung’s embrace, forehead pressed against his heart.
And Taehyung held him—tightly, protectively—his fingers brushing through strands of raven hair.
They stayed like that.
Two souls breathing as one.
Grief melting into love, pain into promise,
beneath the watching sky and the silent witness of the ones they had loved.
1 month later:
Time, for once, had been kind.
In the weeks that passed, Taehyung’s world—so long defined by fractures—began to mend. His sister’s surgery was successful. Though she still relied on therapy to walk properly, her laughter had returned to their home. The light in their mother’s eyes had rekindled. The warmth of their house, once dimmed by years of fear and absence, glowed again. They got their house back.
And Taehyung? He had stayed with them through it all—through doctor visits, therapy appointments, quiet evenings on the floor eating rice and kimchi, and the gentle routines of healing. He wasn’t alone either. Jungkook was always there, whether with groceries in hand, warm words over the phone, or surprise visits in the evening to eat with them.
At work, Taehyung had resumed his position as Jungkook’s personal assistant, seamlessly fitting back into the rhythm of early meetings and late coffee breaks. Their routines were stable, soft. Domestic.
But still—something gnawed at Taehyung.
Jungkook had spent the entire month alone in his apartment. And while he never complained, never once mentioned it, Taehyung knew. Jungkook waited. He never asked for more than Taehyung could give—but he waited.
So, on a cool Saturday morning, Taehyung decided he’d had enough of distance.
He arrived at Jungkook’s apartment unannounced.
Buzzed the doorbell. Waited.
Inside, a very sleepy Jungkook shuffled to the door, hair messy, shirt wrinkled, eyes barely open. As soon as he saw who it was, his expression melted.
“Taehyung?” he blinked.
Taehyung stood there, hands in the pockets of his coat, a small amused smile curling on his lips. “Good morning.”
Jungkook let out a groggy sound somewhere between a groan and a giggle before pulling him into a loose hug. “You sneaky little human… you just made my whole week.”
Taehyung chuckled into his shoulder. “Let’s go inside. Today, I’ll cook breakfast.”
“Go freshen up. I’ll handle the kitchen,” Taehyung said, already moving toward the fridge.
Jungkook leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “At least give me a kiss first.”
Taehyung turned to him with a pointed look. “Freshen up. Now.”
Jungkook pouted. “Taehyung. Shouldn’t we— I mean we need to you know have some...what happen in movies between couples you know what I am saying. ”
A blush bloomed over Taehyung’s cheeks, and he glared playfully. “Go.”
Laughing, Jungkook retreated toward the bathroom. Taehyung shook his head fondly and began prepping a simple breakfast—toast, jam, coffee, eggs.
When Jungkook returned, hair damp and clothes changed, the table was set.
He took one bite and dramatically placed a hand over his heart. “Your hands. I need to kiss them. This is divine.”
Taehyung gave him a deadpan stare. “It’s literally bread. With jam.”
“So what?” Jungkook grinned, chewing happily. “You put the jam. That’s love.”
Taehyung shook his head. “You’re the most dramatic person.”
“Only for you.”
They laughed.
"When are you coming back? Your husband is alone for a month. " Jungkook said dramatically.
"Noona got better now. And eomma is telling me to go back as well. So may be _"
Jungkook eyes widen. " I am not letting you go today. "
Both laughed. Getting into conversation.
After breakfast, Jungkook quietly washed the dishes while Taehyung curled up on the couch, scrolling through the TV. Jungkook dried his hands, hesitated, then walked over and sat beside him.
They watched the movie together. Then jungkook said let's play games together and then they ordered food for lunch.Laughing, giggling.
Jungkook in between stealing glances. Clearly nervous of something.
He opened his mouth to speak, paused, and stared at the screen instead.
Taehyung glanced at him. “What’s bothering you?”
Jungkook scratched the back of his head. “I planned something. I kind of need your help.”
“For the company?” Taehyung asked.
Jungkook facepalmed. “Not for the company, no. I’ve been planning it for a week. I was going to pick you up tonight. But since you’re here… it works even better.”
Taehyung tilted his head, curious. “What is it?”
Jungkook smiled, standing up. “I already bought your clothes. There’s a cardigan in my room. I bought it for you for this day. ”
Taehyung narrowed his eyes.
Jungkook only smiled. “Be ready by 7. My car is outside.I have to head out first—i have some work to do before that. ”
“You’re not telling me anything?”
“You’ll know soon. Don’t be late, Mr. Kim.”
Taehyung stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the soft beige cardigan folded neatly on the bed earlier. He wore it over a white shirt and slacks, lightly styled his hair, and looked at the time—15 minutes to 7.
He stepped into the car Jungkook had sent and was dropped off at an unfamiliar location.
He adjusted his shirt a little. As the boy put some efforts to get ready for someone. To tell it's his first official date. Sure they ate together but if u ask in these three months. Never it will be like this between them.
Well jungkook did not say it was a date. But Taehyung got some hints as it may be a date. It's clearly a romantic spot.
Both are taking little steps in their lives. Well their marriage happens not in good circumstances but they are married and Taehyung is getting back to him as his sister is gotten better now. He promised to his parents he will stay with him. And jungkook he is so understanding like always.
A staff member approached him.
“Kim Taehyung?”
“Yes?”
“Right this way.” staff said and left him alone.
He followed the quiet path, eyebrows furrowed. The garden seemed deserted, shadows stretching between lanterns. He was about to turn back—
Suddenly, the lights burst to life.
Lanterns floated, fairy lights twinkled in the trees, and a path lit under his feet.
Taehyung stood frozen.
A soft guitar started strumming in the background.
Oh No. Taehyung heart beats too fast
And then—he heard the voice.
Listen to Double take by Dhruv.
I could say I never dare to think 'bout you in that way... But I would be lying. 🎵
Taehyung turned.
There stood Jungkook—in a tailored black turtle neck shirt , hair pushed back, eyes glossy. His voice floated through the air, steady yet emotional.
Oh it's the same boy.
🎵 And I pretend I'm happy for you
When you find some dude to take home
But I won't deny that 🎵
Taehyung’s heart cracked.
The song.
The same one.
Years ago, in school. A masquerade.
A cardigan.
A boy in a black mask.
The one who sang this very song as they danced.
Back then, he never found out who it was.
He knew now.
🎵 In the midst of the crowds
In the shapes in the clouds
I don't see nobody but you
In my rose-tinted dreams
Wrinkled silk on my sheets
I don't see nobody but you 🎵
Jungkook stepped closer, voice shaking.
🎵Boy, you got me hooked onto something
Who could say that they saw us coming?
Tell me
Do you feel the love? 🎵
Taehyung’s eyes filled with tears.
🎵Spend a summer or a lifetime with me
Let me take you to the place of your dreams
Tell me
Do you feel the love? 🎵
His legs moved on their own, walking toward the boy who once healed him with this very voice.
🎵 And I could say I never unzipped
Those blue Levi's inside my head
But that's far from the truth
Don't know what's come over me
It seems like yesterday when I said
"We'll be friends forever"🎵
Jungkook’s voice cracked, and a tear slid down his cheek.
Taehyung reached him, their breaths mingling, and neither said a word—just eyes, just silence, just a world folding into this moment.
🎵 Constellations of stars
Murals on city walls
I don't see nobody but you
You're my vice, you're my muse
You're a nineteenth floor view
I don't see nobody but you🎵
Jungkook gently took Taehyung’s hand.
🎵 Boy, you got me hooked onto something
Who could say that they saw us coming?
Tell me
Do you feel the love?🎵
“I held this song for six years, Taehyung,” Jungkook whispered. “It was all I had of you for so long.”
Taehyung’s tears fell freely now.
“And you were everything I wished for under that mask.”
Jungkook reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. Inside, a silver ring—elegant, simple, but glimmering under the lights.
“I wanted to bring the boy from that night back to you. I wanted to bring myself back to you.”
🎵 Do you feel the love?
Do you feel the love?🎵
Taehyung covered his mouth.
“I thought I lost you once. Never again.”
Jungkook took a breath. “Will you keep dancing with me… not just in memory… but in every tomorrow?”
Taehyung leaned in—forehead to forehead, eyes closed, hands trembling. “Yes… God, yes.”
They kissed.
Slow. Deep. Soft.
Everything that had never been said poured into that kiss.
Everything that had once been lost—found its way home.
Lights swirled.
Music played.
And somewhere in the background…
🎵 Do you feel the love? 🎵
But no—not anymore.
Because now, they were so much more.
"Now Kim taehyung, will you at least allow your husband for a night to_"
Taehyung cut him in between. " We are gonna do ok you don't need to voice it out. "
Jungkook laughed. "Then let's go home. "
.
.
.
The door clicked shut behind them with a soft thud.
Taehyung barely had time to blink before his back met the wall. Jungkook’s hand had reached behind him in one smooth motion, locking the door, the other curled tightly around Taehyung’s wrist as he pinned it gently against the wall.
Taehyung’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t even turned around yet, lost in thought from the garden, from the song, from the way Jungkook had looked at him under the lights like he was the only thing that mattered in the entire world.
“You’re thinking too much again,” Jungkook whispered, voice low, soft—but laced with something deeper.
Taehyung looked up, breathless, only to find Jungkook’s eyes already on him—dark, burning with quiet intensity, like he was memorizing him.
“I can see it,” Jungkook said, leaning closer. “That faraway look. Stop running in your head… and stay with me.”
Taehyung swallowed, his hands now resting on Jungkook’s chest as if to ground himself. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Jungkook's lips curved. “Good.”
He closed the distance—foreheads brushing, breath mingling in the silence of the hallway. Then he kissed him. Slow. Deliberate. His lips moved over Taehyung’s with aching care, like every press was saying what words couldn’t.
Taehyung responded, his hands tightening in the fabric of Jungkook’s shirt, pulling him closer until their bodies aligned. The kiss deepened, and so did the feeling. Not rushed. Not hungry. Just the kind of need that blooms quietly over time and bursts open all at once.
Jungkook trailed kisses along Taehyung’s jaw, down his neck, his voice muffled against his skin. " You still smell like the day of party. "
Taehyung smiled, heart fluttering. “You remembered.”
“I never forgot.”
Fingers laced, Jungkook gently tugged him toward the bedroom. No words were needed. The silence between them was warm now—not distant, but full. They moved together in a quiet rhythm—jackets falling to the floor, shoes kicked off in a trail of laughter and glances and soft touches.
When they reached the bed, Taehyung looked up, eyes wide and shimmering. “Are you sure?”
Jungkook reached to cup his face. “Only if you are.”
Taehyung nodded, and Jungkook kissed him again—this time deeper, like a promise.
They lay down, fully clothed, legs tangled. Jungkook hovered just above him, one hand behind Taehyung’s neck, thumb brushing the soft line of his jaw. Their bodies pressed together, perfectly aligned, heat rising in waves, but never rushing forward. Just savoring.
Taehyung’s shirt rode up slightly as Jungkook’s fingers explored the bare skin of his waist, light as a breath. He pressed kisses across Taehyung’s collarbone, his shoulder, his cheek.
“You feel like home,” Jungkook whispered, lips ghosting over Taehyung’s ear.
No more masks. No more distance.
They stayed tangled like that, under the sheets, skin brushing skin, heartbeats syncing. Clothes discarded. Just enough closeness to feel each other fully—emotionally, spiritually, physically. Making love to each other.
.
.
.
Taehyung lay on his side, fingers brushing the curve of Jungkook’s cheek.
“You always looked so strong,” he whispered, voice hushed by the night. “But now I know how much it took to survive.”
Jungkook turned toward him, their foreheads touching. “I was strong because I hoped one day you’d find me.”
Their hands found each other under the blanket—intertwining, anchoring.
Taehyung leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips. Not rushed, not stolen—just his.
“I love you,” Taehyung whispered into his skin. “And I’ll say it every day.”
Jungkook smiled, closing his eyes. “Then say it again.”
Taehyung leaned close. “I love you.”
A hum. “Again.”
“I love you.”
Jungkook exhaled like a prayer. “I love you too, Taehyung. I always did.”
He kissed his jaw taking taehyung's breath again.
They stayed like that, skin to skin, hearts resting after years of running. There was no rush now. No fear. Just soft breathing, tangled limbs, and the warmth of being finally, irrevocably… home.
“Don’t fall asleep,” Jungkook murmured, eyes heavy.
“Why not?” Taehyung asked, sleep already pulling at him.
“Because I’ll miss you.”
Taehyung smiled and kissed his nose.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Jungkook closed his eyes, one arm pulling Taehyung tighter against his chest.
And in the stillness of the room, with their bodies tucked close, breaths warm and steady, they fell asleep—
Finally home.
Finally safe.
And finally, forever.
Chapter 29: Epilogue
Chapter Text
After 2 months:
Perfection is just a word-but for some, it carries the weight of fear.
When you love someone from afar, when your heart beats in silence, perfection feels like a punishment.
Even if the world calls you beautiful, brilliant, enough-
You still search for that one gaze,
the only one that matters.
And when it doesn't come,
it breaks you in places no one sees.
And yet now...
Here he stood, trembling under the soft lights of the hall,
waiting at the end of the aisle-
as Taehyung walked toward him,
clothed in white, hair falling gently across his eyes,
lashes catching light like feathers.
Jungkook's heart gave in.
Tears slipped free, unbothered by the watching crowd.
He was finally living the moment he only dared to dream.
Taehyung reached for his hand and smiled.
That smile-the one Jungkook had memorized a hundred times in secret-
was now his to keep.
Warm fingertips brushed his cheek.
"Hey... don't cry now," Taehyung whispered, laughing softly.
Jungkook gave a breathy chuckle, wiping his eyes.
"I don't know... they just won't stop."
Taehyung blinked back his own emotions.
"I don't deserve you," he said, voice trembling.
"Don't say that," Jungkook whispered, squeezing his hand.
Their smiles met in the middle, gentle and real.
And then, the hall grew quiet as the priest stepped forward.
Words were spoken, vows exchanged.
Each sentence a promise, each glance a lifetime.
They slipped rings onto each other's fingers-
a perfect fit, as if destiny had measured them long ago.
"You may now kiss your husband," the priest declared.
Jungkook didn't wait.
He leaned forward, lips brushing Taehyung's in a kiss soft as snowfall.
The hall burst into applause, but they heard only the sound of each other's hearts.
Under soft lights and softer smiles,
two souls who had waited far too long
finally found home.
Forever had begun.
"Jungkoookkk..." Taehyung slurred, stumbling into their bedroom, laughter bubbling up like a child caught in a secret. His steps were uneven, his smile too wide, and his cheeks carried the rosy glow of champagne and celebration.
Well, the after-party had clearly turned wild.
Jungkook leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching the scene unfold with a sigh and an affectionate smirk. "Mr. Husband... you are totally wasted."
Taehyung giggled, planting his palms on his face dramatically, then prying his fingers open to peek at him.
Jungkook blinked. "What is this cuteness?"
"You said husband," Taehyung whispered like it was a confession. "Mr. Jeon..."
Jungkook chuckled, taking a slow step forward. "Yeah, because you are, Taehyung."
Taehyung gasped, eyes wide like he just heard the word for the first time. "Oh? We're... married?"
Before Jungkook could reply, Taehyung turned and ran in circles around the room, laughing freely.
"Now this is dangerous, my love," Jungkook warned, smiling, his voice low and teasing.
"Catch me, Kookie!" Taehyung shouted, darting through the room like a breeze made of laughter and mischief.
Jungkook chased after him, but Taehyung stumbled-his hand catching the nightstand for balance. A small box on top teetered, then fell open on the floor with a soft clink, spilling its contents like a heart cracking open.
Taehyung blinked down. Pictures. Trinkets. A keychain.
Jungkook froze. His smile dropped.
No-no, not this. Not that box. He always kept it tucked away, buried. Safe.
He rushed forward, kneeling beside the scattered memories, gathering them with a silent panic.
Taehyung crouched beside him, furrowing his brows. "Wait... is this... me?"
Jungkook didn't answer. He shut his eyes for a second, gripping the stack of photos. Why the hell did he leave it out-
Taehyung plucked one from his hand.
A photo of him at his desk-unaware. Another, sipping coffee in Jungkook's office. One more, blurry but unmistakably him, standing at a construction site, sunlight brushing his cheek.
He turned slowly to Jungkook, lips in a pout, gaze accusing.
"You jerk."
"Taehyung, it's not what it-"
"At least take good photos," Taehyung interrupted, pointing at a picture. "My eyes are closed in this one. Look at this-I look ridiculous."
Jungkook blinked.
Then he burst into laughter.
"You look like a cutie patootie in every single one. I was a hopeless romantic surviving on stolen glances."
Taehyung, in his drunk haze, melted. He reached out and grabbed Jungkook's cheeks gently. "Oh... my love. That's the saddest, sweetest thing."
And just when Jungkook thought it was over, Taehyung's hand reached for something else in the box. A small keychain. A bunny, worn from time.
Taehyung turned it in his fingers. "Wait... this? I have one too. The bear one. I found it on a bus once."
Jungkook's smile softened. "Because it was meant for you. It's a couple keychain."
"What?" Taehyung blinked.
"The one you have... it was always for you, my love." Jungkook stood, gently guiding Taehyung up, placing the lid on the box. "Now come on. Let's sleep."
In the quiet that followed, the two lay curled into each other, the glow of the bedside lamp painting the walls in gold. Jungkook held him close, steady, like he'd waited his whole life for this one moment to last forever.
Taehyung, head buried in Jungkook's chest, mumbled against his shirt. "Jungkook?"
"Hmm?"
"What if... someday I turn ugly?"
Jungkook looked down, brows furrowing. "What kind of question is that?"
"What if I grow old, and you don't think I'm beautiful anymore..."
Jungkook knew the alcohol was the trigger, but the words carried more. They were laced with the insecurities he never voiced.
He exhaled slowly.
"First," he said softly, "we'll grow old together. Second... you and 'not beautiful' can't exist in the same sentence."
Taehyung hesitated. "But-"
"No buts. You're tied to me, Kim Taehyung. Even if you try to run, I'll find you. I'll drag you back... and lock you up."
Taehyung blinked, lips parting.
Jungkook laughed. "Metaphorically. I'm not that crazy."
Taehyung giggled, face flushed, then leaned in and kissed the tip of Jungkook's nose.
Jungkook smiled. "God, you're cute when you're drunk."
He pressed a kiss to Taehyung's forehead, then wrapped his arms around him, pulling him even closer.
The room dimmed to silence, their breaths syncing in rhythm. Somewhere, a streetlight buzzed outside. But in here-there was only warmth. Familiarity. Love in its softest form.
Taehyung stirred in his sleep, groaning quietly as sunlight spilled through the half-closed curtains, landing like golden silk across the bed. His head throbbed with the weight of a night well spent, laughter and wine still echoing in his veins.
He sat up, ruffling his hair lazily.
From behind the bathroom door, he heard the soft hum of running water. Jungkook was already awake. Taehyung reached for the glass on the nightstand, but his hand stilled when his gaze landed on a familiar wooden box.
The lid was slightly open-its secrets no longer hidden.
A small smile curved on Taehyung's lips as he pulled the box into his lap. He thumbed through the pictures inside-blurry candid shots of himself at work, at the company site, sipping coffee with furrowed brows, lost in thought at Jungkook's office. Imperfect little fragments of time, each one stolen lovingly from a distance.
"What a fool..." he whispered, not out of annoyance-but out of awe. "You're truly an idiot, Jeon Jungkook."
Beneath the stack of photos, something shiny caught his eye.
The bunny keychain. With a little T carved delicately at the back.
His breath caught in his throat.
He stood quickly, crossing the room to his side of the wardrobe, rummaging until he found what he was looking for-his own old keychain. The bear one. The one he found on a bus ride months ago.
He held them together. Bunny and bear. T and J. Two puzzle pieces that finally made sense.
Just then, the bathroom door opened, steam curling out like a dream, and Jungkook stepped out towel-drying his hair, his skin glowing from the heat, hair messy in the most perfect way.
"You're up already?" he asked, surprised.
Taehyung blinked, a little too focused. "You look... good after a shower," he deadpanned.
Jungkook smirked. "It's all yours, don't worry." He winked playfully.
"Eww," Taehyung muttered, holding up the keychains. "What's the story behind these?"
Jungkook walked over and took them into his hand, gently. He smiled softly, almost bashfully. "I bought them in school. One for me, one for you."
Taehyung's eyes widened with the realization-he remembered reading about it in Jungkook's journal. "So... this is what you wrote about."
He turned the bear keychain over.
"But... why does mine have J?"
Jungkook scratched the back of his neck, visibly flustered. "Well, you know... teenagers in love. I custom ordered them. I told the shopkeeper to carve J on the bear because... I thought if you ever found it, maybe you'd think of me. And for me, I kept the T-so I could carry you with me."
Taehyung stared at him-truly stared-and without a word, leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Jungkook's lips.
"You're way too cute for your own good," he whispered, cheeks warm.
Jungkook groaned playfully. "Now who's being cheesy?"
They both chuckled, laughter weaving between them like a quiet promise.
"So... you were on that bus that day?" Taehyung asked, voice low.
Jungkook nodded. "I was headed to the company. I dropped the gift and was heartbroken. But then-on the trip later-I saw you holding it. And I knew... destiny isn't just stories people make up. It was you. Always you."
"Truly," Taehyung breathed, wrapping his arms around Jungkook's neck, their foreheads touching, noses bumping. "It's always been us."
Jungkook smiled against his skin.
"Now go freshen up, Mr. Kim. Yoongi hyung invited us today. Don't be late."
Taehyung raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Jeon, you could've told me earlier-we could've saved water."
Jungkook's eyes twinkled. "You know... if you're this bold, I wouldn't mind a second shower."
Taehyung slapped his chest, laughing. "Select my outfit, you dork. I'm going to shower."
He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Jungkook behind with his grin and the warmth still lingering in the air.
Jungkook turned toward the mirror, ruffling his damp hair, but his eyes softened as they fell on the two little keychains resting side by side on the bed.
Bunny and bear. T and J.
Some stories are loud and chaotic.
Others are quiet and slow.
Theirs? It unfolded like a sunrise-
a little late, a little hazy-
but full of gold.
In a world that often rushed to the end,
Taehyung and Jungkook took the scenic route-
and somehow, it led them home.
WildeBeauTae on Chapter 1 Thu 04 Sep 2025 08:55AM UTC
Comment Actions
Tiavina on Chapter 1 Sat 11 Oct 2025 09:44AM UTC
Comment Actions
Minab3ll on Chapter 1 Sat 11 Oct 2025 12:45PM UTC
Comment Actions
Gosia (Guest) on Chapter 1 Wed 29 Oct 2025 10:08AM UTC
Comment Actions
taek00kbabies on Chapter 11 Wed 01 Oct 2025 07:43PM UTC
Comment Actions
taek00kbabies on Chapter 13 Wed 01 Oct 2025 08:03PM UTC
Comment Actions
taek00kbabies on Chapter 21 Wed 01 Oct 2025 09:20PM UTC
Comment Actions
NoorMou on Chapter 29 Sun 31 Aug 2025 01:59PM UTC
Last Edited Sun 31 Aug 2025 02:00PM UTC
Comment Actions
WildeBeauTae on Chapter 29 Thu 04 Sep 2025 08:53AM UTC
Comment Actions
Minab3ll on Chapter 29 Thu 04 Sep 2025 10:10AM UTC
Comment Actions
forgive_me_taekook on Chapter 29 Mon 15 Sep 2025 07:24AM UTC
Comment Actions
Minab3ll on Chapter 29 Mon 15 Sep 2025 09:19AM UTC
Comment Actions
taek00kbabies on Chapter 29 Wed 01 Oct 2025 10:03PM UTC
Comment Actions