31
Third person pov
The morning light filtered weakly through the curtains, stabbing at his throbbing head. Taehyung groaned and dragged himself upright, freezing the moment his arm brushed empty sheets. Jungkook was gone.
The ache in his throat burned sharper than the headache. He lifted trembling fingers, pressing gingerly. Too sore.
A strangled sound caught in his chest as fragments of last night clawed their way through the fog....the sharpness in Jungkook’s voice, the way he had obeyed, the roughness.
His chest tightened, and vision blurred. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing back the sting, but hot, angry tears slipped free anyway. From fury.
He moved almost mechanically, each step heavy, weighed down by what lingered inside him. In the bathroom, he splashed cold water across his face once, twice, thrice trying to scrub the memory away. His throat burned with each swallow, a cruel reminder of every wordless command, every helpless gasp.
“Hell,” he muttered, voice rough, trembling with rage. Pressing his palm harder against his throat, he hissed through gritted teeth, “Where the hell did he go?”
Roughly wiping his face, blinking at the sting, he met his reflection. Disheveled hair, swollen lips, red eyes… someone ruined stared back. Someone who looked like they had been torn apart from the inside out.
Turning sharply, Taehyung stepped out of the b3droom feet dragging across the floor. His hand rubbed his throat instinctively, each touch reigniting the pain. Exhaustion tugged at him, pulling him down until he collided with a firm chest.
He froze, jaw clenching. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know who it was. Words at the tip of his tongue, sharp and venomous, hovered but when he finally looked up, his anger faltered.
It wasn’t Jungkook.
Kim Seokjin stood there, barely an inch away, sharp eyes scanning Taehyung’s disheveled state.
Taehyung’s lips parted, but nothing came out. His throat burned too much, his breathing was ragged, and for a moment, all he could do was stare back, the fury in him trembling on the edge of collapse.
Seokjin’s gaze softened slightly, catching the tremor in Taehyung’s steps, the redness around his swollen lips, the way his hand kept rubbing at his throat. Concern edged into suspicion as he tilted his head, studying him.
“Taehyung…” Seokjin’s voice was calm, deliberate, and heavy with something that made Taehyung freeze.
Angry tears threatened again. He tried to step back, to put space between them before Seokjin could speak, but the movement was stopped. Seokjin’s hand shot out, gripping his wrist firmly, anchoring him in place.
Seokjin’s eyes narrowed, lingering on faint bruises, the way his voice had broken earlier, the slight wince as he swallowed. “Who did this? Jungkook?” His tone dropped, low and cold.
Taehyung’s stomach twisted. He wanted to pull free, brush it off, lie. But when he finally forced the words out, his voice cracked. “It’s… nothing. Let me go.”
Seokjin leaned closer, eyes scanning Taehyung’s face as if trying to read every unspoken word. “Tell me what happened,” he said, his tone firm, almost commanding.
Taehyung tore his gaze away, lashes wet, anger smoldering behind his eyes even as his body trembled. He wanted to scream, to curse Jungkook aloud.... but his throat felt raw, heavy, uncooperative.
He whispered hoarsely, “I… told you, it’s nothing. Just… leave it.”
Seokjin didn’t budge. His grip on Taehyung’s wrist tightened, his voice sharper. “Nothing doesn’t make you look like this, Taehyung.”
Taehyung’s chest heaved, lashes trembling, and he tried to look away.
“Speak up,” Seokjin snapped, leaning closer until Taehyung’s back nearly pressed against the wall.
Taehyung’s eyes widened, stung by the sharpness in Seokjin’s tone. His throat bobbed painfully as guilt and shame twisted through him like knives, leaving him frozen, unable to speak.
“I—” His voice cracked. Teeth digging into his lower lip to hold back the words, but Seokjin’s unrelenting stare shattered the fragile wall he’d built. “We… we were drunk.”
The confession hung heavy in the silence, suffocating. Seokjin’s expression darkened, breath shallow, eyes searching Taehyung’s for some explanation, some piece that could make sense of the mess.
“what...?” he murmured, voice tight, scanning every inch of him.
Taehyung’s chest heaved, lashes damp with angry tears. He twisted his wrist against Seokjin’s hold, finally forcing the words out. “I—I was drunk,” he spat, voice breaking under shame and fury alike.
Seokjin’s gaze dropped, and then he saw it...the faint purplish mark blossoming on the soft skin of Taehyung’s neck.
Without letting go of his wrist, Seokjin’s hand dragged down to Taehyung’s waist, pulling him closer until their bodies nearly collided. Taehyung gasped, eyes widening at the sudden proximity.
“Do you know what this does to me?” Seokjin’s voice was rough, trembling with something raw and dangerous. His eyes flickered between the mark and the confusion clouding Taehyung’s face.
Taehyung’s brows furrowed in confusion, lips parting, unsure how to respond. "What do you mean?"
A bitter chuckle escaped Seokjin, void of humor. His fingers dug into Taehyung’s waist not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him of the grip. Taehyung gripped those hands trying to prey them off.
“Of course you wouldn’t know,” he hissed, eyes dark with a mix of desire and resentment. “You’re too busy serving your… contractual husband.”
Taehyung’s mouth parted, body stiffening in disbelief. His mind blanked for a moment confusion swirling like a storm but soon something sharper surged inside him. He pushed Seokjin.
Hands clenched, teeth gritted, he looked up at Seokjin with eyes no longer trembling, but blazing.
“How could you say that?” he spat, voice hoarse, breaking as angry tears spilled freely. He shoved against Seokjin’s chest with all his strength, heart hammering. “How dare you think that about me?”
His voice cracked, but the fury only intensified, heat burning his cheeks, shame crawling down his spine.
A harsh, bitter laugh tore from him, raw and almost unhinged. “And now you stand here, spitting your bullsht? Don’t you dare act like you weren’t part of this mess from the very start.”
His body trembled, breaths ragged. “So go ahead judge me. Call me disgusting. But don’t forget... it was you. You tied the rope and threw me in. And now you’re shocked that I’m drowning?!”
Seokjin watched silently, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes dark and holding a dangerous calm. He didn't mind Taehyung's loud voice or his anger because somewhere he knew he deserved it.
Taehyung wiped at his tears with a sharp swipe, salt burning his skin, voice cracking with rage.
“And why does it affect you so much?!” he snapped, tone biting, almost trembling. “Whether I-I do anything with your brother or not.... why does it matter to you?!” He stepped forward, shoulders squared, eyes narrowing into daggers. “Why does it bother you if I kiss him, huh?”
Another step. Harsh breaths rattled his chest, rising and falling unevenly.
“Why does it bother you if I sleep with him?” His words hissed like venom through clenched teeth. “Why does it matter when he—”
Seokjin’s hand clamped around his waist, firm, unyielding. Taehyung froze. Their faces were inches apart, close enough to feel each other’s breath.
“Not another word,” Seokjin said flatly, voice low and commanding, eyes burning into him.
The unfinished words hung between them like a blade. Taehyung stared back, chest heaving, eyes glossy but defiant.
“Why…?” he breathed, a whisper loaded more with accusation than question.
Seokjin’s jaw tightened, his expression neutral. He said nothing.
“Yeah, of course you wouldn’t have an answer,” Taehyung spat, bitter laughter cutting through the tension. He twisted against Seokjin’s grip, stumbling back to put space between them. His face contorted in anger, voice sharper with every word.
“All you do is watch. Stay silent. Protect him. Clean up his mess. That’s what you’re good at, isn’t it?
” His tone cracked, venom dripping from years of bottled fury.
“If only I hadn’t signed those goddamn papers, if only I hadn’t been dragged into this filthy contract…
my life would’ve been different. Me and my son.
.. we’d have been managed and better off without either of you! ”
His voice rose, trembling on the edge of a scream. “You both you and your brother... are a curse to my life.”
Hands trembling at his sides, breaths sharp and ragged, he let the words hang in the heavy air. Silence fell between them, thick and suffocating, each word lingering like poison neither could escape.
Taehyung’s voice dripped with venom, each word flung like a dagger.
“You’re no one to judge me, Mr. Kim. Not you. So don’t pretend like you care. if you hadn’t chained me to it..none of this would’ve happened.” His chest heaved, fury twisting his features, eyes glassy with unshed rage.
The words hit hard. For the first time, Seokjin didn’t stand like an immovable wall. His composure cracked, fists trembling at his sides. Silence pressed down, suffocating, until his voice finally broke through...low, raw, and trembling.
“I wasn’t in love with you back then.”
Taehyung froze. Breath caught. The words made no sense. He turned sharply, brows drawn, anger ready to lash until he saw Seokjin’s face. The untouchable, unshakable man before him now looked… human. Vulnerable. Unraveled.
Seokjin took a tentative step forward, voice breaking into jagged edges.
“It’s my fault. I told myself it was just business, that you were convenient, a pawn I could move to fix things.
I thought I was in control. But the truth is…
” His jaw clenched, eyes flicking away before finding Taehyung again, raw and unguarded.
“I’ve been lying. To myself. To you. To everyone. ”
Taehyung’s heart hammered against his ribs. His lips parted, but no words came.
Seokjin’s breath hitched, each step closer dragging weight into the air.
“I told myself I didn’t care. That you were just a contract.
But every day, every time I saw you.... your gentleness, your smile, your strength, I realized I was already in too deep.
And now…” His voice trembled, faltering, his mask completely shattered
“I can’t see you with him. I can’t watch you with someone else. Because—” His throat worked, lips trembling as the words clawed themselves out, ragged, raw, impossible to hold back.
“Because I love you, Taehyung.”
The world stopped.
It wasn’t just a confession. It was a seismic explosion, a weight that pressed into Taehyung’s chest and left him breathless.
Rage, fury, all the fire that had been scorching him moments ago dissolved into something colder, sharper fear, disbelief, a terrifying clarity.
His knees weakened, vision narrowing as he stared at the man before him, unblinking, heart hammering against his ribs.
Director Kim the untouchable, the composed, the perfect, unflinching man looked human. Vulnerable. Almost trembling. Each breath shaky, words torn from the depths of his chest.
Taehyung’s lips parted. A broken whisper escaped before he could even process it.
“Y-you… what…?”
Seokjin didn’t flinch, didn’t retract. He stepped closer, every motion deliberate, every breath catching in a way that left the air around them electric. His eyes burned into Taehyung’s, every ounce of restraint gone, leaving only raw, unfiltered truth.
“I love you.”
The words weren’t just said, they landed, struck, carved into Taehyung’s chest. Silence swallowed the room, a heavy, suffocating stillness. Taehyung’s mind spun, every wall he had built, every anger, every resentment, crumbling into shards around him.
His world shattered not with sound, not with chaos but with the quiet, terrifying weight of truth.
Taehyung froze, still reeling from Seokjin’s confession.
Then without warning Seokjin’s hand shot out and clasped his.
His body stiffened, every nerve alert to the unexpected warmth against his palm. Eyes widening, disbelief flashed across his face.
“What the hell are you doing?” he hissed, trying to yank his hand away.
Seokjin didn’t answer. Without a word, he tugged Taehyung forward. The younger stumbled, resisting, but Seokjin’s grip was iron-like, unrelenting, as though years of restraint had finally snapped.
“Seokjin-ssi, let go!” Taehyung snapped, wriggling, voice laced with fury and confusion. “Have you completely lost your mind?!”
Still, Seokjin remained silent. His quiet was heavier than any argument, more commanding than any order. Step by step, he dragged Taehyung down the long hallway. The polished floors echoed under their feet.
Guards near the exit stirred, eyes widening, but at the recognition of Director Kim’s authority, they shifted aside without a word.
The cool air hit Taehyung’s face the moment the mansion doors swung open, heart hammering in panic.
“Binnie will look for me!” he hissed, voice cracking. “Do you hear me?!”
Seokjin didn’t spare him a reply. His silence pressed down like a weight. The younger’s protests fell flat as he was dragged, every step unyielding, every motion deliberate.
Seokjin opened a car door and practically ushered Taehyung inside.
“Sit.” His tone left no room for argument.
Taehyung glared, chest heaving, but eventually sank into the seat.
Seokjin bent slightly, gaze sharp, almost pleading.
“Don’t step out,” he demanded, voice firm but trembling at the edges.
Then, without another word, he walked around to the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel. The tension between them was suffocating, thick enough that Taehyung felt it pressing against his ribs, the air charged with everything left unsaid.
His head throbbed too many thoughts colliding, too many voices, too many feelings clawing for space. He blinked rapidly, staring blankly out the windshield, unable to process that Seokjin of all people had just confessed.
The soft click of the car door shutting snapped him back, but before he could find words, Seokjin leaned across the narrow space. His presence was so close it made Taehyung stiffen, breath hitching involuntarily.
He tried to shift back against the seat, shoulders pressing into the cool leather, but Seokjin’s arm brushed past... not to touch, but to firmly tug the seatbelt across his body. The metallic click of the buckle locking echoed, almost louder than the chaos in Taehyung’s head.
“Where are you taking me?” Taehyung demanded, voice lower this time, almost afraid of the answer.
Seokjin twisted the key; the engine roared to life. Without hesitation, he shifted gears and guided the car out of the wide, stony driveway. His tone was clipped, sharp, leaving no room for argument.
“Somewhere quiet,” he said, eyes flicking to the road, never meeting Taehyung’s confused gaze. “You need it.”
Taehyung twisted slightly in his seat, glancing back at the shrinking mansion, the guards standing stiffly but unmoving. His chest tightened, pulse hammering.
“Mr. Kim…” he whispered, voice trembling. But Seokjin’s expression remained carved from stone. The silence between them pressed heavier than anything Taehyung had felt all night.
The drive stretched on in suffocating silence, the kind that pressed against Taehyung’s chest, making every breath a struggle. His fingers fidgeted in his lap, nails grazing his skin as he stole hesitant glances at Seokjin.
Once just once Seokjin’s eyes flicked to meet his. The steel softened, melting into something warmer, deeper. Taehyung’s throat tightened, and he quickly looked away, pressing his forehead to the cool glass of the window, trying to steady the storm raging inside him.
He was so tired. His mind was a tangle of chaos, his heart heavier than his body could bear. Slowly, inevitably, his lashes fluttered shut, exhaustion dragging him under.
Seokjin’s eyes drifted to the side again. His knuckles whitened around the steering wheel.
The sight of Taehyung, head resting against the window, lips slightly parted in sleep, hair framing his face like a fragile painting.... was too much. He swallowed hard, forcing his gaze back to the road.
There was something devastating about seeing him like this unguarded, vulnerable...that made it impossible to look away. His beauty wasn’t loud; it was quiet, piercing, the kind that seeped under your skin and refused to leave.
Seokjin’s jaw flexed as he muttered under his breath, barely audible, “You drive me insane, Taehyung.”
Seokjin stopped the car, the engine ticking as it cooled. Taehyung, who had been staring blankly out the window, finally let his gaze wander.
Cliffs dropped sharply into the city below, buildings glinting faintly in the early morning light. A thin mist clung to the edges, softening the harsh outlines and making the world feel distant, unreal.
Seokjin stepped out first, deliberate, measured. Hands in his coat pockets, his presence commanded even in silence. When he reached the car, he didn’t speak immediately. He opened the door, the small metallic click echoing louder than expected in the morning stillness.
“Come out,” he said, calm but firm, leaving no room for argument.
Taehyung hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek. His eyes darted to the cliffside, then the car, then back at Seokjin. His fingers flexed against his thighs, uncertainty coiling inside him like a tight spring.
Slowly, he moved, stepping out into the cold. The air hit like a slap, sharp and awakening, making him shiver. Instinctively, he hugged his arms around himself. The chill bit at his skin but somehow cleared the fog of his racing thoughts.
Seokjin’s eyes never left him. He waited, silent, letting Taehyung feel the vastness of the cliff, the space around them, the quiet magnitude, and the tension building with every second.
Taehyung’s breath came in shallow puffs. The city below seemed impossibly far, the wind tugging at his hair, at the loose strands of his clothes. He felt exposed, but in a way that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable the kind of exposure that made him acutely aware of his own heart, of his own chaos.
Seokjin stepped closer. The faint scent of him reached Taehyung.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Seokjin murmured finally, voice low, almost a whisper. “Just… stay here.”
Taehyung’s hands clenched and unclenched.
He wanted to argue, to turn away, to retreat but the weight in Seokjin’s gaze rooted him to the spot.
The wind swirled around them, carrying the distant hum of the city far below, leaving only the cliff, the cold, and the unspoken tension stretching taut between them.
Seeing Taehyung shiver, Seokjin stepped closer. He removed his coat and draped it over Taehyung’s shoulders. The younger stiffened slightly but muttered a quiet, “Th… thank you,” wrapping it around himself more out of instinct than comfort.
“It feels… good,” he added, eyes fixed on the city below, avoiding Seokjin’s gaze.
Seokjin’s eyes, however, never left him. They lingered, searching, heavy with unspoken emotion. Taehyung felt his stomach twist, unease crawling under his skin.
He quickly averted his eyes, the raw weight of Seokjin’s confession still echoing in his mind, the older man’s intensity pressing against the edges of his thoughts.
“You… you don’t expect a reply, do you?” Taehyung asked softly, fidgeting with the edge of the coat, unsure.
“That’s not why I confessed,” Seokjin said, calm, measured. “I just had to let it out.”
Shock rooted Taehyung to the spot. He had no idea how to respond. The certainty in Seokjin’s voice, the unshakable confidence behind the words, left him feeling exposed, awkward, and completely unprepared.
They leaned against the car, the city sprawling endlessly below, the wind tugging at the coat. Taehyung’s mind looped over the confession again and again, the weight of it pressing in, the fact that Seokjin Director Kim had just admitted he was in love with him.
He swallowed hard, glancing briefly at Seokjin, then quickly looked away, as if avoiding his gaze could undo the vulnerability in the air.
“You… aren’t afraid of Mr. Jeon?” he asked slowly, voice low, hesitant.
Seokjin let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. As if the thought itself amused him.
“I’m older than him,” he said, calm but firm. “I know exactly how far he can go.”
The words hung between them, simple yet powerful, carrying both reassurance and quiet authority. Taehyung felt a strange mix of relief and tension coil in his chest, the silence afterward heavy but not uncomfortable.
Taehyung nodded, swallowing hard, the weight of the cliffside air and Seokjin’s confession pressing on him. After a pause, he admitted, “I… I want to get out of that contract.”
Seokjin’s gaze sharpened slightly, studying him. “That’s what I’m working on,” he said. “I’ve already spoken with a few lawyers, checked all the loopholes, all the possibilities.”
Taehyung’s heart skipped a beat. “Y–you’re doing that… for me?” His voice cracked, disbelief and a glimmer of hope mingling together.
Seokjin hummed softly in acknowledgment, steady and unpretentious. There was no arrogance, no display of authority... just quiet, unwavering determination.
The tension in Taehyung’s chest loosened slightly, a weight he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying lifting bit by bit. He let the breeze brush over him, glanced down at the city below, and for the first time in what felt like forever, allowed himself a flicker of relief.
“thank you,” he murmured, almost to himself, unsure whether to glance at Seokjin or keep his gaze fixed on the horizon.
Seokjin’s eyes softened for the briefest moment, and Taehyung felt the subtle warmth of that unspoken support.
He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond but just knowing that someone.
..someone like Seokjin...was actually working to free him from the nightmare of that contract made his chest feel lighter, almost unbearably so.
A long silence stretched between them, the city sprawling endlessly below, the wind tugging at Taehyung’s hair and coat. Yet despite the serene view, his mind raced. He had to ask.
He swallowed, forcing the words out. “I… I don’t understand,” he murmured, voice low and uneven. “After… everything you confessed… what do you expect from me?”
Seokjin’s gaze didn’t waver. Slowly, deliberately, he extended a hand toward Taehyung’s waist. Taehyung stiffened instinctively, stepping back, but Seokjin’s other hand caught the hem of his coat, holding him in place.
“Relax,” Seokjin said softly, sliding the lighter and cigarette from that coat pocket with casual precision. His calm, controlled presence slowly eased the tension in Taehyung’s shoulders, letting him breathe a little easier.
Seokjin flicked the lighter, the flame dancing in the wind, and brought the cigarette to his lips. He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke curl into the morning air. Exhaling slowly, he spoke, voice quiet, almost unreadable.
“Nothing,” he said. “I expect… nothing from you.”
Taehyung’s breath caught. Relief and confusion tangled inside him, leaving his thoughts scattered, uncertain.
But Seokjin wasn’t finished. His voice dropped lower, deliberate and controlled, yet edged with a tension that made Taehyung’s pulse skip.
“But,” he continued, dragging the word out, letting it linger, “if you ever start expecting something from me… I’d do more than just nothing.”
Taehyung froze, every muscle in his body taut.
More than that? The implications twisted in his head, unsettling and undeniable.
He dared not look away, even as the heat in his cheeks betrayed him.
Seokjin’s gaze drilled into him, quiet but overwhelming, almost suffocating, as if he could see every unspoken thought, every flicker of fear or curiosity Taehyung tried to hide.
The younger swallowed hard. His throat felt parched, words sticking like stones. “I… I…” he started, then stopped. No sentence could form that wouldn’t sound foolish, weak, or hopelessly naive.
“Do you understand?” Seokjin’s voice dropped low, intimate, though not a shred of softness crept in. “If you start expecting… anything… from me… it won’t be small. It won’t be simple. You’ll regret it if you let yourself want more.”
Taehyung’s mind spun. He wanted to step back, to flee... but some invisible tether held him fast. His eyes darted to the city below, to the endless horizon, to anything other than the man whose words cut deeper than any physical blow.
“I—I don’t…” Taehyung stammered, jaw tight, voice faltering. “I… I can’t… I—”
Seokjin’s lips twitched, almost imperceptibly, a ghost of a smile. He leaned in just slightly, enough that Taehyung could feel the heat radiating off him.
“Good,” Seokjin murmured, low, dangerous. “You can’t. That’s exactly why… I will.”
Taehyung didn’t say anything else. He just stood there, arms crossed, jaw tight, trying to steady the storm in his chest. The cold air bit at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of embarrassment and anger that still lingered from the mansion.
“I… I apologize,” he muttered finally, voice low, strained.
Seokjin hummed, the sound soft, unassuming, but somehow it carried weight. He didn’t step closer, didn’t say a word immediately.... he just let Taehyung’s confession hang in the air, letting the wind carry the tension between them.
“I… I lashed out at you,” Taehyung whispered, almost to himself, gaze fixed on the horizon. “I was… frustrated.”
Seokjin listened quietly, cigarette in hand, the smoke curling upward and dissolving into the morning sky. He kept a comfortable distance, giving Taehyung space.
Taehyung breathed. He didn’t realize how much he needed this.... needed someone who would just stand there and listen, without judgment or intrusion, letting him unravel at his own pace. The silence was too much, too relieving, too heavy all at once.
No advice, no orders, just a presence that seemed to say: I hear you. And that’s enough for now.
Taehyung’s gaze dropped to the ground, the wind tugging at his hair, tugging at his thoughts. For once, he allowed himself to breathe without pretending, without plotting an escape, without the usual armor he wore.
And as the city lay sprawling below, indifferent to the confessions and frustrations atop this cliff, Taehyung felt the edges of his tension slowly loosen, the silence settling around him like a fragile, welcome shield.