40
Third Person Pov
Taehyung sat hunched on the cold metal chair, his head bowed low, cuffs digging into his wrists.
His knuckles were white from how hard he clenched his fists, the faint rattle of the chain the only sound escaping him.
The stark light above flickered, harsh against his tear-stained face.
He hadn’t said a word since they brought him in too shaken, too hollow to even think clearly.
“What’s your name?” one of the officers asked again, his tone sharper this time, more demanding.
Taehyung bit his lip until it stung. For a long moment, he didn’t move. Finally, his voice slipped out, hoarse. “Taehyung.”
“Full name.”
He swallowed hard. “Kim… Taehyung.”
The officer jotted it down, then looked up. “You killed a man, Taehyung.”
Taehyung’s head snapped up, his eyes red, burning. His voice cracked but carried weight. “No. I saved a girl.”
The officers exchanged looks, skeptical, unyielding.
“Doesn’t change the fact,” another officer cut in. “You spilled blood. That’s still a crime.”
Taehyung let out a shaky breath, his gaze falling to the table. His chest tightened as though the cuffs weren’t only on his wrists but wrapped around his heart.
“Who’s in your family?”
Taehyung froze. His breathing faltered. For a moment, his silence was answer enough. And then the image of Gyubin flashed across his mind his little boy must be waiting for him at home right now. Waiting with those innocent eyes, clutching the bag of caps Jungkook had given him.
His throat closed. His hands twitched in the cuffs. After a long silence, his lips parted, voice raw. “My… my son. Seven years old. Kim Gyubin.”
Pens paused. The officer blinked. “Anyone else? Parents?”
Taehyung’s jaw clenched, the words bitter as they left him. “They’re gone.”
“And wife?”
The question made his entire body go rigid. His chest rose sharply, his breath catching. He stayed silent, fighting the weight of the word.
“Well?” the officer pressed.
Taehyung’s lips trembled. His lashes lowered, hiding the tears pooling there. Finally, he forced it out, barely above a whisper..... "Husband.”
The room stilled. Chairs creaked as officers shifted, all eyes on him now.
“Husband’s name.”
Taehyung shut his eyes tight. His voice shook when he spoke. “J-Jeon… Jeon Jungkook.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
The officers froze, eyes widening. One leaned closer, almost disbelieving. “You’re saying… CEO Jeon of Jeon Corporations?”
Taehyung gave a faint nod, his lips pale.
“What the hell…” another muttered.
“He’s lying,” someone whispered, though their tone lacked conviction.
The head officer’s jaw tightened. He hid his unease behind clipped authority. “Call Jeon Jungkook’s secretary. Now.”
One officer rushed out.
Taehyung sat motionless, cuffs rattling faintly as his hands shook. His chest heaved with uneven breaths. The thought slammed into him like a blade if Jungkook found out he was here, like this… he wouldn’t forgive. He wouldn’t spare him.
And Taehyung knew it.
.
.
Half an hour passed in heavy silence. The officers shifted in their seats, waiting. Taehyung sat frozen, and then His ears caught it first, the sharp, steady rhythm of approaching footsteps in the hallway. Each strike against the floor echoed like a warning.
The door creaked open.
The air in the room shifted instantly. Authority, menace, presence... it all walked in with Jeon Jungkook. His strides were casual, but every step carried weight. His eyes skimmed the officers briefly before zeroing in on Taehyung, whose head remained bowed.
Taehyung’s breath caught. He turned slightly, trying to rise to his feet, only to be pressed back down by an officer’s firm hand.
Jungkook’s gaze dropped to that hand. His voice was low, sharp, almost dangerous.
“Take your hands off him.” It wasn’t a request. It was a warning.
The officer instantly pulled his hand back, his face paling. Jungkook pulled out the chair beside Taehyung and sat down, his posture effortlessly commanding.
Taehyung’s lips trembled as he glanced at him, the weight of his presence making his chest tighten.
“Mr. Jeon,” one officer began nervously, “you were called here to discuss something urgent.”
“Go on,” Jungkook said smoothly, leaning back in the chair. His eyes flicked to Taehyung for the briefest second, catching the overwhelmed look etched on his face, then returned to the officers.
The head officer cleared his throat. “Kim Taehyung—”
“Jeon,” Jungkook cut in, his tone sharp enough to draw blood. “He is Jeon.”
The correction made the officer falter, a nervous twitch pulling at his lips before he continued cautiously, “Jeon Taehyung killed someone. He admitted it.”
Jungkook tilted his head, lazy but , as though weighing the words in his mouth. Then, in a voice disturbingly casual, he asked, “And?”
The room stilled. Taehyung’s eyes lifted, shock flickering across his face. The officers exchanged glances, restless, unsure if they had heard him right.
Jungkook leaned back in his chair, long legs stretching out, his posture relaxed but radiating power. “He acted in self-defense,” he said smoothly, like reciting a fact everyone should already know. “That man had a weapon. He went after a child. He infact saved her.”
The officers shifted, their confidence unraveling under the precision of his words.
“And if you’re worried about the man’s death…” Jungkook’s lips curved into a smirk, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, he didn’t die from that knife. He was alive when my men checked in the hospital.”
He let the pause stretch, heavy, before lowering his voice.
“I had to kill him myself.”
Taehyung froze beside him, his breath caught, horror widening his eyes.
Jungkook leaned forward at last, resting one arm on the table. His gaze pinned the officers in place, sharp and unyielding.
“So… what will it be?” He flicked his fingers lazily toward Taehyung. “Arrest him?” His smirk deepened, voice rich with dark amusement. “Or try cuffing me?”
The silence was suffocating.
Jungkook’s tone dropped, velvet laced with steel. “Careful with your choice. Because If you lay a hand on him, you answer to me. And I promise you, none of you are built for that.”
The officers swallowed hard, their throats working nervously.
Finally, one of them stammered, “Uh… would you like some coffee, Mr. Jeon?”
Taehyung blinked, bewildered. What the hell—
Jungkook glanced down at his watch, “No.” he murmured, dragging his eyes back to the trembling officer.
The heavy door swung open again, and this time Jungkook’s lawyer walked in. Impeccably dressed, carrying two sleek black briefcases. He greeted the room with a stiff nod, then placed the cases on the table in front of the officers.
Jungkook's fingers grazed the paper weight, legs spread, while his other arm draped lazily across the back of Taehyung’s chair.
His gaze followed the lawyer, sharp and unblinking.
The first case clicked open. Taehyung’s brows knitted together when stacks upon stacks of cash came into view. The second case opened.... more money, bundled so tightly it looked unreal.
Taehyung’s throat went dry. His wrists still cuffed, his body still trembling, yet here he was… watching millions of won tossed onto a desk like spare change.
“That should be enough,” the lawyer said smoothly, sliding a set of crisp papers toward the officers. “You’ll sign here. This stays buried. No media. No follow-up interrogation.”
The officers exchanged uneasy glances, shifting in their seats, but when their eyes flicked to Jungkook stoic, deadly calm, his stare practically burning through them.... they faltered. The head officer swallowed hard, reaching for the pen.
“Alright,” he said quietly. “We’ll… end this here.”
Jungkook hummed, satisfied, the sound low and final like the closing of a coffin lid.
Beside him, Taehyung’s chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the money, from the way this man.. the same man who had used him mercilessly could so effortlessly erase a crime.
“I didn’t kill him,” Taehyung whispered under his breath, almost to himself. His lips trembled “I didn’t… kill him.”
Taehyung sat there, shoulders trembling as relief finally washed over him. His lips parted in a shaky whisper.... almost a prayer. He hadn’t killed that man. He wasn’t a murderer.
The thought alone loosened the suffocating weight around his chest. For the first time since the blade pierced skin, he exhaled without feeling like he was drowning.
He wasn't tagged a murderer anymore. That did a lot to relieve him.
But the truth was far crueler than Taehyung’s fragile hope.
But the moment he did, the moment he saw Taehyung’s shoulders sag with relief, something inside him stilled.
Taehyung believed it. Believed he hadn’t killed anyone.
And Jungkook just sat there, silent, letting him hold onto that fragile peace.
Only he knew the truth. But he kept it buried, because for some reason… he couldn’t stand the thought of those wide, trembling eyes drowning in that kind of fear.
But one thing was certain: Taehyung would never know.
The deal was done. Papers signed, briefcases snapped shut, the matter swept under the rug like it had never existed.
Jungkook rose from his seat, the scrape of the chair loud in the suffocating silence. Without hesitation, he reached down and gripped Taehyung’s arm, pulling him up from the chair.
Taehyung didn’t resist...he couldn’t. His legs felt weak, his body too drained to fight back. He just allowed himself to be pulled, his wide eyes briefly meeting Jungkook’s cold profile.
One of the officers instinctively stepped back when Jungkook's eyes fell on him.
The shift in the room was immediate.
Jungkook stopped, his grip tightening on Taehyung’s wrist. His eyes cut to the officer like a blade sliding across flesh.
He took a step closer, dragging Taehyung with him as if to prove a point, and his voice dropped low... sharp, lethal, leaving no room for misunderstanding.
“Touch him again,” Jungkook said, each word slow, deliberate, venom curling around them, “and you won’t have hands left to touch anyone.”
The officer froze, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. His hand retreated instantly, his head bowing in stiff submission. “Y-Yes, Mr. Jeon.”
Satisfied, Jungkook didn’t spare him another glance. He turned back, his hold firm as he pulled Taehyung with him, guiding him out of the suffocating room.
The officers stood rooted, wide-eyed, still replaying that warning in their heads the kind of warning that didn’t sound like a threat, but a promise.
And Taehyung, though silent, felt his heart hammering in his chest. Not because of the officers. Not because of the crime. But because of the man whose grip refused to let him go.
.
.
The lawyer shook hands with Jungkook outside, the briefcases still clutched under his arm, before getting into the waiting car and driving off.
Jungkook opened the door for Taehyung, who slid inside silently, still trembling.
Jungkook went to the driver’s seat, and the car pulled onto the road, the engine’s hum filling the heavy silence.
Taehyung’s lips quivered as his gaze fell on his hands scratched, raw, the faint stain of blood clinging stubbornly. A lone tear slid down his cheek, falling onto his palms. He hissed, rubbing at it roughly, desperate to erase what he had done.
He wanted comfort, some words that might tell him it would all be okay. He wanted reassurance that he wasn’t weak for breaking, that even he had limits.
Minutes passed. The car glided forward, the world outside a blur. Taehyung’s voice broke the silence, barely audible.
“Stop the car… please,” he murmured.
Jungkook’s head tilted slightly, eyes sharp, scanning him from the corner of his vision.
“Please,” Taehyung repeated, quieter, almost a whisper to himself, but trembling with raw need.
Jungkook’s hand moved slowly, pressing the brake. The car rolled to a stop.
Taehyung didn’t wait. His hand shot to the door handle, opening it, and he stepped out onto the empty road.
The chill of the evening air bit at his skin, but he barely noticed.
He drew a shaky breath, pressing his palms to his face, trying to scrub away the memory of blood.
Tears fell freely now, streaking his cheeks.
Jungkook’s gaze followed him, calm but unrelenting. Without a word, he unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out, the sound of his shoes on asphalt heavy in the quiet. Taehyung’s eyes flicked to him, panic and irritation flashing, but he made no move to step back... too consumed by his own turmoil.
“Leave me alone for a while,” Taehyung snapped, voice breaking, fists clenching at his sides.
Jungkook’s expression remained calm He stepped closer cutting off the space Taehyung tried to carve.
“Sit back in the car,” Jungkook said, calm, low, commanding.
Taehyung’s glare sharpened, but his body betrayed him, trembling with exhaustion and relief all at once. The road stretched behind him, empty, silent yet the presence of this man, this cold, infuriating man, pressed in on him from all sides.
Taehyung clenched his jaw, fists tight, feeling the weight of the day, the night, and the blood on his hands. And he couldn't hold it anymore.
His knees threatened to buckle before he could even think. A sob tore itself from his chest, shaking him from the inside out.
“My life… my life was better when I was struggling,” he whispered, voice ragged, almost a growl. “At least then… at least then I had control over my fear. At least I knew how to survive without… without living every day in terror of a man who doesn’t feel a thing.”
He stepped forward, trembling hands clenched into fists, and looked up at Jungkook. His eyes were wide, glistening, burning with everything he had bottled up for so long.
He longed to pin every fault on Jungkook, every blame on him... to cast off the weight of it all and feel unshackled. He needed to let it out every ounce of anger, every sharp sting of contempt and make sure Jungkook heard just how deeply he despised him.
“You… you’re not a man,” he spat, words sharp and raw. “You’re a curse. You ruined me. You ruined my life from my body, to my soul… everything I am… everything I-I was trying to be...you just…” His voice cracked, his lips quivering, but he didn’t stop.
Jungkook watched him break... slowly... ever so slowly.
“You made me… scared… of myself, of the world, of… everything. You—” he choked, swallowed hard, trying to breathe through the anger, the shame, the absolute exhaustion of it all. “You ruined everything I tried to protect.
Taehyung’s body shook violently as he stepped closer, grabbing Jungkook by the collar, forcing their faces inches apart eyes blazing with tears.
“Sexual favors… is that all I am to you? That’s why you… married me?!” His teeth gritted, voice harsh and raw, echoing with every ounce of despair he felt. “You made me feel worthless… disposable… and now you’re here standing like nothing happened?”
He let go, shoving Jungkook with every ounce of frustration and hurt. Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening, but he did not move.
"You’re—” he swallowed against the lump in his throat—“a monster. You ruined my life! And for what? So you could feel power–powerful? So you could… have your sick fun?”
“Why… why do you make me feel like I’m nothing?” he whispered, voice cracking again. “Why… why can’t I just… just be safe? Just be me? Just live my life without fear of… of you, of anyone?” His words were almost unintelligible now, soaked in raw emotion.
Jungkook's jaw clenched as he stood unmoving. Taehyung didn’t even notice. He didn’t care if someone was there, if someone saw him break. He just needed… he didn’t know. Air? Space? Maybe the right to just crumble.
He wiped his tears roughly with the back of his hand, trembling, shoving at his face as if he could erase the shame, the terror, the helplessness.
“Don’t follow me,” he muttered, voice low, stripped of emotion. His face was ablank, eyes hollow, lifeless.
Across from him, the CEO watched in silence as Taehyung’s tears slid down his cheek... fragile, shimmering, falling one after another like pearls breaking from a torn string.
He did not respond, just savored the sight of fragile beauty unraveling before him, the quiet tragedy of Taehyung breaking apart in real time.
And then Taehyung started walking, shoulders slumped, letting the night air wash over him.
Jungkook's gaze followed him, letting the distance grow. He didn’t call him back. He didn’t reach out. He simply observed, as if giving Taehyung the space he demanded.
Taehyung disappeared into the shadows of the empty road, and for the first time that night, he felt a mix of exhaustion, relief, and bitterness swirl together. The city around him was quiet, but the weight of Jungkook’s presence lingered long after he was gone.
☆☆☆☆
Taehyung’s footsteps were uneven as he walked, eyes fixed on the darkening sky.
"My fking husband," he muttered under his breath, voice bitter and low. "a curse of my life." He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung, twisting inside him like a knife.
A sudden bark made him freeze. His heart jumped into his throat, and he swung around.
A dog its fur matted, drool dripping from its jaws, eyes wild and unnatural locked onto him.
Taehyung’s chest tightened. He stumbled back instinctively, grabbing a stick from the roadside, raising it like a shield.
“Leave me alone.” he hissed, voice trembling despite his attempt to sound strong.
The dog barked again, louder this time, lunging forward.
Taehyung’s foot caught on the uneven pavement, and he tumbled backward, scraping his hands as he hit the ground. Panic clawed at his chest, each breath sharp and shallow.
Then—a gunshot cracked through the air, echoing off the nearby buildings.
The dog yelped at the loud noise, recoiling, and vanished into the shadows, tail tucked between its legs. Taehyung’s body sagged in relief, trembling as he pressed his palms against the asphalt, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart.
Headlights cut through the dusk like twin eyes, low and menacing. A black Mercedes rolled slowly toward him, the glare blinding.
Jungkook’s hand rested casually on the open window, gun still in grip, but his movements were deliberate, controlled.
The car crept closer, and instinctively, Taehyung began crawling backward.
The headlights narrowed on him. There was no hesitation, no mercy in the way Jungkook watched him. Taehyung’s lips parted, teeth gritted, voice strained.
“Stop it.” he demanded, but the sound barely carried over the pounding of his own pulse.
“Still want to continue this or shall we go?” Jungkook’s voice cut through the night, calm but deadly, his eyes fixed on Taehyung. His head slightly peeked from the car window, as if gauging every reaction, every fear, every tremble.
Taehyung swallowed, chest rising and falling rapidly, adrenaline and exhaustion mingling in every muscle. He exhaled shakily, stubborn.
The car stopped. The door opened slowly, deliberately. Jungkook stepped out, gun still in hand but relaxed, movements fluid, like he owned every inch of space.
Taehyung’s body tensed, every nerve screaming. Jungkook closed the distance between them, each step measured, deliberate, suffocating.
Taehyung’s breath hitched. The night felt heavier now, the air sharp and metallic. His hands curled into fists at his sides.
“What… what do you want?” he managed, voice low, raw, trembling.
Jungkook stopped just a few feet away, eyes locked, unblinking, "I’m here to take you home.”. he said softly, almost casual.
The word home hit Taehyung like a punch. He froze, a part of him wanting to run, another part paralyzed by the weight of the man in front of him.
Jungkook didn’t give him time to react. In one fluid motion, he knelt before Taehyung, fingers sliding under his thighs, the other hand firm against his waist.
Taehyung’s body stiffened instantly, muscles locking, a shiver running down his spine at the intimate contact. Every nerve was alive, every heartbeat loud in his chest.
Before Taehyung could protest, Jungkook’s strength made itself known. He lifted him effortlessly, chest pressing against Taehyung’s side, arms holding him securely.
Taehyung’s hands instinctively gripped at Jungkook’s shoulders, but his resistance was half-hearted, trapped in a swirl of fear, frustration, and something he couldn’t name or maybe he didn't wabt to.
The walk to the car was a blur for Taehyung. He felt every step Jungkook took, every subtle sway of the man’s muscles, the heat of him pressed against his back, the weight of control that was both terrifying and intoxicating.
When the car door opened, Jungkook eased Taehyung inside, letting him slide into the seat before gently closing the door. Taehyung’s fingers fisted the leather.
Jungkook walked around to the driver’s side, opened it, and slid in with the ease of someone born to command.
“No more tantrums now,” he warned, voice low and dangerous, eyes flicking to Taehyung with a mix of amusement and control.
Taehyung didn’t respond. The engine roared to life, and the car glided forward into the darkening streets. Taehyung’s gaze was fixed outside the window.
☆☆☆
The car rolled to a stop in front of the house. Jungkook opened the door without a word. Taehyung stayed seated, stiff, hands clenched on his thighs. The moment he moved to stand, Jungkook knelt, slid his hands under Taehyung’s thighs and waist again, and lifted him effortlessly in a bridal style.
Taehyung’s head fell unconsciously against Jungkook’s chest, his heart raced. Every step Jungkook took felt heavy, as if announcing his control over every inch of Taehyung’s body.
The housekeeper appeared in the doorway, pausing as he took in the sight of the CEO carrying Taehyung.
“Gyubin slept waiting for you,” Mr. Haenam said gently. “Took his medicine and dozed off.”
Taehyung’s gaze, still distant, softened slightly at the mention of his son. A small, hesitant smile broke through his fatigue. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice barely audible.
Jungkook’s grip tightened slightly as he carried him up the stairs. Taehyung stiffened, realizing they weren’t heading to his room. He didn’t protest, though... a quiet surrender settling in his chest, heavy and tense.
When they reached Jungkook’s bedroom, the CEO didn’t pause. With a swift motion, he kicked the door open and stepped inside, closing it firmly behind them. Taehyung’s breath hitched as he was gently placed on the bed, scooting back instinctively, away from the man who straighetened up.
Jungkook walked to the bathroom and returned with a bowl of water, a towel, and a first-aid kit. He set them on the bedside table with quiet authority, his eyes fixed on Taehyung the entire time.
“Stay still,” he said firm the weight of command in his tone made Taehyung freeze.
Jungkook wet the towel, lifted Taehyung’s hoodie, and began to wipe away the blood and scratches from his arms.
Taehyung hissed involuntarily at the sting, but Jungkook didn’t flinch. He simply held the younger’s hand steady, his touch firm yet careful.
Then he guided the towel down, cleaning Taehyung’s knees, gently applying antiseptic to every scraped patch. Taehyung’s wide eyes tracked every movement, a mixture of unease, vulnerability, at the meticulous care Jungkook was giving him.
“Never go out without telling me,” Jungkook said, his tone calm but unyielding. He pressed a fresh towel to Taehyung’s face, erasing the remnants of tears with measured strokes.
The cloth moved slowly across his skin his forehead, then over the curve of his eyes, down his cheeks, and finally grazing along his neck. Each touch was controlled, leaving no trace behind.
Taehyung didn’t respond, only letting out a shaky breath, staring at the bowl, the towel, the careful hands that had just moments ago carried him like fragile porcelain and then cleaned him like a holy idol figurine.
Even in the quiet of the room, with only the faint rustle of towel against skin and the occasional hiss from Taehyung, the air between them was electric.. tense, intimate, and heavy with unspoken things. Jungkook didn’t rush, didn’t speak more than necessary.
He simply applied the ointment with a precision and intensity that left Taehyung’s mind spinning, his chest tightening with every careful motion.
By the time the first-aid was done, Taehyung’s arms and legs looked better, though his mind remained a storm. He kept his gaze on Jungkook, unsure if he was grateful, frightened, or utterly overwhelmed. The CEO, for his part, simply watched him settle back against the bed.
They stared at each other, the silence between them heavy, saturated with unspoken things. Taehyung’s lips trembled, and he licked them, swallowing hard as his gaze followed Jungkook’s every subtle movement.
The older then leaned slowly, his eyes never leaving him. Jungkook’s hand reached up, tilting Taehyung’s jaw gently, and the younger’s eyes fluttered closed.
He didn’t resist. Too tired.Too desperate for even a moment of relief from the chaos inside him.
“Let me kiss you.” Jungkook said, his voice low, intoxicating, a dangerous pull Taehyung couldn’t fight.
Taehyung’s soft hum was the only answer he could manage, and that small sound was enough to make Jungkook's lips curve... a cruel, possessive curl of lips that made Taehyung’s chest tighten.
Their lips met.
Taehyung yelped, small, and Jungkook pressed him closer. The older’s mouth was hot, commanding, claiming, sucking on Taehyung’s lower lip until he opened himself to Jungkook, letting the older’s tongue slide in, exploring, teasing, setting every nerve on fire.
Taehyung’s hands trembled, clutching at Jungkook’s shirt as though holding on would tether him to sanity. Jungkook’s hands slid down, wrapping around Taehyung’s waist, his touch firm, yet gentle.
Taehyung leaned back fully onto the bed, letting the CEO hover over him, every inch of him aware of the heat, the pressure, the weight of the older above him.
Cold air brushed against his exposed skin when Jungkook’s hand slipped inside his hoodie, tracing the line of his side. Taehyung whimpered softly, the contrast of cold and heat driving him wild, a tangled mixture of fear, arousal, and need.
His heart pounded against his ribs, but he welcomed it. He clung to the sensation, desperate for a distraction, even if it was dangerous, even if it was wrong.
Their kiss deepened, reckless and consuming, unmindful of breathing, of exhaustion, of anything beyond the taste of each other.
Jungkook’s teeth grazed Taehyung’s lip, eliciting a small moan that sounded like surrender, and the older’s hands tightened at his waist, marking him as his.
Taehyung’s fingers digged in the matteress, trembling as they rose and gripped at Jungkook’s shirt, pulling him closer, needing him.
A sharp bite to the lip, just enough to sting, made Taehyung gasp again, weak and overwhelmed. His exhaustion weighed on him, pressing him down, but it didn’t stop the fire coursing through him.
He tapped weakly against Jungkook’s shoulder, and the older finally pulled back just enough, foreheads resting together, breaths mingling, heavy and ragged.
“Sleep… sleepy,” Taehyung muttered, voice barely audible, a whisper of surrender.
Jungkook hummed, a low, approving sound, and slid to the side, letting Taehyung catch his breath. His lips parted slightly, quivering, as he pulled the comforter up over his chest, trembling with relief and residual tension.
He watched as Jungkook rose, stripping off his shirt with deliberate slowness, moving to the walk-in closet with the kind of casual authority that made Taehyung’s stomach twist.
Minutes passed, the room quiet except for the sound of soft breathing. Then warm hands slid over Taehyung’s waist, pulling him gently but firmly against a solid, safe heat.
Jungkook rested his head against Taehyung’s neck, and the younger felt something fragile yet grounding, a strange peace settling over him.
“You’re really a wildcat,” Jungkook murmured against Taehyung’s neck, his voice low and amused. “Running around, attacking people like that, yeah?” His smirk deepened, savoring the thrill. “Maybe I should put a leash on you.”
Taehyung shivered, a shaky breath escaping as he could feel the amusement in Jungkook’s tone. He didn't reply.
His fingers flexed, curling against the sheets as his mind tried to process the chaos of the day, the night, everything he’d endured.
But now, here, pressed against Jungkook, the fear and adrenaline of earlier battles, the panic, the shame, all of it faded into a dull hum.
He let himself breathe. He let himself rest.
Jungkook’s warmth, his steady presence, was enough to anchor him. Taehyung’s eyelids drooped, heavy and reluctant to stay open, and he let himself sink into the bed, fully, completely.
The world outside, the pain, the chaos, it didn’t exist for these moments. There was only this, the steady beat of Jungkook’s chest against him, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, the unspoken promise that, at least for now, he was not alone.
Finally, finally, exhaustion claimed him. His breaths grew slow, his body slack against the CEO, and the tension in his jaw eased.
Taehyung dozed off, fragile and unsteady, but for the first time in the day, feeling the faintest brush of safety, of solace, of being held...even if only in the dark.