55
Third Person POv
It was 27th of the month, Gyubin’s birthday.
The morning light streamed gently through the curtains, spilling warmth over the little apartment.
Taehyung had been up early, quietly moving around the living room so as not to wake his son.
A few pastel balloons floated by the wall, tied to a chair.
The small table was neatly set, a tray with his favorite breakfast waiting, a few wrapped gifts stacked on one side, and a simple white cake with “Happy 8th, Gyubin” written in blue frosting.
Taehyung looked around once more and smiled to himself. “Perfect,” he murmured.
Then he tiptoed toward the bedroom. The door creaked softly as he peeked inside.
Gyubin was still asleep, curled up on his side, hugging his soft bunny plush.
Taehyung’s heart melted. He knelt beside the bed and gently carressed his ch3eks. “Morning, birthday boy,” he whispered.
Gyubin stirred, a faint smile tugging at his lips before his eyes blinked open, still hazy with sleep. “Appa?” he murmured, voice small and raspy.
Taehyung grinned. “Mm-hm. Appa’s here. Guess what day it is?”
Gyubin blinked twice, thinking hard. “Saturday?” he guessed innocently.
Taehyung chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s your day, silly. Your birthday.”
“Oh…” Gyubin blinked again, as if the words were slowly sinking in. Then his lips parted in a small, shy smile. “I’m Eight now?”
“Eight and the most handsome boy in the world,” Taehyung said, pinching his cheek lightly.
Gyubin giggled softly, rubbing his eyes before sitting up. “Can I brush my teeth first?” he asked earnestly, already pushing the sheets aside.
Taehyung laughed quietly. “Of course."
The little boy slid off the bed, bare feet padding across the floor as he made his way to the bathroom. Taehyung watched, a fond smile tugging at his lips. There was something about Gyubin calm, careful, gentle that reminded him of soft rain after a storm.
A few minutes later, Gyubin returned, clothes slightly wet from splashing water. “Appa, I’m ready,” he said quietly, eyes bright with excitement.
Taehyung walked over, crouching down to his level. “Ready for your surprise?”
Gyubin nodded eagerly.
Taehyung held out his hand. “Then close your eyes.”
Gyubin obeyed, his small fingers slipping into his father’s palm. Taehyung led him out to the living room. The moment Gyubin opened his eyes, his mouth parted in awe... the balloons, the cake, the tiny pile of gifts.
“Appa…” he whispered, eyes glistening.
Taehyung smiled softly. “Happy birthday, my love.”
Gyubin’s lips curved into a shy smile as he looked around. “It’s so pretty,” he murmured. Then, almost in a whisper, “Thank you.”
Taehyung pulled him into a hug, resting his chin atop Gyubin’s head. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Gyubin held onto him tightly, his little hands gripping Taehyung’s shirt. His voice came out soft, muffled against his father’s stomach.
“You always take so much care of me,” he mumbled, words filled with that gentle innocence that always managed to undo Taehyung’s heart.
“You never celebrate your own birthday,” Gyubin continued, tilting his head up, his eyes clear and thoughtful. “But always remember mine.”
For a second, Taehyung’s throat tightened... forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s because your day is my favorite one, silly.”
Gyubin blinked at him, eyes round and glimmering in the morning light. Then he smiled...small, sincere. “I love you,” he said softly.
The words were so simple, yet they landed with weight, melting right through Taehyung’s chest. He smiled, eyes soft as he rubbed Gyubin’s back in slow circles. “I love you too,” he whispered back.
He didn’t say anything more; he didn’t trust his voice to hold steady if he did. Instead, he guided Gyubin toward the small table, the one he’d decorated earlier with balloons and ribbons.
“Come on, birthday boy,” Taehyung said gently, pulling out a chair. “Let’s see what your little gang of surprises looks like.”
Gyubin climbed into the chair obediently, swinging his legs slightly as Taehyung began opening the gifts one by one.
“Here’s the first one,” Taehyung said, passing him a soft, green dragon plushie. “He looks a little fierce, doesn’t he?”
Gyubin’s eyes lit up as he hugged it close to his chest. “He’s not fierce,” he said seriously. “He’s protecting me.”
Taehyung’s lips curved into a small, proud smile. “Then he’s exactly what you need.”
Next came a box of colored pencils and a thick sketchpad. Gyubin’s fingers traced the cover reverently, as if the smooth paper were something sacred. “Can I draw later, Appa?” he asked, looking up.
“Of course,” Taehyung replied.
Gyubin nodded, still smiling, setting the gifts neatly beside him like precious treasures.
The next few hours passed in quiet warmth.
Taehyung and Gyubin spent the day cocooned in their little world, sharing snacks, laughing softly at silly cartoon moments, and dozing off in between. Taehyung had tried to convince Gyubin to go out but the little one had felt too tired after his medicines.
So instead, they stayed home. The curtains swayed gently with the evening breeze, and the faint hum of the television filled the space. Gyubin sat curled up beside his father, a bowl of popcorn in his lap, eyes glued to the cartoon characters bouncing on screen.
By the time the clock struck seven, the soft orange light of sunset painted the room and then a sound.
The doorbell.
Taehyung frowned, his brows knitting slightly.
Who could that be at this hour?
He glanced at Gyubin, who looked up briefly before turning back to the screen, completely content. Setting the popcorn aside, Taehyung stood, smoothing down the creases of his shirt as he walked toward the door.
His steps slowed the closer he got. Something about the unexpected ring made him hesitant.
He twisted the knob and opened the door and the color drained from his face.
There, leaning lazily against the doorframe, was Jungkook.
The CEO looked effortlessly magnetic, dressed in a black shirt with his sleeves rolled up, tattoos curling over his forearms like art carved from confidence itself. His hair was slicked back, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips as if he already knew how disoriented Taehyung felt.
And behind him stood five men, each holding neatly wrapped presents stacked with care.
“Y–You…” Taehyung stammered, voice catching in his throat.
Jungkook straightened, stepping past the threshold without so much as waiting for permission. His eyes wandered briefly over the cozy living room, the cartoon still playing softly in the background.
The men followed silently, setting the pile of gifts near the couch before bowing politely and leaving.
Taehyung’s fingers twitched at his sides. His heart raced. “W–What are you doing here?” he managed, voice trembling despite his attempt to sound composed.
Jungkook’s smirk deepened, his tone smooth but laced with amusement.
“It’s my son’s birthday,” he said simply, as if the answer were obvious. “Where else would I be?”
Taehyung’s throat felt dry as his fingers curled slightly by his side.
He hadn’t expected him. But then Jeon Jungkook was always unpredictable.
Before he could even find words, a small shuffle drew both their attention.
Gyubin appeared from the hallway, wrapped in his favorite soft blanket. His tiny head peeked out from the fabric, eyes still a little sleepy from the warmth of the couch.
He blinked once… twice… and froze.
The moment his gaze landed on Jungkook, something in the air shifted. His calm face stilled completely, almost as if his mind couldn’t quite process what he was seeing.
Jungkook’s posture changed instantly. The arrogant ease in his stance faltered; the sharp lines around his face loosening into something fragile.
And that was when Gyubin’s small body tensed. The realization hit him, and he quickly looked down, clutching his blanket tighter around himself. Quietly, he shuffled closer to Taehyung and gripped the hem of his shirt with trembling fingers, refusing to look at Jungkook again.
Taehyung’s breath hitched at the sight. He placed a steady hand on Gyubin’s shoulder, his heart twisting. Of course Gyubin was still upset... hurt even.
“Binnie…” he whispered, voice soft, unsure whether he was trying to comfort his son or calm himself.
Jungkook’s lips curved faintly not with mockery this time. He took a few steps forward, the sound of his shoes against the floor unnervingly loud in the silence.
Gyubin’s grip on Taehyung’s shirt only tightened.
Then Jungkook stopped right in front of him and, without a word, reached out. His hand brushed against the boy’s arm.
Gyubin stiffened. He still wouldn’t look.
“Look at me,” Jungkook said, voice low firm.
The tone carried the same authority that filled boardrooms.
Gyubin hesitated, his small chest rising and falling. Slowly, his eyes flickered up at Taehyung for reassurance. When Taehyung gave a faint nod, he turned hesitant, shoulders drawn in toward Jungkook.
He didn’t speak, just stood there, head bowed slightly, fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of his blanket.
Jungkook stared down at him for a long second. Then, to Taehyung’s surprise—he knelt.
The CEO of one of the biggest companies in the country sank down to one knee in front of a Eight-year-old boy who wouldn’t even look him in the eye.
Gyubin blinked, startled, finally glancing at him properly.
The room fell into a stillness so sharp it could’ve sliced through air.
Taehyung’s hand, half-raised as if to intervene, froze midway. His breath lodged somewhere in his throat, chest tightening.
Jungkook’s fingers, still resting lightly on Gyubin’s arms, loosened just a little. For a heartbeat, the CEO looked almost human, his confidence faltering.
“Happy birthday, little man,” Jungkook had said, the words smooth but quiet, lacking the arrogance that usually filled his voice.
Gyubin had only nodded, polite and small. “Thank you,” he murmured, then glanced at the pile of beautifully wrapped gifts near the table before looking back at Jungkook.
“I feel like someone’s mad at me,” Jungkook said, forcing a small smirk to lighten the air.
But Gyubin didn’t laugh. His voice came barely above a whisper. “You… you let us go.”
He paused, lowering his gaze to the floor, his little fingers twisting the edge of his blanket. “I–I thought you liked us.”
Something in Jungkook’s chest shifted. The faint smirk faded, his jaw tightening.
Gyubin hesitated before his next words so painfully honest they made Taehyung’s stomach knot. “I thought you liked my… my Appa but you let him go too.”
The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating.
Taehyung’s eyes widened. He couldn’t look up, he didn’t want to. Heat crept up his neck, shame and confusion swirling inside him like a storm. He clenched his hands into fists to stop them from trembling.
Jungkook’s gaze slowly lifted to him, and for a long moment, neither of them said a word.
Taehyung could feel it... that same dangerous pull he despised. He hated how those eyes still found him, how they stripped him bare without saying anything at all.
“Binnie” Taehyung finally murmured, voice tight. “That’s enough.”
“Sorry, Appa,” Gyubin muttered, voice small, guilt coloring every word.
Taehyung sighed softly, his expression softening for his son even as his eyes flicked toward Jungkook who hadn’t moved an inch. The CEO just stood there, his gaze fixed on the boy.
“Thank you for the presents, Mr. Jeon,” Gyubin added politely, his tone calm and careful.
Jungkook didn’t reply. He simply slipped his hands into his pockets and rose.His eyes lingered on the child, tracing his features in silence.
Gyubin hesitated, glancing at his father, then back at Jungkook. His little fingers fidgeted at his sides before he finally took a hesitant step forward and then another until he was standing right in front of him.
Taehyung opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Gyubin reached out and wrapped his small arms around Jungkook.
The CEO froze, his entire body going rigid as he stared down at the boy pressed against him. For a long, unbroken moment, neither of them said anything.
“Binnie missed you,” Gyubin said quietly, his voice muffled against Jungkook. Then he tilted his head up, eyes earnest and full of warmth. “A lot.”
Something flickered in Jungkook’s expression a quick, almost imperceptible flash of emotion that softened the sharpness in his eyes. He raised a hand and patted the boy’s back awkwardly, as if unsure what to do with the fragile affection he was being given.
“I’m here to take you somewhere,” Jungkook said finally.
Taehyung’s brows drew together immediately, his voice sharp. “What do you mean, take him somewhere?”
But Jungkook didn’t answer. He only looked up, meeting Taehyung’s eyes across the room... calm, confident, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Just a small surprise,” Jungkook said smoothly, pausing just long enough for the tension to rise before adding, “And… you’re coming too.”
Taehyunh swallowed hard and looked away from those steady, dark eyes. Jungkook never asked... he declared. It was something about him, that quiet authority that made refusal feel pointless.
“He took his meds a few hours back,” Taehyung finally said, tone clipped. “He needs rest.”
“I won’t tire him,” Jungkook replied simply, his voice calm but unbending.
Taehyung exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening as his eyes flicked toward Gyubin, who stood there watching silently, the faintest trace of hope glimmering on his face. The boy’s fingers curled around the hem of his shirt as if waiting for permission.
“Alright,” Taehyung said at last, his voice quiet.
The moment the word left his mouth, Gyubin’s eyes lit up, a bright, wide smile spreading across his face. That smile alone was enough to make Taehyung’s heart melt.
Jungkook, meanwhile, turned on his heel without another word and made himself comfortable on the couch. He leaned back, manspreading, his tattooed forearm resting casually along the backrest.
“Get ready,” he said simply, as if the apartment belonged to him.
Taehyung shot him a glare... one that could have sliced through steel but Jungkook didn’t even bother looking up. His composure was infuriating.
Without another word, Taehyung took Gyubin’s small hand and led him toward the bedroom. As the door closed behind them, he exhaled, long and quiet. He told himself to stay calm, to remember this wasn’t about Jungkook, it was about about his son.
Still, as he glanced down at his son’s excited face, he couldn’t help but think: Why does that man always walk into our lives like he belongs here?
Taehyung emerged from the room a few minutes later, buttoning the cuffs of his dark green shirt.
It fit him perfectly just snug enough at the shoulders, neatly tucked into his black trousers that framed his long legs effortlessly.
His hair was parted softly, and even though he hadn’t dressed for attention, the look carried a quiet, dangerous grace.
Gyubin followed beside him, small hand clutching his father’s, wrapped in a soft hoodie and loose pants that made him look even smaller, the perfect picture of innocence beside Taehyung’s calm composure.
Jungkook, who had been lounging on the couch scrolling through his phone, looked up at the sound of footsteps. His phone lowered slightly. His gaze locked onto Taehyung and didn’t move.
For a few seconds, silence filled the room.
Jungkook’s eyes swept down, slow and deliberate from the crisp collar of that forest-green shirt to the narrow waist, the trousers that fitted like a second skin, and then back up again.
His tongue grazed the inside of his cheek as a faint, knowing smirk tugged at his lips.
Taehyung could feel it that stare burning through him, that same irritating awareness crawling over his skin. He cleared his throat, pretending to fix Gyubin’s hoodie just to break the tension. “Let’s— let’s go,” he said, his voice a little too quick, too forced, betraying his discomfort.
Jungkook rose to his feet, tucking his phone into his pocket.
Taehyung ignored him, holding Gyubin’s hand tightly as they stepped toward the door. Jungkook followed at an unhurried pace, his gaze shamelessly trailing down the younger’s back. The smooth line of Taehyung’s spine, the way the shirt pulled just right when he moved, it drew his eyes like a magnet.
A faint glint of playfulness flickered in Jungkook’s eyes as the corner of his lips curved upward.
Some things never change, he mused silently like that damn ass.
His gaze trailed over Taehyung, who walked ahead, pretending not to notice but far too stiff to be unaware of the heat burning into his back.
.
.
.
The car rolled to a stop on a quiet, unlit road. Not a single lamp flickered in the distance only the low hum of the engine breaking the silence. Taehyung frowned slightly, glancing at Jungkook as the latter killed the ignition and stepped out without a word.
From the back seat, Gyubin’s small face peeked forward with a bright smile, earning one in return from his father.
Gyubin hopped out, instantly taking Jungkook’s hand without hesitation. Taehyung followed, buttoning his shirt cuffs as he walked toward them, confusion flickering in his eyes.
The night was pitch black.
And then Jungkook turned his head slightly, meeting Taehyung’s gaze sharp eyes gleaming with a hint of mystery.
In the next heartbeat, the world exploded into light.
A collective breath of wonder filled the air as the darkness peeled away like a curtain. Thousands of lights burst to life, cascading down from towering wisteria trees that arched above them like something out of a dream.
Their leaves shimmered in hues of violet and silver, glowing as if kissed by starlight. The air smelled faintly of vanilla and jasmine, a soft instrumental melody drifting in from hidden speakers.
Taehyung’s lips parted. His chest tightened. For a moment, he forgot how to blink.
Gyubin gasped... a sound pure and full of joy as he took a step forward. “Appa!” he exclaimed, eyes wide as galaxies.
Everywhere he looked, there was magic: a miniature carousel turning slowly, its horses carved from crystal; cartoon characters dressed in pastel suits bowing and waving at him; a giant fountain in the center spraying glittering mist that turned into tiny glowing stars midair.
The ground beneath them shimmered faintly, like they were standing on a sky full of constellations instead of pavement.
Taehyung stumbled a step forward, breath catching in his throat as he spotted flowers shaped like stars, real, breathing blossoms that glowed in rhythm with the lights above.
“This can’t be real…” he whispered, almost afraid that speaking too loud would break the illusion.
Jungkook leaned against the sleek black car, hands tucked in his pockets, watching the two of them under the golden light.
The huge cake gleamed at the center of the setup... five tiers, frosted in white and silver, surrounded by plates of delicate desserts and warm food. Balloons shaped like stars floated around, and written in light above the garden arch were the words:
“Happy Birthday, Gyubin.”
Taehyung froze.
And Jungkook, the cold CEO, the man who once couldn’t care less about anything that didn’t profit him stood there quietly, watching their reactions, eyes fixed on the small boy whose laughter now echoed through the glowing garden.
It wasn’t just a surprise. It was something no one could’ve imagined Jeon Jungkook doing.
The cartoon characters swarmed around Gyubin, clapping their plush hands and cheering in exaggerated voices, their colors glowing softly under the wisteria lights. Gyubin giggled, his small face lit up with joy as he waved at them, too happy to decide whom to hug first.
Taehyung’s gaze lingered on his son his little boy whose laughter felt like sunlight and then drifted toward the man standing a few steps away. Jungkook.
The CEO’s eyes were already on him. Still. Intense. It was as if the chaos of lights and laughter didn’t exist between them just that steady stare.
Taehyung looked away immediately, fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Jungkook straightened, his voice breaking the moment.
“Let’s cut the cake,” he said simply, tone flat but carrying a quiet command that made even the costumed characters nod in unison.
“Yahhooo!” they cheered, spinning around Gyubin as Taehyung’s lips curved into an involuntary smile.
“Appa! Look!” Gyubin pointed excitedly toward the flowerbed. “Star-shaped flowers!”
Taehyung followed his finger, and his breath hitched. The blooms glowed faintly, leaves shimmering like liquid light, soft pulses moving through them as if they were alive, breathing. “They’re beautiful,” he whispered.
Gyubin ran to the cake table, eyes sparkling. He reached for the knife, eager but clumsy.
“Make a wish first,” Taehyung reminded softly, his tone tender.
Gyubin pressed his palms together, eyes shut tight, lips moving silently before blowing out the candles in one breath. The crowd of animated characters burst into a cheerful song, clapping and dancing around him.
“Happy Birthday to youuuu!”
Taehyung laughed quietly, warmth blooming in his chest. Gyubin cut the cake and, without hesitation, turned to feed the first piece to his father.
Taehyung leaned down with a fond smile, taking a bite before feeding him back, his heart swelling with affection.
Then, shyly, Gyubin turned toward Jungkook.
The boy hesitated, clutching the small plate nervously as he approached the CEO, eyes flicking up once and then down again. “For you…” he murmured, holding out the cake with both hands.
Jungkook looked down at him expression blank at first that same stoic air surrounding him. And then, slowly, he bent down.
His hand brushed Gyubin’s as he took the cake, and with a flicker of softness in his eyes, he fed the boy a small bite instead.
Gyubin smiled... wide, pure, almost trembling with happiness.
Music rose again, lively and playful. The cartoon characters began to dance in circles, lights shifting from white to a dreamlike violet hue.
Jungkook walked back to the side and pulled a chair, sitting down with one leg crossed over the other, his eyes never straying far from the two figures before him, the boy who laughed like he belonged to another world, and the man who avoided his gaze.
Gyubin sat on the carousel, small hands clutching the golden pole as the ride turned slowly under the canopy of wisteria lights.
The cartoon characters rode beside him, waving and clapping, their oversized heads bobbing with every turn.
His laughter echoed in the quiet night..
. soft, melodic, filling the air with something that felt too precious to disturb.
Taehyung stood a few feet away, arms folded, eyes never leaving his son. When Gyubin spotted him, he waved enthusiastically, his grin wide enough to make Taehyung’s chest ache in the best way.
Taehyung smiled back, a gentle curve of his lips, his heart full. For the first time in so long, Gyubin looked like a normal kid. Just pure joy.
Time blurred. The hour passed in soft laughter and warm air. There was food, music, and Gyubin’s favorite sweets everything done to perfection. The characters kept him entertained, mimicking his dance moves, making him giggle until his eyes watered.
It was perfect. Too perfect.
A birthday for a boy who had no friends, yet believed in stars believed they watched over him, glowing for him when no one else could.
Everywhere he looked, lights shimmered like stardust around the trees, on the grass, reflecting in Gyubin’s eyes. And for Taehyung, nothing in the world could’ve meant more than that single sight: his son happy and laughing.
As the evening deepened, Gyubin’s energy began to wane. He sat down with the same characters who had danced with him earlier, still smiling faintly as he talked to them. His words grew slower, softer... until he simply slumped against one of them, asleep mid-sentence.
Taehyung’s smile faltered into tenderness. He walked toward the group, bowing slightly.
“Thank you for taking care of my son,” he said, voice quiet but full of gratitude.
The characters bowed back politely, their oversized heads dipping in perfect sync.
Taehyung bent slightly, ready to lift Gyubin into his arms but before he could, a shadow moved beside him.
Jungkook.
The CEO knelt silently, his black shirt sleeves rolled up, veins taut against the fabric as he slipped one arm beneath the boy’s knees, the other around his back. Without saying a word, he lifted Gyubin gentle yet sure, as if holding something fragile that he wasn’t sure he deserved to touch.
Taehyung froze for a second, his hands hanging in mid-air. He swallowed, his gaze tracing the lines of Jungkook’s profile, the faint strain in his jaw, the way he looked down at the boy in his arms.
Jungkook didn’t meet his eyes. He simply turned and began walking toward the car, Gyubin’s small head resting against his chest, a faint smile still lingering on his sleeping face.
The night air wrapped around them, cool and quiet, carrying only the soft rustle of wisteria leaves falling behind them.
Taehyung followed slowly, almost hesitantly watching Jungkook’s back illuminated by the faint glow of the garden lights.
It felt surreal. Unreal. And somewhere deep down, painfully magnetic.
.
.
.
Taehyung softly closed the door to Gyubin’s room, careful not to wake him. The moment he turned around, his breath hitched... a startled gasp escaped his lips.
Jungkook was standing right there.
The CEO’s posture was effortless yet commanding, eyes gleaming with quiet intensity under the dim hall light. He looked far too composed, far too out of place in this small, cozy home like a storm in still air.
Taehyung’s heart stuttered. He had truly believed Jungkook would leave after dropping them off. But no... this man didn’t look like someone who left when expected.
“Get me a glass of water,” Jungkook said flatly, his tone low, unhurried, but laced with the kind of authority that made Taehyung move without question.
“Y-yes…” Taehyung muttered, lowering his gaze as he brushed past him, feeling the CEO’s presence trail behind like static.
He filled a glass from the kitchen sink, his hands trembling slightly. When he turned, Jungkook was already there leaning against the counter, watching him.
Taehyung extended the glass. Jungkook’s fingers brushed his as he took it, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
“I hope it’s not poisoned,” he murmured before taking a slow sip.
Taehyung swallowed hard, eyes darting away. “I need to… talk to you about something.”
Jungkook didn’t reply only looked at him, silent, waiting.
“It’s about Gyubin’s admission,” Taehyung continued, voice small but steady. “Since you’re his… his registered father, the school requires your presence. Otherwise they won’t process it.”
Jungkook arched a brow, setting the glass down with a soft click.
“Why would I help someone who once tried to kill me?” he asked, tone deceptively light, amusement flickering behind his words.
Taehyung’s throat tightened. He drew in a shaky breath. “Not me…” he said quietly. “But your son. You’d be helping your son.”
Jungkook tilted his head slightly, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “Is that so?”
Something in his voice made Taehyung’s stomach twist, not out of fear, but something far more dangerous. He nodded.
Jungkook took a slow step closer, his gaze never leaving Taehyung’s face. “If he’s my son,” he said softly, almost a whisper now, “then what are you?”
Taehyung froze, his heart pounding so loudly it hurt. “I-I… no one,” he managed to say.
A low chuckle slipped past Jungkook’s lips. “I don’t help no ones.”
He turned to leave, but before he could take another step, Taehyung’s hand instinctively reached out, fingers curling around Jungkook’s wrist.
The CEO stopped. His gaze dropped to the hold, then slowly lifted to meet Taehyung’s eyes. That single look made Taehyung’s breath falter, his fingers loosen but he didn’t pull away.
“I-I’m your… spouse,” Taehyung whispered, his voice breaking somewhere between desperation and disbelief.
For a fleeting second, the air between them stilled unreal, heavy, electric.
The CEO smirked then, almost imperceptibly. “Yeah?” he murmured, voice silky, dangerous. “Then act like one.”
Taehyung frowned hearing that but his eyes caught it... and they widened.
Jungkook’s fingers brushed over the cool steel of the knife resting on the counter. He picked it up slowly, his movements calm, too calm. The faint glint of metal caught the light as he turned it between his fingers, his expression unreadable.
Taehyung’s back hit the counter, the hard edge digging into his spine. His breath hitched as Jungkook began walking toward him unhurried, predatory.
“What are you—” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
The question died on his lips when Jungkook stopped right in front of him, so close that Taehyung could feel the faint warmth radiating from his body.
Without warning, Jungkook pressed the knife’s tip against his waist. The cold blade bit into the thin fabric of Taehyung’s shirt, making him flinch.
“Ah—” Taehyung winced, his eyes darting down to the spot where the knife met his skin. “don’t—”
But before he could move, Jungkook caught both of his wrists and forced them behind his back, his grip unyielding. The sudden closeness made Taehyung’s breath stutter.
“Poisoning me, planning behind my back...” Jungkook murmured, his tone almost conversational, though his eyes burned with restrained fury. “You really thought I’d let someone go after betrayal?”
Taehyung blinked rapidly, struggling to form words as the knife pressed in a little deeper. The coldness seeped through his shirt, grazing his skin.
“I-I didn’t—” His voice cracked as a soft gasp escaped his throat.
Jungkook tilted his head, studying him like a puzzle he couldn’t decide whether to solve or destroy. He leaned forward until his lips brushed Taehyung’s ear, voice dropping to a low whisper that made the hair on the back of Taehyung’s neck stand.
“Yeah? I believe you.” he said sarcastically.
Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut, his pulse racing. “l-leave me.”
The plea barely left his mouth before Jungkook shifted closer, pressing himself fully against Taehyung until there was no space left between them. The knife’s edge dragged slowly across his side, the faint scrape against fabric making Taehyung tremble.
“I’ll give you what you want,” Jungkook said finally, his tone calm but laced with something dark. His breath fanned against Taehyung’s cheek as he spoke.
Taehyung’s eyes shot open, confusion flickering through them.
Jungkook’s smirk deepened, and he let the blade slide lazily along Taehyung’s shirt, tracing an invisible line across his abdomen. “If you give me what I want,” he murmured, eyes flicking up to meet Taehyung’s.
Taehyung swallowed hard, his voice shaky. “W-What do you want?”
For a moment, Jungkook didn’t answer. He just watched him, eyes lingering on the way Taehyung trembled, his lashes damp, his lips parted as he tried to catch his breath. Then Jungkook leaned in even closer, his words barely a whisper.
“Have sex with me. Right now.”
The words left Jungkook’s lips like a command.
Taehyung froze, the color draining from his face as his breath hitched. For a second, he thought he’d misheard. But Jungkook’s gaze didn’t waver... cold, intent, and terrifyingly serious.
Huh...?