57
Third Person Pov
Morning spilled softly through the sheer curtains, painting the living room in pale gold. Taehyung's lashes fluttered as his senses stirred... warmth pressed against his back, a slow, steady rhythm of heartbeats pulsing beneath him.
He blinked, confused, his brows furrowing slightly before realization struck him like a slow wave. His breath hitched.
He wasn't in his room.
He was sprawled across the CEO's lap Jungkook's lap, his head against the man's chest, their bodies tangled on the couch. Jungkook sat slouched back, legs lazily propped on the coffee table, one arm looped firmly around Taehyung's waist, the other resting heavy over the thigh.
Taehyung froze. The memory of last night crashed through him... Jungkook's mouth, his voice, the way he whispered against his skin. His stomach twisted, embarrassment and something darker knotting inside.
He swallowed and shifted carefully, trying to slip away, but Jungkook's arm flexed unconsciously, pulling him back closer. His chest rose and fell in deep, even breaths, the faintest crease on his brow disappearing as Taehyung stilled again.
He held me like this all night...
Taehyung's gaze drifted down Jungkook's arm, and his breath faltered. The skin was red and tense, faint marks where muscle had locked tight from holding him too long. Veins traced the skin, visible beneath the light... thick, pronounced, running down to his wrist.
Without thinking, Taehyung reached out and brushed his fingers over them. Jungkook's skin was warm, almost hot and the contact sent a tremor up Taehyung's arm.
He hesitated, eyes catching on a small flash of red.
A bead bracelet. His bracelet.
Taehyung blinked rapidly, his chest tightening. He recognized the tiny scuff on one of the beads, the one he'd worn every day until it disappeared months ago. It sat now on Jungkook's wrist, snug against his skin.
He traced it with a trembling fingertip, barely breathing. Why is it... on him?
Jungkook stirred faintly, his jaw flexing, and Taehyung pulled back instantly. His pulse hammered. His lips parted, wanting to say something, anything but no words came.
Instead, he studied Jungkook's face, the faint stubble on his jaw, the soft rise of his chest, the sharp line of his throat.
Taehyung let out a shaky exhale and carefully adjusted the older man's posture, placing a cushion beneath his head. Jungkook didn't wake, only sighed softly and Taehyung's throat went dry.
Why is he so difficult to understand...
He straightened up and took a step back, rubbing his palms together as if to erase the sensation of Jungkook's warmth from his skin. His eyes lingered one last time on that bracelet, that silent proof of something he couldn't name, before he turned away.
The house was still. His footsteps were soundless as he made his way to the bedroom.
His son was still fast asleep, small fingers curled around the edge of the blanket. Taehyung glanced at the clock 6:00 a.m. and sighed, lowering himself onto the bed beside the little one.
He wrapped his arm around the child, pulling him close, his mind still tangled with the image of Jungkook's red-marked arm and that damn bracelet gleaming faintly in the morning light.
He closed his eyes. But sleep refused to come.
.
.
.
Two hours later, sunlight streamed through the curtains, falling across the bed in soft golden patches.
Gyubin's lashes fluttered as he stirred, his small hand brushing against something warm and solid. He blinked sleepily and found himself wrapped tightly in his appa's arms.
"Appa..." he whispered, his voice still laced with drowsiness.
Taehyung didn't stir. His breathing was steady, face half-buried in the pillow.
"Appa," Gyubin called again, a little louder this time.
Taehyung's brows twitched, and he hummed lowly before his eyes finally opened... slow, lazy, as if waking from a deep trance. The first thing he saw was a pair of wide, curious eyes staring right at him.
A small smile curved his lips. "Morning, Binnie boo," he murmured.
"Morning," Gyubin mumbled shyly before reaching for his little beanie lying beside the pillow. He slipped it over his head with practiced ease and gave a small satisfied nod.
Taehyung chuckled under his breath, his voice still husky from sleep. But as he sat up, a faint sting crawled along his thighs. His brows knitted. The blanket slid down, and his eyes widened.
Faint red scratches trailed over his skin, hidden just beneath the hem of his shirt. His lips parted soundlessly as heat rose to his face.
Last night.
He quickly pulled the blanket back over himself when he heard the patter of little feet.
"Appa, I'm going to wash my face." Gyubin said, standing by the bathroom door, rubbing his eyes.
"Mm, go ahead," Taehyung replied, forcing a soft tone.
Once the bathroom door shut, he exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. He stood, straightening his shirt, but his reflection in the mirror stopped him cold.
There they were.... the faint purplish marks scattered along his neck and shoulder, hidden partly by his collar but unmistakable.
He touched one gently, his fingertips ghosting over the bruised skin.
The contact brought back flashes Jungkook's voice low against his ear, the way he'd said his name, the way his breath had burned against his throat.
His pulse jumped.
No matter how hard I try not to give in... he thought bitterly, the moment he talks like that, I lose myself.
He dropped his gaze, pressing his lips together, hating how his body still ached from that night... not from pain, but from memory.
The sound of the faucet turning off snapped him back. Gyubin walked out, towel around his neck, eyes bright.
"Appa, where's Mr. Jeon?" he asked innocently, adjusting his beanie.
Taehyung blinked, his throat tightening. "In the living room," he said softly, forcing a small smile.
Gyubin nodded and padded out, leaving the door half-open behind him.
Taehyung remained standing in front of the mirror.
His reflection stared back disheveled hair, swollen lips, faint marks that refused to fade.
For a long moment, he just looked at himself, eyes dark with something unspoken.
.. regret, confusion, and that dangerous pull he could never seem to escape.
He pressed his hand against his chest, right where his heartbeat refused to settle, and whispered to himself.
"I hate you Jeon Jungkook..."
.
.
.
Gyubin walked into the living room, rubbing his sleepy eyes.
"Mr. Jeon?" he called softly.
Silence. The couch was empty.
He tilted his head, confused. Just then, a faint clink and the sound of something falling came from the kitchen.
Curious, Gyubin followed the noise, his tiny feet padding against the floor. He peeked around the doorway and his jaw dropped.
There, standing by the counter, sleeves rolled up and brows furrowed in concentration, was none other than Jeon Jungkook, the man who owned the Jeon Corp. the same man who rarely lifted a finger at home or work.
And he was... mixing cereal.
Gyubin's mouth parted in silent awe as Jungkook cracked an egg or at least, tried to.
The first attempt failed miserably; the second one shattered in his hand, yolk dripping between his fingers. The CEO muttered a quiet curse under his breath, staring at the mess with an expression that could only be described as mildly offended.
Gyubin's lips curled into a quiet smile. He quickly hid behind the wall again, trying not to grin as Jungkook glared at the bowl like it had personally betrayed him.
That's when Taehyung appeared behind him. "What are you doing, baby?" he whispered, leaning down slightly.
Gyubin only pointed wordlessly toward the kitchen.
Taehyung followed his gaze and froze. His jaw dropped, mirroring his son's expression.
Jeon Jungkook, the same man who could make board members tremble with a single look, was standing in his kitchen, sleeves rolled up, holding an egg like it was a ticking bomb.
Taehyung blinked once. Twice. Then sighed.
"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath as he stepped inside.
Jungkook turned at the sound of his footsteps. His hair was damp, slightly tousled, the scent of his cologne still fresh. His crisp shirt fit perfectly, clean and new; Taehyung guessed his men, who stood guard outside the door, must've brought him clothes earlier.
"You're up." Jungkook said casually, his tone unbothered, like being caught cooking was the most natural thing in the world.
"Someone has to fix the damage," Taehyung replied dryly, taking the egg from Jungkook's hand. He tapped it gently against the rim of the bowl and cracked it open with practiced ease, letting the yolk slide neatly in.
"See? You just have to be gentle for once."
Jungkook's lips twitched, the corner of his mouth curving upward. He stepped closer, lowering his voice until it brushed against Taehyung's ear.
"You like it rough though, don't you?"
Taehyung froze, his eyes widening. His breath caught in his throat as warmth crept up his neck. He immediately glanced toward the kitchen doorway where Gyubin stood, wide-eyed and confused, watching the two of them.
"Y-you-" Taehyung stammered quietly, glaring at Jungkook.
But Jungkook only smirked, completely unfazed. He grabbed a kitchen towel, wiped his hands, and tossed the cloth lazily over Taehyung's shoulder.
"Clean up the battlefield," he said smoothly before walking out of the kitchen, his usual calm swagger back in place.
Taehyung exhaled through his nose in disbelief. His gaze dropped to the half-cracked eggshells and spilled flour on the counter.
He shook his head with a sigh and mumbled a curse word for the CEO before grabbing a sponge.
From the corner, Gyubin peeked again, blinking up at his appa.
"Appa... Mr. Jeon doesn't know how to cook?"
Taehyung paused mid-wipe and smiled faintly. "Not even a little."
Gyubin giggled softly. "He tried though."
"Yeah," Taehyung murmured, glancing toward the doorway Jungkook had disappeared through. "He really did."
.
.
.
Jungkook sat on the couch, tablet in hand. The early morning light streamed through the tall windows, painting soft gold across his crisp shirt sleeves. His expression was calm, eyes skimming over the screen as if nothing in the world could disturb his focus.
From the hallway, small footsteps approached...hesitant at first, then braver.
Gyubin stopped a few feet away, staring quietly. His big eyes studied the man in front of him. For a moment, he just stood there, unsure if he should say anything.
Jungkook sensed the gaze before he even looked up. His thumb paused mid-scroll, and his dark eyes flicked toward the boy.
Gyubin quickly looked down, fiddling with his fingers.
Then, with a little courage, he walked over and climbed onto the couch beside him.
He sat a few inches away at first, stealing glances at the CEO's face.
.. and then, slowly, inch by inch, he scooted closer until his shoulder brushed Jungkook's arm.
Jungkook didn't move. His attention returned to the tablet, but his eyes softened slightly at the edges.
Gyubin's gaze dropped to the man's forearm to the dark ink patterns curling over his veins. His mouth parted a little. "They're pretty," he whispered, tracing the air near Jungkook's hand, careful not to touch.
Jungkook's fingers stilled. He turned his head, meeting the boy's curious eyes. For a second, the room went quiet again only the faint ticking of the clock filling the space.
"You like them?" Jungkook asked, his voice low, almost gentle.
Gyubin nodded quickly, his beanie bobbing with the motion. "They look cool," he said shyly. "Like drawings that tell stories."
Jungkook locked the tablet and set it aside, resting one arm on the back of the couch.
"You want them too?" he asked, arching a brow.
Gyubin blinked, surprised by the question, then nodded again with a small grin.
Jungkook's voice dropped into something firm but not unkind. "After eighteen," he said simply.
Gyubin's face fell a little, but then he nodded obediently. "Okay."
Jungkook hummed in approval. "Good boy."
The compliment was soft, offhand but it made Gyubin beam. He leaned back beside him, legs dangling off the edge of the couch as if the CEO's presence didn't scare him at all.
Taehyung placed the breakfast on the table, the faint sound of clinking cutlery filling the quiet room. Morning sunlight streamed lazily through the curtains, painting golden streaks across the floor soft, serene, and entirely misleading.
"Let's eat, Mr. Jeon," Gyubin said shyly, glancing up at Jungkook with a hopeful little smile.
Jungkook didn't reply at once. He looked up from his tablet. Then his lips curved faintly, knowingly.
"I ate enough last night."
The words were casual. The tone was not. It held an intention.
Taehyung, in the middle of pouring himself a cup of tea, froze mid-motion. His fingers trembled slightly; the spoon clinked against the porcelain, a fragile sound that filled the heavy silence that followed.
He didn't need to look up to know Jungkook's gaze was already on him.
When he finally did, he found the CEO leaning lazily against the backrest, his expression calm but his eyes carrying that same glint, the one that always made Taehyung's pulse stutter.
A smirk ghosted across Jungkook's lips, almost invisible, but Taehyung caught it.
He clenched his jaw and looked away, trying to sound unaffected. "Then don't," he muttered, his voice lower than usual.
Gyubin blinked, sensing something strange but saying nothing. He began eating quietly, his small hands fumbling with the spoon. Taehyung forced himself to soften, reaching over to adjust the napkin on his son's lap.
"Eat slowly, okay? And drink this after," he said, placing the medicine beside the glass of milk.
Gyubin nodded, unaware of the storm brewing right next to him.
Jungkook finally stood, setting his tablet aside. His voice, when he spoke, was calm, too calm, the kind that carried authority without needing to raise a tone.
"We'll be leaving in an hour," he said. "For the admission. In Seoul."
Taehyung's head snapped up. "What?"
Jungkook's gaze didn't waver.
"I said we're going to Seoul," he repeated.
Taehyung frowned, disbelief flashing across his face. "I'm not going to Seoul."
"You're coming," Jungkook replied smoothly, as if it were already decided.
"No, I'm not."
The air turned sharp.
Across the table, Gyubin froze mid-bite, eyes darting between them. Taehyung noticed immediately and forced a small smile as he placed his hand on the younger's shoulder. "Finish eating. Appa will be right back, okay?"
Then he turned to Jungkook, his smile fading, and gripped his wrist perhaps too tightly leading him toward the bedroom.
Once inside, he slammed the door shut behind them. The echo was sharp, the silence that followed even sharper.
"I told you I'm not going to Seoul," Taehyung said, his voice shaky but burning with frustration.
Jungkook didn't flinch. He stepped closer, each step measured and Taehyung hated how it made his heart skip.
"You said you wouldn't come to my mansion," Jungkook corrected softly. "You never said anything about Seoul."
"That's the same thing," Taehyung said, his voice cracking slightly.
Jungkook tilted his head, amused. "No. It's not."
Taehyung exhaled shakily, his hands balling into fists. "Why do you have to control everything? I'm happy here. With my son. Why can't we do his admission here?"
Jungkook's silence was heavier than words. His gaze lowered slowly...
to Taehyung's hand.
The glint of silver caught the light.
He reached out before Taehyung could even react, his fingers curling around the younger's wrist. The touch wasn't gentle. It wasn't rough either. It was possessive grounding and burning all at once.
Taehyung froze.
"I thought you would've taken this off," Jungkook murmured, brushing his thumb over the ring. The metal felt warm from Taehyung's skin.
"It was tight, wasn't it?"
Taehyung tried to pull his hand back, but Jungkook's grip only tightened. The veins on his forearm flexed, visible under the morning light, his skin marked faintly from where he had held Taehyung through the night.
"Let go," Taehyung whispered, trying to sound steady but failing miserably.
Jungkook looked up, his gaze knowing. "You could've taken it off," he said quietly. "But you didn't."
Taehyung's heart thudded in his chest. "I wear because it's too tight and hurts when I try to take it off." he said defensively.
"Is that so?" Jungkook murmured, voice dropping lower. He stepped in closer, close enough for Taehyung to feel the heat radiating off him. "Or because of me?"
Taehyung's breath hitched. "n-no."
Their eyes met... a moment stretched too long, too silent. Taehyung could see the faint reflection of himself in those dark eyes, and for a brief second, everything else in the room ceased to exist.
Jungkook finally released him. The skin on Taehyung's wrist tingled where his fingers had been, the ghost of his touch refusing to fade.
"Get ready," Jungkook said, voice returning to its calm, clipped tone. "We leave in an hour."
He turned to leave, pausing briefly at the door.
"And don't make it harder for yourself," he added quietly. "You still haven't figured out what you want to run from me or yourself."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Taehyung stood there for a long moment, breathing unevenly, eyes fixed on the space Jungkook had just left. His wrist still burned. His heart ached. And when he finally looked down at the ring, his reflection stared back tired, conflicted, trembling.
He hated how right Jungkook was.
.
.
.
The principal's office was too quiet, too polished - sunlight spilling over the sleek mahogany desk, glinting against the golden nameplate. Taehyung sat upright, shoulders stiff, pretending the weight beside him didn't make his pulse uneven.
Yes, he was in Seoul and he still couldn't believe it.
Gyubin sat close, his small hand resting over Taehyung's, thumb brushing nervously as his wide eyes darted around the unfamiliar room. He looked so small in his pale blue shirt and black trousers, a cap snug over his head shadowing his eyes.
"Jeon Gyubin," the principal said, glancing at the admission form.
Gyubin blinked, voice soft but firm, "Sir, I'm Kim Gyubin."
Taehyung's hand immediately squeezed his gentle but warning. "Gyubin," he murmured under his breath.
The boy pressed his lips together and nodded obediently, eyes dropping to his lap.
The principal looked curious, eyes flicking briefly toward the silent man leaning back in the chair beside them Jeon Jungkook but he wisely didn't comment.
Something about the CEO's calm, sharp gaze made his words shrink before they could leave his mouth.
He cleared his throat instead, forcing a professional smile. "So, Gyubin... you'll be joining third grade?"
The boy nodded, voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, sir."
"That's good," the principal said kindly, leaning forward a little. "Tell me, what subjects do you like?"
Gyubin hesitated, fingers fidgeting in his lap. "Math... and music," he said softly. "And I like painting too, sometimes."
"Wonderful," the principal smiled. "Do you have many friends who share those interests?"
Gyubin shook his head. "I... didn't go to school last year," he admitted, his voice faltering slightly.
The man's brows lifted, but before he could ask further, Taehyung placed a light hand on his son's shoulder, his expression calm yet firm, a silent signal not to push.
From the side, Jungkook hadn't said a word, but his presence was felt heavy, commanding, enough to make the principal's next words come out more measured, more cautious.
"Well, that's perfectly alright," he said quickly, straightening up. "You're healthy now, and that's what matters. I'm sure you'll make plenty of friends here."
Gyubin smiled faintly at that, shy but hopeful.
Jungkook's eyes softened just a little as he looked at the boy, though he didn't say anything. His silence carried weight the kind that made even seasoned men in tailored suits sit straighter without realizing why.
The principal cleared his throat again, avoiding direct eye contact with Jungkook now. "Everything seems to be in order," he murmured, his tone respectful. "We'll finalize the admission process shortly."
Taehyung nodded, exhaling quietly as Gyubin leaned into him.
The room fell into a comfortable hush the only sound being the soft scratch of the principal's pen and the steady, unspoken reminder of the CEO's gaze lingering nearby.
"Please fill out this form," the principal said, sliding a neat stack of documents across the polished mahogany desk. His tone was polite, but there was a hint of careful restraint the kind that came naturally when the most powerful CEO in the country was sitting across from you.
Taehyung gave a small nod, his fingers brushing the paper. "Of course."
The principal pressed a discreet button on his desk, and within seconds, a teacher entered a graceful woman with glasses perched on her nose and a kind, practiced smile. "Yes, sir?"
"Miss Lee, please show him around the school," the principal said, gesturing toward Gyubin.
The little boy blinked, clutching the hem of Taehyung's sleeve as though it was his lifeline. He always had a hard time meeting with strangers.
Taehyung leaned down and placed a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder. "Hey," he said gently, his voice low enough that only Gyubin could hear, "go see the classrooms, hmm? You'll like it here. I promise."
Gyubin hesitated, looking torn between curiosity and fear. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Okay..."
He turned toward the teacher and bowed politely. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."
The woman smiled, visibly charmed. "You're very polite, Gyubin. Come, I'll show you where you'll be studying."
As he reached the door, Gyubin turned back, his big eyes finding Taehyung's.
Taehyung smiled softly. "Go on," he mouthed, warmth and pride flickering in his eyes.
The boy's lips curved into a tiny smile before he disappeared through the doorway.
Once the door clicked shut, the air in the room shifted. The principal cleared his throat, almost nervously. "I'll... go check the campus facilities. Please, take your time filling that in."
"Of course," Taehyung replied politely.
When the door closed again, the silence that followed wasn't peaceful, it was thick. Heavy. The kind that pressed down on the chest.
Taehyung sat upright, his attention fixed on the admission form, while beside him Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his thumb scrolling idly across his phone screen though his gaze, sharp and dark, kept flicking toward the man next to him.
Taehyung filled in the blanks with practiced calm.
Name: Jeon Gyubin.
Age: 8.
Parent/Guardian: Jeon Jungkook.
Taehyung's pen hovered above the line that read Parent/Guardian: Jeon Jungkook.
His fingers trembled, the letters blurring faintly before his eyes. For a brief second, he considered writing his own name instead.....the one he had written hundreds of times before on medical forms, school papers, prescriptions, everything that had defined his life with Gyubin.
But he couldn't. Not anymore.
He drew in a quiet breath and forced the pen to move.
Each stroke of ink felt heavier than it should, like carving a wound open, neat and deliberate. When the last letter was done, he set the pen down slowly, staring at the name as though it belonged to someone else.
Jungkook's name. Beside his son's.
He blinked a few times, forcing the emotion away, and closed the file with a soft thud. "Your signature," he said, his tone even but faintly tight, as he extended the pen toward Jungkook.
The CEO, who had been lazily wandering around the office with his hands tucked into his pockets, paused mid-step. He turned his head slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he walked toward Taehyung.
Taehyung kept his gaze on the paper, pretending not to notice the slow, deliberate sound of Jungkook's footsteps against the marble floor... each one a reminder that this man never did anything without purpose.
When Jungkook reached him, he didn't take the pen. Instead, he leaned in from behind, his hand brushing against Taehyung's as he wrapped his long fingers around the younger's fingers.
Taehyung froze.
His breath hitched as Jungkook guided his hand down toward the form again, their fingers intertwined, the warmth of Jungkook's palm seeping into his skin.
"Eyes on the paper." Jungkook murmured near his ear... his voice low, quiet, yet far too close.
Taehyung's heart thudded painfully in his chest. His body went rigid, but he didn't pull away. He watched as Jungkook bent slightly over him.
Jungkook guided the pen across the page, his voice a quiet whisper against Taehyung's ear as he spelled the words.
"Jeon..."
The pen moved. Taehyung's throat bobbed as he tried to steady his breathing.
"Jung kook."
A full stop. Sharp and clean.
And then Jungkook lifted the pen, his hand still loosely holding Taehyung's lingering just long enough for the weight of the moment to sink in.
Taehyung stared at the fresh signature on the page. The way the bold, slanted letters looked exactly like the one that was tattooed on his waist.
His lips parted... a soft, involuntary breath.
Jungkook finally released his hand and straightened up. Taehyung instinctively pulled back his chair, needing distance, air anything to escape the heaviness of Jungkook's proximity.
Jungkook's gaze didn't leave Taehyung even as the door opened again. The principal stepped back in, wiping the nervous sweat from his forehead, trying to pretend he hadn't just felt the weight of Jungkook's stare the entire time.
"All done?" the principal asked, forcing a smile.
Taehyung nodded, offering the form he had neatly filled. "Yes, sir. Everything's complete."
"Thank you, Mr. Kim," the principal said politely, glancing at the document, only to notice the signature line. His eyes flickered to Jungkook's name scrawled in bold ink, the Jeon looping elegantly, precise. He swallowed.
Jungkook rose to his full height, his tone calm yet sharp as a blade. "Make sure he's comfortable here."
It wasn't a request.
The principal immediately straightened, his smile faltering. "O-of course, Mr. Jeon. Your son will be safe here. We'll make sure he's comfortable and well looked after."
Jungkook's expression remained unreadable. He didn't bother replying, just gave a brief nod before glancing at Taehyung. That look, brief yet piercing made Taehyung's heart twist again for reasons he wished he could ignore.
Taehyung bowed politely before turning and leaving the office, Jungkook's footsteps falling into rhythm behind him.
The hallway outside was quiet, the afternoon light spilling softly through the tall glass windows.
Taehyung's eyes immediately sought Gyubin and there he was, standing a few meters away, his small frame facing another child, a little girl who giggled shyly as Gyubin spoke in his soft, hesitant voice.
A smile tugged at Taehyung's lips. It was the first time he'd seen Gyubin interacting so naturally with another kid after months of isolation, after everything his fragile body had endured. The way his son's face lit up bright, innocent, unguarded made Taehyung's chest warm.
Jungkook came to stand beside him, silent but close enough that Taehyung could feel his presence.
Gyubin noticed them then. His eyes widened, and he excused himself from the girl with a polite little bow before running over.
"Appa!" Gyubin called out, voice bright and full of excitement as he reached Taehyung, clutching at the hem of his shirt. His cheeks were flushed from running, his eyes sparkling.
Taehyung knelt slightly. "Do you like it here?" he asked softly.
Gyubin nodded enthusiastically, his small fingers tightening around Taehyung's shirt. "The teacher is nice. And the classroom has big windows! I like it, Appa."
Taehyung's smile deepened, his heart swelling at the sight. He glanced at Jungkook, who stood quietly, his gaze fixed on Gyubin.
Taehyung looked back at his son, running a thumb along his cheek. "Then it's settled," he said, voice low and tender. "You'll study here."
Gyubin nodded again, looking between them not quite understanding the quiet storm lingering in the air between them but smiling anyway, because for now, he felt safe.
And that was all Taehyung wanted.