69
Third Person Pov
The evening was quiet... too quiet.
Jungkook sat on the couch, legs sprawled lazily over the edge of the table, a gun twirling between his fingers like a toy.
His shirt sleeves were rolled up, veins tracing along his forearms, the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth as he stared at the front door.
It creaked open moments later. Two of his men dragged a man inside and threw him to the floor. The dull thud of knees hitting marble echoed through the house.
“Mr. Jeon—please,” the man gasped, scrambling backward. His voice trembled like brittle glass.
Jungkook didn’t move. He tilted his head, eyes dark with amusement. “step back.” he said coolly.
The guards obeyed and stepped back. The man’s face was pale, sweat glistening under the warm light.
Taehyung had been on a call with his aunt when the commotion started. His words faded mid-sentence as his eyes darted toward the living room.
One of Jungkook’s men spoke up, “Mr.Jeon, he’s the one who clicked your private pictures that night.”
Taehyung froze. His heart lurched. Private pictures? His mind flashed to that night... the empty road, Jungkook’s lips against his skin, the chaos of it all. His lips parted soundlessly.
The man swallowed hard, trembling. “I–I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, I think you did.” Jungkook’s voice lowered, thick with mockery. He walked closer, circling him like a predator playing with his prey. “What did you want, exactly? Another picture? Or something live this time?”
The man shook his head frantically, but Jungkook just chuckled, low and cruel. He slid his free hand down his abdomen stopping at his belt.
Taehyung’s eyes widened as Jungkook’s fingers reached for his zipper.
“Y-you think I’d be scared of a few photos?” Jungkook drawled, his smirk darkening. “Let me make your effort worth it.”
The man whimpered, eyes squeezed shut. “Please, Mr. Jeon! I—I won’t! I won’t ever—please!”
Jungkook let out a low hum, watching him shake, then finally pulled the gun up, pressing the cold barrel to the man’s forehead. His smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Exactly,” he said softly. “You won’t.”
The man tried to step back but the sound of the gun cocking stopped him cold. Jungkook pressed the barrel against the man’s throat, his expression calm disturbingly calm.
Taehyung stood there frozen, unable to move, heart hammering against his ribs. His gaze trailed over Jungkook... the glint in his eyes, the terrifying ease in the way he held power.
There was something magnetic in the danger, something that made it impossible to look away.
He was poison wrapped in silk seductive, destructive, and utterly in control.
The metallic sound of a belt sliding free broke the silence of the hall.
Jungkook’s expression didn’t change as he tossed it toward one of his men.
“Beat him,” he said, voice calm but stripped of any trace of humanity. “Until he forgets how to even hold a phone.”
The belt landed with a soft slap in the guard’s hands.
The man hesitated for only a second before wrapping the leather around his wrist, waiting for another command that never came.
Jungkook didn’t need to repeat himself. His eyes alone were enough.
.. a quiet, merciless storm that dared anyone to disobey.
Taehyung stood, frozen. His throat felt dry, his stomach churning: this wasn’t the first time Jungkook had done something like this but he could never get used to this.
The first hit cracked through the air.
A scream followed.
The man on the ground writhed, his voice strangled, begging for mercy. Jungkook didn’t move, his hands stayed buried in his pockets, gaze fixed on the blood slowly darkening the marble floor.
“P-please! Please, Mr. Jeon, forgive me!”
Each cry seemed to bounce off the walls and die in the corners of the room.
Taehyung’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. He couldn’t look away, even though every instinct screamed to. This was wrong. This was too much. Gyubin was asleep behind the doors... thank God. If he saw this…
Another strike. A louder cry.
Taehyung flinched.
His fingers trembled as he looked at Jungkook, who stood there like he was made of stone. It was horrifying. His lips curved into the faintest smirk, one that didn’t reach his eyes.
Taehyung took a hesitant step forward. Then another. His voice came out quieter than he intended, almost a whisper against the chaos.
“stop…”
The older man didn’t turn.
The next sound of the belt hitting flesh made Taehyung wince. His heart pounded, each thud ringing in his ears. The man’s body was crumpled now, barely moving. “Please,” the man cried weakly, “I swear—just don’t— I won't do it again.”
Taehyung couldn’t take it anymore. He moved fast, grabbing Jungkook’s arm. His hands were trembling, gripping the fabric of his sleeve like it was the only thing holding him upright.
“Don’t,” he said again, voice trembling. “Please. You can send him to the police, the media—do whatever you want. Just not this.”
Jungkook finally turned his head, his gaze falling on Taehyung’s hand clutching his arm, then rising to his face. His brows lifted slightly.
“Why?” he asked quietly. “You feel sorry for him?”
Taehyung swallowed hard, trying to steady his breath. “No one deserves this,” he whispered. "Please..."
Jungkook’s eyes stayed on him for a long. Then, without looking away, he said in that low, quiet tone that carried the weight of command:
“Stop.”
The room fell silent.
The guard dropped the belt instantly. The man on the ground whimpered, his body shaking as he curled in on himself. Blood seeped from his split lip, staining the white floor.
Taehyung didn’t move. His chest rose and fell quickly, his breath shallow. Jungkook turned fully now, facing him. The faintest glimmer of something... irritation, confusion, maybe even envy flickered in his dark eyes.
“Your eyes…” he said softly, the corner of his mouth lifting into a mocking smirk “Your words. Your hands.” His gaze dropped briefly to where Taehyung had touched him. “They’re gentle for everyone except for your husband. Strange, isn’t it?”
Taehyung’s lips parted, but no words came out. His face tensed, jaw locking as he looked away. The accusation stung, though he couldn’t understand why. But then he didn't pay much attention to it.
He took a few steps back, putting space between them, and walked to the man on the floor. Kneeling down, he spoke quietly, his voice still shaking. “Don’t ever do that again. Next time, I-I won’t stop him.”
The man nodded desperately, tears mixing with blood. “Thank you… th-thank you,” he croaked.
Taehyung stood, his palms fisted, already trembling. He turned to the two guards. “Please get him treated,” he said.
The men hesitated, eyes darting to Jungkook.
Jungkook exhaled shaking his head, the faintest twitch of annoyance passing over his features. Then he gave a short nod.
The guards obeyed, dragging the broken man out of the hall. The sound of his groans faded until only silence remained.
Taehyung stood there for a moment, the echo of screams still buzzing in his ears. He turned, and Jungkook was still there hands back in his pockets, gaze fixed on him, watching him like he was trying to read something he couldn’t understand.
Taehyung couldn’t meet that look for long. He inhaled, lowering his head, and walked past him.
Jungkook didn’t move. He just stood there, surrounded by silence and the faint metallic scent of blood... alone again, with nothing but the echo of Taehyung’s trembling voice in his head.
.
.
.
Morning sunlight poured through the wide glass windows, soft and golden, spilling across the floor like liquid warmth.
Taehyung stood before the mirror, fingers working slowly over the last button of his shirt.
The pale blue fabric hugged him neatly, giving him that quiet, understated charm that never needed effort.
Behind him, Gyubin stood on his little stool, adjusting his tie, lips pursed in concentration.
“Appa, you remember my roll number, right?” the boy asked softly, eyes meeting Taehyung’s reflection in the mirror.
Taehyung smiled faintly. “Of course, I do,” he replied, reaching over to smooth down the collar of Gyubin’s white shirt. His voice carried that gentle pride that always made Gyubin’s chest warm.
Today was the parent-teacher meeting. Taehyung had marked that in his head, already nervous about how Gyubin was doing in school. It wasn’t just about academics... it was about showing up, being there, proving to himself that he could still handle the world.
He buckled the belt neatly, and then bent down to fix Gyubin’s cap over his shaved head. “There,” he murmured, tapping the brim. “Now you look perfect.”
Gyubin giggled, showing his missing front tooth. “You always compliment me, Appa.”
Taehyung chuckled softly. “Because it’s always true my love.”
He reached for Gyubin’s small backpack before the boy could, swinging it easily over his shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said, voice firm but affectionate.
But as they opened the door, both of them froze.
Leaning casually against the doorframe, a cup of coffee in hand, stood Jungkook. He was dressed sharp as always... black shirt tucked in, sleeves rolled, watch gleaming against his wrist. His gaze lifted slowly, and for a moment, silence filled the air thick enough to taste.
Gyubin blinked first, his face lighting up. “Good morning, Mr. Jeon.”
Jungkook’s grip on the cup tightened just slightly. The word “dada” echoed in his head... the same word Gyubin had once blurted out innocently, not knowing what it had done to him. He hummed quietly in response, a simple sound, low in his throat.
Taehyung, on the other hand, didn’t spare him a glance. His expression was calm, almost deliberately so. “Gyubin has his parent-teacher meeting today,” he said, straightening the strap on the bag. “I’ll be going with him.”
Jungkook’s eyes flickered, studying the way Taehyung stood between him and the kid, as if still building walls with his body alone. “I’m coming too,” Jungkook said simply, tone flat but final.
Taehyung turned to him sharply. His eyes, usually soft, flashed with irritation. “You don’t have to,” he replied, his voice polite but edged, like a blade sheathed in silk.
“I want to.” Jungkook cut in, his gaze steady.
The words hung between them like smoke, heavy and unspoken.
Gyubin blinked, glancing between them, sensing the sudden tension. His small fingers found Taehyung’s hand and squeezed it gently. Taehyung looked down, his expression softening instantly when he saw the boy’s face.
After a beat, Taehyung exhaled, his shoulders easing just slightly. “Alright,” he said quietly, eyes not meeting Jungkook’s. “Let’s go.”
He adjusted Gyubin’s cap once more before walking past Jungkook, not giving him a single look.
Jungkook pushed off the doorframe, keeping the coffee mug at a table and followed silently behind, his gaze fixed on the two figures ahead of him.
.. the boy skipping happily, the man beside him who still wouldn’t look back.
.
.
.
The school courtyard buzzed with laughter and chatter.
.m children running in circles, parents exchanging polite smiles and half-hearted gossip.
Bright drawings fluttered on the notice boards as Taehyung walked down the tiled corridor with Gyubin holding his hand, the boy’s tiny steps matching his calm, measured pace.
Jungkook followed a few steps behind, his hands buried in his pockets, eyes scanning the surroundings with a faintly disinterested look, though every now and then, his gaze flicked to the man walking in front of him.
The way Taehyung’s shirt tucked neatly into his trousers highlighting his perfect body, the way his shoulders straightened when someone greeted him.
Taehyung stopped when a familiar voice called his name.
“Oh, Taehyung!” Mrs. Hwang smiled warmly, her daughter standing beside her, clutching a Rubik’s cube.
Her face brightened. “It’s been a while.”
Taehyung chuckled softly. “A while, Mrs.Hwang? I saw you two days ago.”
Mr.Hwang laughed under her breath, her dimple showing faintly.
Jungkook’s eyes lowered, trailing down to the subtle curve of Taehyung's waist as he tilted slightly to talk to her. Something about that easy warmth made Jungkook’s jaw tighten and before he realized, he had moved closer.
Too close.
Taehyung stiffened when he felt Jungkook’s presence behind. His pulse skipped, and before he could take a step aside, a large hand settled on his hip firmly.
Mrs. Hwang blinked, her smile faltering as her gaze darted between the two men. “Uh— and this is…?”
“I’m his husband,” Jungkook said casually, his tone smooth but heavy with something unspoken. His thumb brushed over the fabric of Taehyung’s trousers, tracing idle circles as if daring him to react.
Taehyung’s throat bobbed. He forced a small, polite smile. “yes. He, um—came along for the meeting today.”
Mrs. Hwang gave a slightly awkward laugh. “Oh, how nice. It’s rare to see both parents together.
Taehyung’s lips parted to argue, but Jungkook’s thumb pressed a little harder daring him to deny and his breath caught for a second before he answered. “How are things at home?”
She sighed. “My husband is planning that Japan trip as always. Plans and cancellations—that’s our routine.”
Taehyung chuckled politely, but his smile wavered when Jungkook’s fingers slid down just an inch lower, his touch was seductively slow. Heat rose up Taehyung’s neck, mortifying him—they were in a school, for god’s sake.
“Mrs. Hwang, please come in,” an assistant teacher called from the door.
“Oh! That’s me. Excuse me, Taehyung.”
“Of course.”
As soon as she left, Taehyung stepped forward, turning sharply to face Jungkook, his voice low and tight. “We’re in a school, Mr.Jeon. At least behave here.”
Jungkook raised a brow, unbothered. “I was just standing.”
“Standing?” Taehyung hissed under his breath, voice shaking. “With your hands on my–my butt?!”
Jungkook’s lips curved faintly, leaning in just enough for his words to brush against Taehyung’s ear. “You didn’t stop me.”
Taehyung’s heart stuttered, his fingers curling into fists. “Because I-I don't want to create a scene here.”
“Neither do I,” Jungkook murmured, his tone low, amused... before stepping past him, his cologne lingering like a quiet threat.
Taehyung stood frozen for a second, his pulse erratic. Behind him, Gyubin tugged his hand softly. “Appa, are you okay?”
Taehyung blinked, forcing a smile as he nodded. “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.”
But he wasn’t. Not when Jungkook’s touch still burned against skin.
Taehyung kept his distance.
Jungkook stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, gaze sweeping the school courtyard like he owned the place. It wasn’t intentional, perhaps that silent authority he carried but it drew eyes all the same. Parents whispered, some out of curiosity, some because they recognized him. CEO Jeon.
Taehyung’s attention, though, stayed on Gyubin. The boy was laughing with Mrs. Hwang’s daughter, their small hands sticky with melted candy. It brought a soft smile to Taehyung’s face... a moment of calm, before he heard someone call out,
“Sir Jeon. Gyubin’s father?”
The words caught him off guard. His shoulders stiffened.
Gyubin blinked up at him. “Appa… why are they calling you Sir Jeon?”
Taehyung hesitated, glancing sideways. Jungkook was already walking toward the classroom, unbothered.
“Must be a mistake,” Taehyung murmured quickly, forcing a light tone. “I’ll tell them to correct it, hmm?”
Gyubin nodded, easily convinced. “Okay.”
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Taehyung added softly.
Mrs. Hwang returned just then, smiling as she sat beside the boy. “I’ll keep an eye on him, Taehyung.”
He thanked her, then followed Jungkook into the building.
The teacher looked up as the door opened. She was young maybe mid-twenties her expression polite but faltering when she saw two men walk in together. She stood instinctively, smoothing her skirt.
“Please, have a seat,” she said, voice a little too soft.
They sat, Jungkook leaning back with casual dominance, one arm resting over the back of the chair, while Taehyung sat upright beside him, composed but visibly tense.
The teacher’s eyes flicked briefly toward Jungkook.. recognition dawning instantly. Everyone knew who he was. CEO Jeon Jungkook. The name alone carried the weight of headlines and hushed rumors.
Her voice wavered as she started, “It’s been about two weeks since Gyubin joined our school, so today I’ll be sharing my initial observations.”
She spoke, but her focus wasn’t steady. Every time Jungkook’s gaze lifted sharp and curious, her words stumbled slightly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers trembling just enough to notice.
Taehyung caught it. He looked at her, then at Jungkook, feeling a strange flicker of irritation stir in his chest though he quickly pushed it down. I don't care. It doesn’t matter. I hate him.
Jungkook, on the other hand, seemed entirely aware of the effect he was having on Taehyung. He tilted his head slightly, his lips curving in faint amusement as if he could sense Taehyung’s shifting energy beside him.
The teacher cleared her throat again, tapping her pen nervously against the desk. “Gyubin is a bright child,” she said. “Curious, very observant, and… gentle.” Her eyes softened as she smiled. “He has a lot of empathy... reminds me of someone who’s raised him with a lot of care.”
Taehyung smiled faintly, warmth softening his features. “Thank you. He’s… been through a lot, but he’s settling in.”
Jungkook’s gaze flicked sideways, lingering on the small smile tugging at Taehyung’s lips and something unspoken passed between them.
The teacher looked between them, almost sensing it but not understanding. “If I may ask,” she started carefully, “are you both—?”
Jungkook interrupted smoothly, voice deep and controlled. “Yes. We're married.”
The teacher blinked, color rushing to her cheeks. “O-oh. I see.”
Taehyung’s lips parted, eyes snapping toward Jungkook. “That’s not—”
But Jungkook didn’t look at him. He just leaned back, fingers tapping lightly against his thigh, and Taehyung kept quiet.
The silence that followed was taut heavy with the kind of tension that didn’t belong in a classroom.
Taehyung forced a polite smile, turning back to the teacher. “Please continue.”
She nodded quickly, flipping through her notes to hide her fluster. Jungkook just smirked faintly to himself, eyes drifting lazily toward Taehyung again.
The teacher’s tone was polite, her smile soft. “I’ve also noticed Gyubin... he’s interested in boxing?” she asked, looking between the two men. “You might consider putting him in a class. It could be good for his body.”
Taehyung smiled faintly, opening his mouth to respond... only to stiffen when he felt Jungkook’s fingers started tracing his inner thigh. His head turned slightly, eyes narrowing, but Jungkook didn’t even glance his way.
“Yes,” Taehyung said carefully, trying to focus on the teacher. “I was thinking the same, but since he already gets tired from school and is still on medication, I’m hesitating for now.”
Jungkook’s fingers slid a little higher, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin fabric of Taehyung’s trousers.
Taehyung swallowed. “Once he gets used to this busy life, I’ll look into—”
He broke off when Jungkook’s fingers pinched his inner thigh, a sharp jolt of pain shooting through him. His breath hitched audibly, words faltering.
“—a… a class,” he finished, forcing a stiff smile. His hand moved under the table, gripping Jungkook’s wrist hard, trying to pull it away. But Jungkook didn’t budge. His thumb traced slow, deliberate circles on Taehyung’s thigh, defiant.
“Alright,” the teacher said cheerfully, oblivious. “That’s all for now. Gyubin is a very well-mannered child, and he’s adjusting beautifully. You’ve done a great job raising him.”
Taehyung forced his voice to stay steady. “Thank you,” he said, his tone softer than he meant it to be.
The teacher smiled again but this time, her eyes lingered on Jungkook. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she looked down at her notes, fidgeting with her pen. Taehyung caught the look, his stomach twisting for reasons he didn’t care to admit.
He hated it... the way it made his pulse tighten, the way he noticed every small, nervous smile she gave Jungkook. He hated that it mattered.
“Thank you for your time,” Taehyung said quickly, standing and prying Jungkook’s hand off him.
He bowed politely, not trusting his own voice any longer. Before the teacher could say another word, he turned and walked out of the room, his back straight, his pace clipped.
Jungkook stayed a second longer. The teacher hesitated, then bit her lip before sliding a small piece of paper across the desk. “In case you ever need to discuss Gyubin’s progress… outside school hours,” she said softly.
Jungkook looked down at it... her number neatly written, a small heart at the end. He picked up the paper, studying it briefly. She smiled shyly, clearly misreading his silence.
But as he stepped out, Jungkook stopped by the door, crushed the paper in his hand, and tossed it straight into the dustbin without a second glance.
The sound of it hitting the metal echoed in the quiet classroom. The teacher froze, her lips parting in disbelief.
Jungkook didn’t look back. He simply adjusted his cuffs, expression disinterested, and followed the direction Taehyung had gone.
.
.
.
Taehyung walked out into the corridor, his heartbeat loud in his ears.
His fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight as he tried to calm the storm building inside him.
Every step echoed sharply against the tiles.
.. quick, angry, restless. He needed to find Gyubin. He needed to just get out of here.
But before he could reach the next turn, a hand wrapped firmly around his waist and yanked him backward. His breath hitched.
In the next second, he was shoved inside a dim janitor’s closet, the faint scent of cleaning supplies and dust filling the air. The door clicked shut behind them.
Taehyung’s eyes widened. “W-what the hell—” he snapped, turning sharply, only to come face-to-face with Jungkook.
The CEO stood there, towering as he stepped ahead.
Taehyung took a step back instinctively. “You can’t just—” he started, voice trembling with frustration. “This is a school, Mr.Jeon. Gyubin’s waiting for me. And I told you—” his tone cracked — “I told you to stay away from me.”
His voice softened, desperation bleeding through. “Please, I’m asking you for once… how many times do I have to say it before you finally listen?”
Jungkook stopped. His silence was unnerving. His gaze burned steady, as though each word from Taehyung was carving into him.
“First you come to the meeting uninvited,” Taehyung continued, voice rising. “Then y-you start touching me in front of people. Do you even realize what you’re doing? I-I don’t want this!”
He exhaled sharply, running a trembling hand on his face. “Please just let me be in peace for once. I-I can’t... I just just—”
Before he could finish, Jungkook stepped forward, hands reaching for his waist again, pulling him closer. "Relax."
Taehyung froze, his back hitting the shelf behind him.
“Don’t,” Taehyung whispered, trying to push him away. But Jungkook’s grip only tightened, not painfully, but firmly enough to keep him still.
“Why do you always lash out on me?” Jungkook asked quietly, his tone calm in contrast to the chaos in Taehyung’s chest.
Taehyung’s throat worked. His voice broke when he spoke. “Because I— I don’t like you!” he burst out, the words trembling, raw. “And I’ll keep doing it until you understand that!”
He took a shaky breath. “We don’t have a future together. We never will. Because if we did—” his voice wavered again, “—I’d never be able to forgive myself.”
His gaze lifted, meeting Jungkook’s unflinching stare. “I’ll always live in that pathetic guilt… wondering how I could ever forgive a man who ruined me. Who destroyed everything I was.”
The room went still.
“And the worst part?” Taehyung’s tone broke... soft but cutting. “You never even apologized properly. You-You never looked me in the eye and said you were wrong. You never once tried to understand the consequences of what you did.”
His words trembled like shattered glass. “You just keep doing what you’ve always done... pushing me, cornering me, manhandling me until I can’t breathe.”
Jungkook’s jaw flexed. His grip faltered for the first time, fingers twitching at Taehyung’s waist. The silence between them grew heavy.
Taehyung blinked rapidly, his lashes damp. “You think all this means I’ll fall for you?” he whispered, his voice barely audible now. “No. All it does is remind me of how much I hate what you turned me into. For still reacting. For-for still letting you get this close.”
He finally pried Jungkook’s hands off, stepping back. His breath came uneven. “So please just Stop.”
Jungkook just stood there, his eyes burning, his expression carved in quiet devastation as Taehyung turned away, gripping the doorknob with trembling fingers.
Before Taehyung could even open it, he was shoved back... his shoulder hitting the wall hard enough to make him gasp.
The next thing he felt was Jungkook’s breath ghosting over his skin, and before he could even form a word, Jungkook crashed his lips against his.
Taehyung’s hands immediately went up, slapping down on Jungkook’s arms in shock. His heart lurched, pounding violently inside his chest.
“Quiet.” Jungkook muttered against his mouth, the words rough, almost growled swallowed by the heat of the kiss."...this is the only way you ever shut up."
Taehyung’s mind spun. He gritted his teeth and bit down on the older's lower lip, a sharp warning meant to push him away but Jungkook only let out a low hiss, his lips curving into a faint smirk that made Taehyung’s stomach twist.
Jungkook’s hand slid down, gripping Taehyung’s waist tightly, his fingers digging into the fabric as he pulled him closer. The friction of their bodies made Taehyung’s breath stutter.
Taehyung tried to push him back, his palms pressing against Jungkook’s chest, but the man didn’t budge.. only pressed harder, kissing him deeper, rougher, like he was trying to claim every piece of air between them.
Taehyung’s back arched against the wall, his pulse thudding so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts.
He should’ve pushed him away. He knew that. But the more he struggled, the more his resistance started to blur... the anger that had been burning inside him twisting into something hot and dizzying.
His hands, that were once pushing Jungkook away, now found the fabric of his collar, clutching it tight as if holding on for balance.
Jungkook’s grip loosened a little then tightened again when Taehyung pulled him back down. The kiss deepened, messy, desperate and Taehyung, despite everything, kissed him back.
Taehyung shut his eyes tight as Jungkook deepened the kiss... his lips pressing harder, tilting his head just enough to fit perfectly against Taehyung’s.
The air grew heavier, the faint scent of cologne and heat surrounding them. Jungkook’s hands slid up Taehyung’s back, fingers curling into the fabric as he squeezed, pressing himself closer until there was no space left between them.
Taehyung’s lashes trembled. His throat ached, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes a mess of confusion, frustration, and something like longing.
When Jungkook finally pulled back, the air hit Taehyung’s lips, damp and trembling. He opened his mouth to say something anything but nothing... he said nothing.
Before he could even recover, Jungkook spun him around. "Aah—" Taehyung winced as his chest hit the wall with a muted thud, his palms flat against the cold surface. His breath hitched when Jungkook pressed against his back, his presence firm, almost overwhelming.
“Taehyung.”
Just his name and it sounded nothing like it ever had before.
Jungkook leaned in closer, his face half-buried against Taehyung’s shoulder.
“Be.... my family, Taehyung.”
Taehyung froze... the words hitting him harder than the grip on his waist. “W-what are you saying…” His voice shook, a fragile whisper against the heavy silence.
“I don’t even know what I’m saying or doing half the time,” Jungkook said quietly, his voice steady even as his words weren’t. He kept his head on Taehyung's shoulder.“If I did…maybe I’d stop breaking the things I want to keep.”
He let out a shaky exhale... not frustration this time, not anger, but something almost like vulnerability.
Taehyung swallowed hard, his eyes stinging. Jungkook’s hand loosened at his waist, but his voice dropped one last time, quieter than before.
“You care for everyone,” he murmured. “You forgive people who don’t even ask for it. You find excuses for strangers… But when you look at me…” his lips brushed Taehyung’s shoulder, “…you only see something you need to run from.”
Taehyung’s hands trembled where they rested on the wall, his pulse thundering. The silence that followed felt unbearable too full, too heavy as if the whole world had narrowed to the space between Jungkook’s breath and his own.
There was silence as Jungkook savored Taehyung's skin. His presence. His scent. Just him. And then...
He finally stepped back. The sudden distance between them felt heavier than any touch.
Taehyung turned around slowly, breath uneven. Jungkook stood there, hands buried in his pockets, eyes fixed on him. But they weren’t the same eyes Taehyung had grown used to neither cold nor calm, neither commanding nor detached.
They looked… full. Heavy. Like they carried things words couldn’t handle. Things that could only spill through tears but even tears refused to come.
Taehyung’s fingers twitched, an instinct to reach out, to say something, to do anything but he clenched them into fists instead. He couldn’t. Not again.
“You can go,” Jungkook said quietly. His voice was steady, but it lacked its usual control. “I won’t hold you back this time.”
Taehyung swallowed hard, eyes flickering to the floor before he took a step back. Then another. His pulse was loud in his ears as he reached for the doorknob.
He glanced at Jungkook one last time. The man was still standing there, gaze unmoving, shoulders squared like he was holding himself together by force.
Taehyung’s lips parted, but no words came. So he turned, opened the door, and walked out leaving Jungkook alone in the dim room, staring at the wall as though it could answer for what just broke between them.
Outside, Taehyung blinked fast. The hallway lights felt too bright. He found Gyubin playing with Mrs. Hwang’s daughter, his little laugh echoing faintly down the corridor.
“Thank you for looking after him,” Taehyung said, forcing a polite smile. His voice was thin, unsteady.
“It’s alright,” Mrs. Hwang replied, studying him. “But Taehyung… are you okay? Your eyes—they look red.”
Taehyung blinked quickly, shaking his head with a small, practiced smile. “Must be the dust,” he murmured.
He reached for Gyubin’s small hand, his grip almost trembling. “Let’s go, baby.”
He bowed slightly and started walking toward the exit, the air thick with things unsaid.
A few steps ahead, Jungkook appeared already heading toward the car. His stride was slow, silent. He didn’t look back, didn’t speak.
And Taehyung followed, just as silent, a few paces behind... two people walking side by side, together yet miles apart.