Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jungkook clutched his backpack straps as soon as he entered the campus grounds, looking around as he absorbed the new surroundings. His heart pounding on his chest, feeling quite nervous within seconds of him entering the University. Everything felt too big, too loud, too unfamiliar.

He kept his head down as he walked towards his building, hoping that no one would notice the way his hands trembled every time someone walked faster beside him.

He soon found himself waiting in line at the elevator as his classroom was located on the 8th floor. he grumbled an annoyed “What the hell” under his breath, hoping yet again that no one would hear him complaining.

He looks around the people who are also waiting in line, internally cursing at himself for wearing his hoodie as it’s currently too hot and he’s already sweating his ass off. Great, just great. Jungkook thinks to himself.

As he waits for his turn to go inside the elevator, he turns to look at the line next to him. He notices someone, or a guy rather, who looks like he’s supposed to be on a magazine cover, cause what? He looks too handsome for his own good!

The said man he was staring at tilts his head to look over in Jungkook's direction, causing their eyes to meet before the man looked away nonchalantly.

Jungkook didn’t realize that the elevator was already at the ground floor, the operator looking at him confused as to why he wasn’t going inside. He hurriedly went in, looking flustered as he zoned out again. He had been doing that a lot these days, maybe he was just anxious with his new University, yeah, maybe.

Being inside an elevator full of people whom he doesn’t know proves to be harder than he thought, mostly because he was shoved to the back so that other people could squeeze themselves in more.

With Jungkook’s smaller height, he feels himself getting a little crushed as he tries to push the person’s bag in front of him away from his face.

Sighing to himself, he looked down at his feet, his hands fixing and patting his skirt as more people got out of the elevator at the 7th floor. Letting out a sigh, he somehow feels grateful that there are fewer people now.

“Thank you,” He said to the operator as he got off the elevator, walking over to the right side of the building.

He didn’t have any trouble at finding his classroom as it’s the first room, 804. Letting out a sigh to let out his nervousness, he twists the doorknob to let himself in, already seeing some people who he assumes to be his classmates, sitting down and staring at him as he closes the door behind him.

He bowed to them while he quickly made his way to a seat beside the window and put his stuff down in front of him. He let out the breath that he didn’t realize he was holding and looked over at the window, putting his cheek on his hand, tuning out the noise from his classmates as he distracted himself on his phone.

A few minutes later, another person entered the classroom, causing every person in the room to turn and look to see who the person would be. Jungkook looked up as well upon hearing the door shut, causing his eyes to widen a bit as he recognized the man, he was the gorgeous man he had seen earlier in line. Who would’ve known they’d be classmates? Not Jungkook, of course.

Jungkook averts his gaze elsewhere, like on his phone, once he realizes he was zoning out. Again. He shook his head lightly, only to stop himself to fix his styled hair. Yes, he likes to doll himself up, even if he was shy of most things, he wouldn’t shy away from making himself look presentable every chance he gets.

After he deems himself looking okay enough, he glances around the room only to find the good-looking man sitting just two rows away from him. Soon, the classroom was filled with students as the professor entered the room, causing all of them to stand up and greet the professor, who introduced himself as ‘Mr Lee’

“As you all know, today is the first day that students are back in class. That would mean that there’d be no lesson, as today is Orientation Day, you will meet some of your professors over the next few hours. Take my time in your class to get to know each other.” Mr Lee announces to the class before grabbing his stuff as he goes out of the room.

The silence that took over the whole room was soon replaced with people talking to each other in a rather loud way. Jungkook didn’t know people could be this loud until he stepped into this University.

He decided to pull his hoodie over his head and lay his head on his desk, closing his eyes, feeling sleepy, his lack of sleep from last night finally catching up to him.

He opened his eyes as soon as he felt someone tapping on his arm, raising his head to look at the person who tapped him, only to see a blonde-haired man smiling at him nicely. He hurried to fix himself, feeling embarrassed to be woken up.

“Uh, yeah?” Jungkook winces at himself for being awkward towards the blonde man, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t even know him.

“Hello! I”m Jimin, Sorry to interrupt your little nap ..” The blonde guy named Jimin trails off his words, now smiling awkwardly at him, seemingly expecting Jungkook to finish his sentence.

“It’s Jungkook.” He quickly gives a polite smile to Jimin in return. “And no, it’s alright, what do you need, Jimin?”

Jungkook could only hope his question doesn’t come out as rude, he just doesn’t have any idea why this person is speaking to him in the first place. He looks like an angel, though, Jungkook thinks to himself as he waits for the other’s response.

“Well, I’m just wondering since we sit next to each other, is it okay if we go to the cafeteria together?”

Jimin asked him, looking at Jungkook with a glint of hope in his eyes. Practically puppy eyes as Jungkook thinks to himself again.

“Oh,” he said rather quietly, contemplating whether or not he should accept Jimin’s offer.

After thinking for a few seconds, He didn’t waste another second as he nodded his head at the other, giving him a polite smile, “Sure, let’s go together.”

Jimin gave him a big smile that reached up to his eyes, causing it to disappear. Jungkook thinks he’s adorable, and he can see them being great friends.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Walking with hesitant steps, Jungkook looked around as they headed towards the cafeteria. Yes, he’s with Jimin as he was dragged by the blonde-haired exclaiming that it’s better to go to the cafeteria while there aren’t that many students yet.

He's basically fidgeting as they make their way through some students in the hallway.

Occasionally, he would look down at his feet whenever Jimin stops to talk with some people, he supposes Jimin already knew a few students here he takes a mental note to ask the other about it later.

One thing Jungkook didn’t expect was to bump into a person who he thought was too tall, he looked up to mutter an apology, only to be shrugged off as the person quickly said, “It’s fine,” before walking away, headphones on his head and his hands in his pocket.

Jimin saw the whole interaction, and he gently nudged Jungkook to continue walking towards the cafeteria.

He gave a small smile and nodded his head at the older, he asked him how old he was earlier when he felt brave enough to start a conversation on his own. He was shocked to find out that Jimin is 21, a year older than him, as he had initially thought they were the same age.

Sitting down on the table they both chose, Jimin quickly said to Jungkook that he just needed to go to the bathroom quickly. He shrugged and muttered an Okay to the other before looking around the whole cafeteria, trying to find a stall that offered delicious food, as he was feeling quite hungry. He clicked his tongue at himself for not eating breakfast before going to school. Cut him some slack.

He was too nervous and didn’t want to be late on his first day. deciding to stand up once he finds a stall that he likes and walks towards it, telling the stallholder his order.

As he waits for his name to be called, he decides to go back to his table first, thinking that it’s gonna take a bit long for his order to be finished. Using his phone while he walked, Jungkook hadn't noticed the wet sign that indicated a janitor had mopped the floor.

he continued to walk, engrossed in his phone, when he felt someone grabbing his arm. Pulling him over to the side before he could say anything, startled and shocked, he looked at the hand that was grabbing him before finally looking up to see who it belonged to, to his shock. again. It was the same guy he bumped into.

“Watch where you’re going, you’re gonna ruin the Janitor’s work.” The gorgeous boy said to him before letting his arm go and stepping away from him.

Jungkook swore he had never been this embarrassed that he felt like hiding away, with a flustered face, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and walked to his table before sitting down.

Few minutes later, Jimin comes back from the bathroom only to see a very red Jungkook, The other decides to not ask him about it and continues their conversation from earlier with Jungkook telling him that he had already ordered something for the both of them, which made Jimin squeal and thank him promising to pay him later which of course, he denied.

He’s already fond of the other, and it’s his way of thanking him for offering to eat together, which he also assumes is the older’s way of asking to be friends. Out of curiosity, Jungkook mustered up the courage to ask the other about a certain man he kept bumping into.

“So uh, you know about the guy I bumped into earlier?”

Jimin looked at him, confused for a second before humming to him, “Oh? You mean Taehyung?” he says with a tilt in his head, looking at the other expectantly.

Jungkook rests his cheek on his hand with the new information. He thinks to himself, even his name is pretty. “Jungkook, hey– I said what about him?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, he smiled at Jimin awkwardly. “Nothing, just curious,” he says before hearing his name being called. Mumbling to the other, he stood up, going towards the stall.

Grabbing his order before going back to their table, as he walks, he notices the same guy with his friend at another table just a few meters away from them. He shakes his head as he feels a little ridiculous that his attention was already on someone.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Chapter Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Rustling through his keys, Jungkook finally finds the right one and pushes it through the keyhole. Pushing the door open and flicking the light switch on, he let out a small huff as the tiredness swept through his whole body.

He pushes his body towards the kitchen, opening up the refrigerator to grab a glass of water.

Looking up to find his brother walking down the stairs, “Hyung, I think I’m gonna skip dinner today, I'm not that hungry,” he said as he gulped down the glass of water before putting it down at the sink.

“Alright, I’ll leave some for you if you get hungry later,” Namjoon said before sitting down on the sofa with a book in his hand, returning to read.

Jungkook hums at him as he goes up the stairs to his bedroom. Turning the doorknob, he enters and immediately drops his bag on the ground before he huffs out a tired groan.

“Great, now I need to take a bath. I feel sticky,” Jungkook grumbles to himself as he heads to his bathroom, stripping his clothes off before entering the shower.

He finishes soon and grabs a towel to cover his body as he does his skincare after. Only going out of the bathroom when he deems himself clean and plops down on his bed, closing his eyes for a few seconds before shooting them open as he thinks of a certain person.

“What the hell... I need to sleep this off.” He shakes the thought off with a small smile on his lips as he drifts off to sleep.

Jungkook is late, twenty minutes late to be exact.

He bites his lips when he is feeling nervous, and right now, that’s exactly what he is doing. He’s in the car with Namjoon, driving him to his University, glancing at his watch every ten seconds. Jungkook couldn’t believe that he forgot to set his alarm the night before, you see, he doesn’t like being late.

He made it his motto or plan, whatever. that he would always arrive earlier than the assigned time. But right now, he’s about twenty-five minutes late when he finally heard Namjoon mumble a ‘We’re here’ to him.

Grabbing the car door, he jumped out with a rushed, “Bye, hyung!” already halfway into a speed-walk before it even shut behind him. His bag bounced against his side as he made a beeline for the gate, long legs moving with urgency but very clear intent, not running.

Absolutely not. Running meant sweating, and sweating meant discomfort, potential outfit damage, and worst of all, looking slightly less put together than planned.

He wasn’t about to sacrifice his dignity for punctuality, even if he was cutting it a little close. A controlled panic walk would have to do.

Seeing that there was no line in front of the elevator, he let out a sigh of relief as he would rather wait in a line instead of taking the stairs. Hello? His room was on the last floor.

He patiently waits for the elevator to arrive, tapping his shoes on the floor. Biting his lips again when the elevator finally opened, he saw that there was no operator inside, which made sense since class had already started. He entered, and as he was about to click on the button to close it, another person yelled.

“Wait!”

Jungkook looked up to see.

Taehyung?

It seemed like he was running as he was out of breath. His eyes widen a bit, looking at him as he enters the elevator. Finally closing it, only the two of them are inside.

Jungkook was on the other end while Taehyung was on the other side, they mirrored each other. The elevator stops on every floor, which makes it even more awkward as they stand in complete silence. He takes a quick glance at the other and flinches slightly, he finds the other already looking at him, which makes him look down as a slight blush crept up to his cheeks.

A ding finally breaks the silence in the elevator as it says they’re at the 8th floor, and Jungkook is the first to step out.

Taehyung watches him hurriedly step out and scoffs to himself, finding the other hilarious as he looks like he’s about to shit himself. He steps out as well and heads towards their classroom, seeing the other– praying?

What.

Taehyung thinks to himself as he sees him in front of the door, shaking his head, he twists the doorknob to enter and looks back at the guy, who seems to have stopped praying by now, and looking at him.

“Are you gonna enter or not?” Taehyung says with an irritated tone.

When Jungkook finally got his shit together, he mumbled a flustered Thank you, at the other as he entered the room giving a quick bow at their professor as he still wants to be respectful. Heading towards his seat beside Jimin, he can see the other giggling at him.

Meanwhile, Taehyung enters the room as well with his usual grumpy face, but also bows to the professor in front. He sat down on his seat, next to him, his friend Hoseok snickering and teasing him about being late.

Usually he would be returning Hoseok’s teasing with a much more intense remarks as he knows the other is used to his short temper, but when his eyes wander around the room, he spots the guy who seems to be a little short in terms of his age, the one he’s in the elevator with earlier.

Curious and confused as he seems to be dressed differently, it was a simple skirt, black and pleated, resting above his knees, not tight, not flashy. But something about it made Taehyung’s throat dry.

The cardigan didn’t help, soft purple and slightly oversized, slipping off one shoulder like it didn’t quite belong to him. There were little embroidered flowers near the sleeves. Who even wore that?

He looked delicate but not fake-delicate, Real, Touchable, Breakable.

Taehyung clicked his tongue and looked away.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, but his eyes found the other again anyway, he thought to himself, too pretty for his own good. Before turning his whole attention to the person speaking in front.

“Alright, since it’s my first time seeing you students, isn’t it fair that you introduce yourself in front? You can keep it short or do it however you like.” Mr. Lee says loudly for the people at the back to hear, hearing some students groan about not wanting to do it, Mr Lee just waved his hand, chuckling to himself as the first student goes in front to start his introduction.

Jungkook on the other hand was practically shaking in his seat, he didn’t expect that they would have to do it in front.

“Hyung, I'm so nervous.” Jungkook whispered to Jimin, who’s next to him.

“You’ll be fine, just say your name and age. That’s it,” Jimin says as he squeezed the younger's hand before turning his head to listen to the student speaking in front.

Well fuck, he doesn’t know what to do, he sees that it’s almost his and Jimin’s turn.

He felt his hand getting sweaty as Jimin stood up to introduce himself, he sure kept it simple as it’s suddenly Jungkook’s turn.

It was his turn.

Jungkook stood slowly, heart thudding behind his ribs like it was trying to escape. His hands twisted into the hem of his cardigan as he stepped out from behind his desk and walked to the front of the room. He could hear the soft brush of his skirt with every step, too loud, too noticeable.

He hated this part, standing there, facing rows of strangers, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“Um… I’m Jeon Jungkook,” he said, eyes fixed on a spot on the wall just above everyone’s heads. “20 years old.”

His voice was soft. Not on purpose, it just never came out any louder than that when he was being looked at. A few polite nods. Some barely-there smiles.

But he still felt it. A gaze that didn’t just glance and move on.

Someone was staring. Not like the others. Mr. Lee nodded his head at him while his hands clenched tighter in his sleeves. He gave the smallest bow, turned quickly, and went back to his seat without looking at anyone.

As he sat down, cheeks warm and stomach tight, he tried to breathe. It was over. But that feeling, like someone had seen him, stayed.

Jimin smiled at him as soon as he sat down, trying to calm his nerves, but he didn’t have the time to return the smile. Still feeling rather embarrassed when all he managed to say in front of them was his name and age only.

Great, I wonder what they think about me now.

He thinks to himself as he keeps fidgeting on his seat, unable to calm himself for some reason, he tries to focus on the next person in front, and it works somehow.

Soon, it was Taehyung’s turn. In front, he waited for the person before him to finish, which was Hoseok, then stood up without much thought. It was his turn to introduce himself. Nothing special, just something he needed to do.

“Kim Taehyung. First year. Music major,” he said plainly, his voice steady but relaxed. He gave a small nod to the professor, then turned and walked back to his seat without lingering. No need to draw attention or make a show of it.

Sitting down, he let out a quiet breath, glad that part was over. He leaned back, crossing his arms comfortably, watching as the remaining students finished up their introduction. Only then did Mr. Lee starts his lesson.

While Mr. Lee was speaking in front, Jungkook couldn't help but wonder why Jimin already knew Taehyung’s name. He placed a small pat on the other’s arm.

“Yeah?” Jimin looked at him with a raised brow.

He looked at him and grinned softly, “well, I was wondering, how do you know him?” Jungkook points at Taehyung subtly with his eyes, causing Jimin to follow it, only for it to land in Taehyung’s seat.

Jimin grins at him, putting a hand on his waist like a diva, his full attention on Jungkook now. ‘Wouldn't you like to know, huh?”

Jungkook looks at him confused, only for his face to flush with Jimin’s words. “Never mind.” He got laughed at when the other noticed him looking embarrassed, “We’re neighbors. He lives across from me, so I see him all the time, obviously.” Jimin finally said to him as he looked for the other’s reaction.

Thankfully, Jungkook did a good job acting nonchalant as he saw in the corner of his eyes that Jimin wasn’t looking anymore.

Jungkook stared ahead, pretending to listen to whatever the professor was saying, but his thoughts were already spinning. He didn’t expect them to be neighbors, and it seems like they were close too, considering that Jimin knew his name.

Shrugging the thoughts off, just like that, Mr. Lee was already going out of the room. He must’ve been zoning out as the class was finished for now, giving them thirty minutes of free time. He laid his head on his arm as he tried to doze off, but Jimin had other plans, standing up and urging Jungkook to do the same. What is with Jimin, and why is he always waking him up?

Whining and protesting to the other as he let him drag him to who knows where, only then he realized Jimin was walking towards– Taehyung?! Again?

“Wait what–”

Jimin kept walking until they both reached him or them. He doesn't know anymore.

Taehyung was scrolling through his phone while Hoseok had been talking for about five minutes now. Something about how the guy who sat two rows down looked exactly like a pigeon he once rescued as a kid. Or maybe it was a goose. Taehyung wasn’t sure anymore.

He sat slouched in his chair, one leg bouncing lazily, phone cradled in his palm as his thumb scrolled with casual indifference.

The screen lit his face faintly while Hoseok continued, gesturing animatedly toward absolutely nothing in particular.

“…and I swear, the way he turns his head? It’s exactly like this—" Hoseok made an oddly specific neck movement.

As Jungkook watched the guy named ‘Hoseok’ do the .. Thing. Jimin initiated a talk with Taehyung when he finally noticed him, or both of them really. Seeing as if the other is not subtly hiding himself behind Jimin, trying his best to go unnoticed by the other. He just doesn’t like talking to people he barely knows.

“Hey Tae! Haven’t seen you in a few weeks, I’m so glad we’re in the same room this year.” He could hear Jimin say to the other.

So they are close.

Jungkook thought to himself as he looked away from them, wanting to give them privacy.

And also to wonder as to why the hell he was dragged here if he was just going to talk to him, he was still quite stuck on that part.

Taehyung gave a small smile at Jimin as he muttered, “Yeah, spent some time at my dad’s, nothing crazy.”

“Sounds good, didn’t think you’d disappear for too long,” The blonde-haired replied while also saying hello to Hoseok as he went on to sit next to him.

He looked at Jungkook and giggled at him when he saw the other looking a little awkward. He was about to tell him to sit next to him when Hoseok spoke up.

Hoseok, sitting next to Taehyung, glanced over at Jungkook standing awkwardly nearby. With a playful grin, he nudged Taehyung’s arm and said, “Hey, Jungkook! I’m Hoseok. Nice cardigan, by the way.”

Before Jungkook could respond, Hoseok pointed at the empty seat beside Taehyung. “Come on, take this spot. Don’t leave the poor guy standing,” he said as he glanced at Jimin, who was busy trying to keep his giggles in.

Taehyung rolled his eyes but said nothing, watching Jungkook hesitate for a moment before giving in.

Jungkook eased himself into the seat Hoseok pointed to, cheeks still warm from the unexpected attention.

“There you go, much better,” He heard Hoseok say as he leaned back, with a satisfied grin.

He offered him a timid smile before he let out a small huff, turning to look at Jimin from the other side, giving him a small pout before relaxing into his seat, seeing that the next professor had already entered the room.

“Uh.. should we go back?” Jungkook asks Jimin, hoping his voice is loud enough for the blonde-haired to hear.

Jimin gave him a quick glance, lips quirking into a smile. “I mean, we could,” he said, dragging the word out playfully, “but this row’s got the better view, don’t you think?”

He blinked, then nodded slowly, hands fidgeting with his skirt as he averted his attention to the professor talking about the lesson. He didn’t realize the possibility of Taehyung and Hoseok hearing their conversation, considering that they’re both in the middle of him and Jimin.

Where are the people who were supposed to be in this seat anyway?

Jungkook doesn't know. Again.

Besides him, Taehyung’s pen paused against his notebook, but he didn’t look up. Not exactly.

Silence fell for a moment, filled with notebooks clicking and pens scratching, until Hoseok broke it with a conspiratorial whisper as he leaned over to Jungkook, not caring as if Taehyung wasn’t in the middle of them both and could clearly hear him, “Don’t mind him. He just likes making new friends in dramatic fashion.”

Taehyung cleared his throat, sliding his phone into his pocket. He flipped his notebook open and met Jungkook’s eyes squarely. “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, voice low but carrying a hint of something softer underneath.

Jungkook nodded, heart fluttering at the unexpected invitation. The lecture began, but for both of them, the real lesson had already started.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Everyone packed up noisily as soon as the professor dismissed the whole class. Jungkook yawned as he stretched his arms, feeling tired already, not making any effort in getting up. Chairs scraping, conversations picking up like someone flipped a switch.

He quietly starts organizing his things, putting his purple colored notebook inside his bag. Everything about his stuff screams ‘My favorite color is purple'.

Next to him, Taehyung doesn’t move either. He stays seated, elbow on the desk, chin propped in his hand, staring ahead like he’s lost in thought, or like he just doesn’t feel like dealing with the hallway rush.

Jungkook doesn’t notice him at first, not until he zips up his bag, glancing sideways.

Their eyes meet for less than a second. Taehyung looks away first.

Meanwhile, Jungkook hesitates as he seemed to be taken aback, stepping to the aisle, he looked over to Jimin, seeing that the other was still engrossed with talking to Hoseok. Seems like he’s great at making friends, He thinks to himself.

Taehyung stands up too, still silent, his face unreadable as he slings his bag over one shoulder. They fall into step almost naturally, not walking together, but... next to each other. Neither says a word.

Their footsteps echo in sync as they exit the classroom. The hallway is crowded, but somehow, there’s a quiet bubble around them. Jimin’s voice floats somewhere behind them, laughing at something Hoseok says. But neither Jungkook nor Taehyung turns around.

Jungkook casts a quick glance to his left, eyes flicking up to the other’s face, then quickly away again when he catches the slightest flick of Taehyung’s lashes, as if he might’ve been doing the same.

The silence isn’t awkward. It’s just... full. Like something might be said, if either of them were braver. But instead, they just keep walking. Side by side.

He didn’t know how both of them got into a situation where they would be walking together side by side, Jungkook mostly kept quiet to himself, not daring to look over Taehyung's way.

Behind him, he could hear Jimin’s giggle, sharp and pointed, and when he risked a glance back, Jimin was mouthing something exaggerated while throwing a wink in his direction. Hoseok nudged him playfully, whispering something with a laugh.

Jungkook’s face turned red almost immediately. He jerked his eyes forward again, suddenly hyper aware of the distance between him and Taehyung. Not too close, but not far enough for him to ignore.

He didn’t say anything as they continued to walk, especially when the other seemed like he didn't really care about anything, shoulders relaxed, hands in pockets looking bored out of his mind. The silence between them was awfully loud, not until Taehyung spoke.

“You always walk this slow?”

Jungkook blinked, startled "Oh– uh, sorry. I didn't mean to–”

“I didn’t say I minded.” Taehyung’s voice was even Distant. A little amused, maybe.

Jungkook stayed quiet after that, heart thudding as they reached the end of the corridor.

He wasn’t sure what that meant, soon enough they took a turn to go towards the library instead of the cafeteria as none of them was hungry, except for Jungkook.

He was too shy to admit that he actually was hungry, as the other three had already decided against eating something. And maybe Jungkook was a bit stupid for not speaking up, but he can always just eat later when he feels he can’t handle the hunger any longer.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The light filtering through the windows was soft, warm, and just the right kind of sleepy. Jungkook had grabbed a random book from the shelf earlier, not that he was really reading it. His eyes moved across the page, but his stomach had other priorities. It let out a low gurgling sound. Mortifying.

He froze.

No one said anything, but he didn’t dare look up. Jimin and Hoseok were still chatting about something ridiculous across the table. Taehyung hadn’t spoken for a while, seated diagonally from him, phone in hand and seemingly uninterested. Or so Jungkook thought.

Then came a quiet scrape of a chair. “I’m going to the bathroom,” Taehyung muttered, barely lifting his eyes. He didn’t wait for a reply before walking off.

Jungkook exhaled slowly. He pressed a hand to his stomach like that would convince it to shut up, cheeks warm as he sank further into his seat. Maybe he could power through. Just ignore it.

He didn’t even notice how long Taehyung was gone until he suddenly returned, less than ten minutes later, with something in hand.

Two things, actually. A drink and a wrapped sandwich.

He plopped into his seat without a word and set the sandwich down right in front of Jungkook. “They had a promo,” he muttered, unwrapping his own food with exaggerated disinterest. “Buy one, get another half off. Would’ve been a waste.”

Jungkook blinked at the sandwich. Then at Taehyung.

“…Thank you,” he said softly, fingers brushing the wrapper as if unsure he was allowed to touch it.

“I didn’t buy it for you,” Taehyung added quickly, taking a loud bite of his own. “It just... ended up there.”

Jimin raised a brow. “You went to the bathroom.”

“Yeah, well,” Taehyung replied without looking up, “cafeteria’s closer to the exit. I changed my mind halfway.”

Hoseok covered his smile with the back of his hand, and Jimin kicked him lightly under the table. Jungkook, flustered but smiling, whispered a small thanks again as he opened the sandwich carefully. Taehyung didn’t say anything this time.

But he didn’t look away either.

Jungkook ate in small bites, careful not to make a mess on the library desk. The sandwich was warm, and Jimin and Hoseok had finally stopped whispering and were back to pretending to read, though the occasional giggles gave them away.

Across from him, Taehyung had already finished his and was back to using his phone. He had his head down, headphones on his head.

He looked completely uninterested, like he hadn’t just returned with food Jungkook was too shy to ask for, with the sandwich nearly gone, Jungkook’s gaze wandered again, just for a second.

Next to Taehyung’s elbow was a second bottle of iced tea, still sealed. He didn’t say a word, just quietly reached for it and twisted the cap open.

Taehyung didn’t look up, but Jungkook swore he saw the corner of his lip twitch, barely there.

He looked back down at his book, but the words still didn’t stick.

Chapter Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

They were on their way to the vending machines tucked near the campus amphitheater, one of those weird half-indoor, half-outdoor spots where the light hit just right and the pigeons got bold.

“—and then she looked me dead in the eye and said ‘you’re giving libra energy’ just because I asked where the syllabus was,” Jimin said dramatically, hands flying. “Can you believe that?”

Jungkook blinked. “Are you… not a libra?”

“I am,” Jimin whispered, scandalized. “But still.”

He let out a soft huff, seemingly amused by his hyung’s dramatics. Taking out his phone as they approached the vending machines Hoseok was talking about earlier in the classroom.

Ever since their interaction with the other two, they have been hanging out a lot to the point that Jimin asked for them to move seats just so the four of them could sit with each other.

Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind, or care, really. He’s always carrying his ‘Grumpy’ face seemingly everywhere he goes, you either see him looking bored out of his mind or rolling his eyes at Hoseok whenever the older would attempt to show affection, acting like he doesn’t like it.

He does, he would rather die than admit it though.

Just then, someone else's voice floated in,

“You’re gonna hate that by the way,” said a guy leaning over at the machine, “It tastes like battery acid mixed with regret.”

“That’s the point,” a tall guy spoke up, already cracking it open. Besides the long-haired looking like a .. Cat? “If I survive this, that means I can survive anything.”

The two of them turned to look at the voices. The guy drinking the said soda has a fluffy hair that has a little bit of curls into it. The one who warned him was more like a sleepy ghost with his pale complexion and a half buttoned shirt.

“Yoongi,” The pale one introduced himself with a short nod. “And that’s Jin. we’ve been here for 10 minutes and I already regret it.”

“Regret?” Jin gasps, clutching his chest looking offended. “You begged me to come with you.”

“Because you said you knew how to use the vending machines here,” Yoongi deadpanned. “You lied.

Jungkook wasn’t sure what to do. His grip on his phone tightened slightly as he lowered it, the corner of his mouth twitching in a shy, confused almost-smile. Were they actually arguing? Or was that just how they talked?

He didn’t know if he was supposed to laugh, or reply, or pretend he hadn't heard them.

So he did what he always did. He blinked, looking at Jimin, and stayed quiet.

Jimin was already grinning as he heard both of them bickering, clearly enjoying the chaos. He turned slightly, like he was about to say something, when someone else joined them.

Hoseok practically bounced to them, saying something ridiculous again. He realizes that that’s just how Hoseok was built.

“Okay but if squirrels ever unionize, we’re doomed,”

He announced with the urgency of a man who had thought way too hard about it. “I saw one steal a whole slice of pizza once. A slice, Jimin.”

Everyone turned to look, Yoongi paused mid-sip of whatever radioactive drink Jin gave him. Even Jin looked mildly impressed while Jungkook blinked, again. He’s always so puzzled with whatever’s coming out of the other’s mouth. But he finds it hilarious nonetheless. Come on–

Jimin laughed immediately, “Hyung what are you talking about?”

“They’re organizing!” Hoseok continued, completely serious.

Jungkook looked overwhelmed, wide eyes darting between Hoseok’s animated hands and the rest of the group, like he was trying to figure out if he was supposed to respond or just quietly accept that this was his life now. Hoseok finally noticed the two unfamiliar faces and did a double take.

“Oh. Hi,” he said to Yoongi and Jin, recovering like he hadn’t just yelled about squirrel unions in public. “I’m Hoseok.”

Yoongi slowly nods at him, “Noted.”

“That was a lot,” Jin said, raising his can in greeting. “I like it.”

He shifted slightly, almost itching backward without trying to, And then like fate wanted to turn up the awkwardness dial just a little more, he felt it. A shift in the air. Calmer. Heavier. He didn’t need to look to know who it was.

Taehyung walked up to them, holding his backpack strap. Expression unclear. He didn’t even announce himself, Just stopped beside Hoseok like he’d been there the whole time.

Jungkook tried his best not to look, but unfortunately, he did look. Just for a split second.

Their eyes meet. It was brief.

Why do they keep making eye contact? Jungkook thinks, panicked, as he immediately tears his gaze away again. His fingers twitch slightly at his sides before he shuffles to face the other way, pretending to be suddenly very interested in the two new people he hadn’t properly acknowledged.

He offers them a small, polite smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and then gently tugs at Jimin’s sleeve.

“We’re gonna be late,” he mumbles. “I just— I need to check my locker real quick.

He doesn’t wait for a response. Instead, he wraps his hand around Jimin’s arm and walks off with determined urgency, almost dragging the other with him. His head ducks as they pass the group, and he manages a quick, awkward bow in their direction.

He’s not impolite. He tells himself as his ears burn. Just… easily overwhelmed. That’s all.

They weaved through the campus walkway, passing clusters of students lounging under trees and sitting on shaded benches.

The vending area slowly faded behind them, along with the sound of Jin's dramatic gasps and Yoongi’s tired one-liners.

“Locker?” Jimin echoed with a chuckle as they rounded a corner. “You know our next class is starting soon, right?” “I know,” Jungkook mumbled, gaze fixed ahead. “I just… had to go.”

When they finally reached the hallway where the student lockers lined one side, Jungkook slowed his steps. He stopped in front of his own and stared at the lock for a second too long before fiddling with it, hands slightly shaky.

Jimin leaned against the wall beside him, watching. After a moment Jungkook finally spoke, still quiet, almost like he was trying not to let the words exist too loudly. “I didn’t mean to pull you away like that…”

he said. “I just.. didn’t know what to say back there.” Jimin smiled at him, fixing his position he muttered, “it’s okay, you don’t have to explain.”

Meanwhile, back at the vending machines, the others remained standing. Staring at each other as Yoongi and Jin continue sipping their sodas. Silence engulfed the four of them until Jin broke the silence with an obnoxious laugh, a loud, dramatic laugh, startling a few passing students.

“Did they just ghost us?” he said, trying to lighten up the mood around them, not wanting to be awkward any longer.

“Don’t be stupid,” Yoongi gave him a side glance and muttered, “You scared the poor guy.”

“I did not,” Jin gasped, offended. “You’re the one who opened with ‘battery acid mixed with regret.’ That’s not exactly a soft welcome.”

“It was accurate,” Yoongi said, casually tossing the empty can into the bin without missing a beat.

Hoseok, who had been staring in the direction Jungkook and Jimin had vanished. He tilted his head as he turned to look at Taehyung, “You think they’re okay?”

The other didn’t say anything. He just stood there, hands in his pockets, looking vaguely annoyed. Or thoughtful. Or both, it was hard to tell with him.

“They said something about a locker,” Taehyung offers as he removes his hands in his pocket, arms crossed, tone dry and completely unbothered.

Causing Jin to lean over to him with a grin acting as if they were close, “That your way of saying you were paying attention to everything the cute one said?”

He glanced at him, a scowl on his face. “No.”

Hoseok slapped a hand over his mouth like he’d just gasped. “Do you have a thing for him?”

"Shut up,” Taehyung muttered.

“I knew it,” Jin whispered like he’d just uncovered a state secret.

Taehyung looked up at the sky like he was praying for strength. Or maybe for an actual ghost to come and drag him away.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jungkook flushed. “They were staring.”

“They were literally just existing,” Jimin replied, “Well the— handsome one was being dramatic and the other one? Definitely born grumpy, kinda reminds me of Taehyung, but they weren’t staring.”

“I don’t know them,” Jungkook mumbled, still avoiding eye contact.

“You don’t know me that well either," Jimin had muttered, clearly teasing the younger. "and yet here we are. Best friends now, apparently.”

“I panicked,” Jungkook whispered, then winced at his own words.

Jimin huffed a laugh. “Well, you’re lucky you’re cute.”

Just then, a loud buzz echoed faintly from a distance, the class bell, familiar by now, yet still capable of catching Jungkook off guard.

He paused, one hand resting lightly on the edge of his locker door, lost in a moment that felt suspended in routine. He didn’t have time to reply to his hyung as he saw that some students were already making their way to the elevator.

Sighing, he closed his locker with a faint thud. His locker doesn’t have that much of his stuff as he prefers to put some of his things inside his bag anyway, but he makes sure it still looks clean and presentable.

He thinks he might have an obsession with keeping everything neat and clean, that’s just how he wants things to be.

Three weeks into the semester, the rhythms of university life had begun to settle. The initial chaos of navigating hallways, and avoiding awkward introductions had given way to something quieter.

Around him, the hallway stirred to life again. Groups of students peeled away from benches and walls, conversations rising in volume as they prepared to flood the elevators. Jungkook didn’t move.

He kept his eyes on the scratches near the locker’s handle, fingers twitching at his side. “How much time do we have, hyung?” he asked the other.

"10 minutes, Mrs. Kang’s always late,” the older answered.

Beside him, Jimin was already humming under his breath, probably already calculating whether they should sprint to beat the elevator rush or just take the stairs.

Jungkook stretched, muttering something about their classroom being on the last floor. Exhausting. He thinks, with Jimin nodding at him with an annoyed huff. They weren’t late. Not yet. But they were close.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jungkook pushed the door open with Jimin right behind him, panting ever so slightly from their climb. Glancing over where their professor should be, to their relief, Mrs. Kang hadn't arrived yet. Eight floors, no elevator, and the weight of punctuality on their backs.

All because they didn’t want to be late. He was still catching his breath, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, when he spotted them.

Hoseok and Taehyung. Already seated.

What?

He blinked and looked again, unsure if his eyes were playing tricks on him. How did they get here already? He thought hard. Maybe they took the elevator? But no, he and Jimin had seen people waiting for it downstairs..

Jungkook’s eyes darted between them, trying to figure it out.

Taehyung didn’t even look his way, his chin propped on his hand, scribbling in his notebook like he was born to sit here and look cool. Hoseok smiled brightly and waved at him, as if saying, “Hey, no big deal!”

His cheeks warmed and he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

He padded into the room in loose, flowy pants that swayed with each uncertain step, the fabric barely brushing his ankles. His sweater hung a little big on him, pink and soft-looking, with sleeves that nearly swallowed his hands. It made him look like he’d been hugged by clouds and hadn’t quite figured out how to escape. The whole outfit gave him the air of someone who hadn’t meant to look adorable but somehow did anyway.

Sitting down beside Taehyung over the last few weeks has been…interesting. The other didn’t really bother him much, didn’t start conversations or anything. Whenever Taehyung did talk, it was usually with that usual irritated tone, like Jungkook was some minor inconvenience he just had to tolerate..

Jungkook just thought of it as the other being annoyed with his existence, especially if he’s that close to him.

Sometimes, when Taehyung glanced over, Jungkook felt his chest flutter a bit, but he quickly told himself it was probably just from sitting too long or maybe because he hadn’t eaten enough. Yeah, that had to be it. Nothing to think about.

And that strange feeling in his stomach? Probably just nerves from classes or maybe he just needed more sleep. Definitely not because of Taehyung.

He wasn’t even sure why he was overthinking it. Maybe it was just his imagination running wild again. Best to just ignore it and focus on the next lecture.

Simple as that.

Taehyung lounged in his seat, phone in hand, he wasn’t even trying to hide how uninterested he was in the classroom chatter or Jungkook who had just arrived and was seated next to him. Honestly, he was just killing time, scrolling through whatever app he just opened while also grumbling about their professor running late again.

He likes to learn okay. Whatever.

Suddenly, Jimin’s voice breaks through, light and teasing. “Hey tae! How did you guys get here so fast? You were with those guys Jin and Yoongi earlier right? We just took the stairs.”

“We just moved faster.” Taehyung mumbles to him without even looking up, Then continues scrolling, his tone flat but not rude.

Jimin snorted, clearly amused with Taehyung’s casual dismissal. Jungkook shifted beside him, cheeks warming, probably trying to figure out if Tae’s answer was a joke or just plain disinterest. Taehyung barely noticed.

The last echo of the professor’s voice faded into the hum of shifting chairs and rustling papers. Jungkook tucked his notebook into his bag, fingers trembling just a little as he caught sight of Taehyung already glued to his phone, his face unreadable as always.

The quiet buzz of the bustling hallway wrapped around them, but Jungkook felt a strange bubble of stillness between them.

Jimin stood up and walked over to Jungkook, his tone low and earnest. “Hey, I need to ask the professor something real quick. Could you wait here for a bit? I won’t be long.”

Jungkook nodded shyly, smiling softly. “Y—yeah, sure.”

The blonde-haired flashed him a reassuring smile, nodding to Taehyung and Hoseok. “You two can head to the cafeteria first, we’ll catch up soon.” The grumpy man didn’t look up from his phone but gave a slight nod, while Hoseok grinned and waved.

“Go on,” Hoseok said with a teasing tone. “We’ll save you some food.”

As Jimin walked towards the professor’s desk, Taehyung and Hoseok moved through the crowded hallways with ease, weaving past groups of students chatting and laughing.While both decided to use the stairs instead of the elevator.

When they entered the cafeteria, the place was packed. Almost every table was full, the noise of dozens of conversations filling the air. Taehyung’s eyes scanned the room dispassionately, lips pressed in a thin line.

“There.” Hoseok pointed toward a table that was in the corner, where two guys sat quietly, Jin and Yoongi. The spot looked almost like an afterthought in the busy cafeteria, tucked away enough to avoid the noise.

Taehyung gave a small glance, “Looks like that’s our best bet.” he said flatly.

Hoseok snickered beside Taehyung as they scanned the crowded cafeteria. Every table was packed, except one. With a shrug, Hoseok made his way over, sliding into the only available seat next to the guy named Jin.

Jin barely glanced up but offered a small nod in acknowledgment. Yoongi, sitting beside him, seemed completely absorbed in his food, lazily taking a bite without much interest in his surroundings.

Taehyung dropped into the seat across from them, quietly observing the trio. He didn’t know Jin and Yoongi well, actually, he barely knew anything about them. But it was the only spot left. The low murmur of students and the clatter of trays filled the cafeteria as the four settled in.

Deciding to just wait outside of the classroom, quietly fiddling with his bag strap. Jungkook’s heart thudded lightly as he spotted Jimin returning, the blonde waving him over with a grin.

“Thanks for waiting,” Jimin said, pulling him along toward the elevator, entering as the operator noticed them and waited. Thanking and giving a small bow, they exit the elevator as the both go to the cafeteria.

The noise grew louder as they approached, causing Jungkook’s eyes to widen slightly at the crowded hall.

They spotted the group instantly, Hoseok chatting with Jin as they both seem comfortable with each other now. And of course, Taehyung was only sitting quietly, observing. He thinks as they approach them, Jimin waved over “Hey– Oh, It’s you guys,”

Jungkook’s voice was barely above a whisper as he asked, “Is it okay if we sit here?”

Jin looked up with a soft grin, the warmth in his expression catching Jungkook a little off guard. “Of course,” he said, scooting his tray slightly to the side in a welcoming gesture.

His gaze immediately flicked to the open seats. One was directly beside Taehyung, who was now leaning back in his chair, phone in hand with his usual bored expression, and the other was a single chair away from him.

Obviously, he chose the latter. Taking one step toward it, hands fidgeting on his sweater. When Jimin, the little shit that he is, blissfully smiling as swooped in and dropped himself into that very seat.

“Thanks,” He chirped, clearly very pleased with himself.

“Wha—” Jungkook couldn’t finish his words as he stared at Jimin in disbelief.

Taehyung, who had been scrolling on his phone, shifted slightly. Not enough to make it obvious, barely a breath of movement, but enough to glance Jungkook’s way for the briefest second.

His eyes flicked up, then quickly down again, ears turning an unmistakable shade of pink. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to.

He tilted his phone slightly higher, as if the brightness from the screen could somehow hide the color rising to his face.

Jungkook didn’t notice. Of course he didn’t.

All he saw was the silent boy beside him, eyes glued to his screen, expression unreadable.

He hesitated for a second longer, then shuffled over and sat down gingerly, like the chair might hiss at him.

The second Jungkook lowered himself into the seat beside him, posture stiff and hands neatly folded in his lap, His whole body facing exactly 45 degrees away from the boy beside him.

Taehyung leaned a fraction farther back, phone tilted higher, like it had suddenly become fascinating. He didn’t dare look again.

Across the table, Hoseok took a slow bite of food, eyes flicking between the two with growing amusement. He didn't comment, just let out a small chuckle into his spoon like he’d just witnessed something better than TV.

Jin, on the other hand, outright cackled.

“Was that strategic seating?” he said with a gleeful look at Jimin, who only hummed and reached for a napkin, playing it off.

“You’re evil. I respect that.” The blonde huffs out a laugh as he takes a glance at Jungkook, seeing him so stiff and awkward only fuels Jimin’s urge to continue teasing him.

Yoongi merely raised an eyebrow and sipped from his drink, eyes sharp but vaguely entertained. “Bet you ten bucks that one of them combusts before midterms.”

Nobody asked which “one” he meant.

Jungkook sat very, very still, the side of his arm just barely brushing Taehyung’s.

Taehyung didn’t move.

Not away, at least.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

It wasn’t the first time this happened.

Jungkook poked at the edge of his empty tray, head tilted slightly as he glanced toward Jimin, who was currently deep in a conversation with Hoseok about some new campus dance club. Laughter spilled from the table, but Jungkook’s thoughts were elsewhere.

Why does he keep doing that?

His eyes flicked to Taehyung beside him, who, as always, in practiced silence. Sipping on his mango drink that he got earlier, acting like he was above it all. Which, in fairness, he might be. He had this way of existing like he didn’t need to participate in the chaos around him unless it directly inconvenienced him.

Jungkook chewed on his bottom lip. It's not like I mind sitting next to him… it’s just… weird. Right?

He looked down at his once-empty tray, surprised to find a muffin sitting there, courtesy of Jin, apparently. He thanked him, quietly peeling the wrapper with the kind of focus only someone completely unaware of how adorable they looked could manage.

Jimin had been weirdly insistent, whether it was dragging him to sit somewhere, or steering him through a crowd by the shoulders, or slipping away mid-conversation just long enough for Jungkook to end up alone with a very tired, very unreadable Taehyung.

And now that he thought about it… it kind of started on their second day.

Jungkook was juggling his books against his chest, trying not to drop anything while Jimin “suddenly remembered” he left his phone somewhere and slipped away. Before Jungkook could even adjust his grip, Taehyung appeared beside him, wordless as always, and without so much as a glance, took half the stack from his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world, then kept walking, leaving Jungkook quietly blinking after him.

Or when Jimin offered to help Jungkook find a classroom, only to say, “You go ahead– I’ll catch up,” and somehow Taehyung was already there, leaning on the wall beside the door like he’d been forced to babysit a lost puppy.

He squinted. Clueless. Maybe I’m just imagining it. Jimin wouldn’t… Right?

Right?

There was no way his friend was trying to push him toward someone who clearly didn’t even like him that much. Taehyung was always annoyed when Jungkook spoke, always had that little wrinkle between his brows like Jungkook had said something wrong even when he hadn’t spoken at all.

He sighed.

Maybe Jimin just likes watching me suffer. That sounds more like it.

Taehyung barely lifted his eyes from his phone as he heard the shuffle of trays and scrape of chairs.

“We’ll go ahead,” Jimin chirped, his voice light but purposeful as he glanced at Jungkook beside him.

The younger had gone quiet, shoulders slightly hunched, fingers tugging at the hem of his sweater like it might anchor him. Jimin didn’t miss the way he kept glancing down, clearly drifting out of the group’s energy.

“We’ll head back to the room first” He gently tugged Jungkook’s hand who only nodded at him before glancing back to the others, giving a soft polite smile as he bid them goodbyes. “Um.. bye, hyungs,” Yeah, Hyungs. They’re all older than him by a year or two.

Taehyung didn’t respond, just flicked his gaze upward long enough to confirm that yes, they were leaving. Jungkook glanced his way, for a second, maybe less, and he immediately looked back down at his screen, thumb scrolling over nothing.

Whatever.

The cafeteria didn’t get any quieter, but it felt like it did. The table lost a bit of its energy the second the two of them walked away. Not that Taehyung noticed. Not that it mattered.

Totally fine.

Totally.

“Aw,” Hoseok said, dragging the word out like he was cooing over a baby animal. Perhaps he is? “You miss your little lost mushroom already?”

Taehyung’s eye twitched, “My what.”

“You know, tiny, soft, easily confused… kind of like he got plucked out of a fairy forest and doesn’t know where the bus stop is?”

Jin snorted, nearly choking on his drink. “That's actually kind of accurate.”

“He looks like he’s one wrong turn away from ending up in the chemistry department by mistake,” Yoongi added with a deadpan nod.

“I don’t care where he ends up,” Taehyung muttered. “He can go to space for all I care.”

“Sure,” Hoseok said cheerfully. “As long as you’re his emergency contact.”

Taehyung picked up a fry and bit into it like it personally offended him. He wasn’t about to defend himself. That would just make things worse. He wasn’t watching the cafeteria door. He just glanced at it now and then.

The conversation had drifted from cafeteria food to how terrifying their philosophy professor looked when angry, and somehow, inevitably, it circled back to Jungkook.

“Even though he looks completely clueless most of the time,” Yoongi said offhandedly, like he was just stating a weather report, “he’s very pretty.”

Taehyung’s hand froze mid-reach for his drink.

Yoongi didn't even blink. “Like, angel-faced, bright-eyed, walks-into-walls kind of pretty.” he mutters, not noticing the man in front who was trying to drink his mango shake in all at once.

Next to him, Jin wheezed, “that’s oddly specific,”

He rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell out of his head. “Can you all not talk about his face like you’re reviewing it for a magazine?”

“Oh?” Jin wiggled his eyebrows. “Getting defensive?”

“I’m not defensive,” Taehyung snapped, immediately defensive. “I just don’t think you need to talk about his face like that.”

“So you do like his face,” Hoseok chimed in with a shit-eating grin.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t deny it,” Yoongi pointed out helpfully.

Jin leaned in across the table, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You should just tell him you like him. Confess dramatically. Declare your undying love on the rooftop or something.”

Taehyung looked like he was about to melt into his seat. “I’ll set myself on fire before I do that.”

“Bold,” Jin nodded at him, seemingly pleased. “But unnecessary.”

“Better idea!” Hoseok interrupted with a gleam in his eye. “Love letters. Stuff them in his locker like we’re in a cheesy 90s high school drama.”

“I will choke you with a pen.”

“You’ll need the pen to write the letters,” Hoseok said brightly.

Leaning back, Yoongi, sipping his drink like he was watching a favorite drama unfold. “Honestly, I’d pay to see this.”

Taehyung slumped forward onto the table. “This is why I don’t talk.” He grumbles to himself as he leaned back with his arms crossed, looking annoyed with his furrowed eyebrows.

In his head, though he’d die before saying it aloud, he wondered if Jungkook would even recognize a love letter if it smacked him in the face. Probably not.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Taehyung sat on his bed, a pencil twirling between his fingers and a crumpled mess of rejected drafts beside him. His room was dimly lit except for the soft glow of his desk lamp, casting long shadows across his wall. Music played low from his phone, but he hadn’t registered a single lyric in the past hour.

The letter he was working on wasn’t… technically a love letter. Just something casual. Normal. A simple message from one classmate to another. Not weird. Not obsessive. Definitely not signed with his name (because that would be stupid).

“If you don’t stop staring at me like you have no idea what’s going on, I might actually lose my mind. Don’t expect me to help you.”

Taehyung sighed and pushed it away. Too harsh.

“You’re annoying. Stop being so clueless all the time. Not that I care or anything.”

He scowled, tore the paper off, and balled it up.

“I guess it’s fine that you’re around, but don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not here because I like you or anything stupid like that. Just... don’t screw things up.”

He smirked a little, but no. Too sappy.

After another few tries that included insults about Jungkook’s “ridiculous haircut,” his “awkward walking style,” and a weird metaphor involving a cat stuck in a tree, Taehyung flopped his head on the desk, frustrated.

“Why is this so hard?” he muttered. “It’s just a stupid letter.”

The next morning, Taehyung left earlier than usual. No Hoseok in sight, no usual banter. He walked through the campus gate with his hood up and earbuds in, though nothing was playing. Just for effect. The hallways were mostly empty, perfect.

He made his way to the row of lockers assigned to their department, scanning names with surgical focus. He skimmed quickly past unfamiliar labels, heart thudding harder the closer he got. And then– There.

Jeon Jungkook.

Top row, third from the right. The nameplate was clean, unassuming. Of course it was. Typical Jungkook.

He glanced around once, as if expecting someone. No one. He slid the envelope in with one swift, practiced motion. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.

Done.

He stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets, trying not to look proud of himself. Or guilty. or anything at all. Then he turned on his heel and walked away like he hadn’t just committed a low-key romantic felony before 8 AM.

Jungkook stepped into the school building, the soft swish of his pleated denim skirt brushing lightly against his legs.

He wore a pastel shirt that matched the quiet hopefulness bubbling inside him. Today felt like a good day, even if his nerves didn’t always agree.

Making his way down the noisy hallway, he kept his eyes on the familiar lockers until he stopped in front of his own. Opening it as he scanned and that’s when he spotted it, a small, neat envelope, its edges crisp and clean. It definitely hadn’t been there yesterday. His fingers trembled a little as he picked it up and peeled it open, revealing a short letter written in tidy, almost hesitant handwriting.

To the light you carry,

"In a world that rushes by, you bloom like a gentle whisper, soft, bright, and quietly unforgettable."

His cheeks warmed as he read on, the words feeling like a gentle breeze on a nervous day.

"You don’t have to know me, or even look up, just keep shining in your own way, because someone sees you, and hopes you never stop."

— "Someone who cares."

He looked around the empty hallway, clutching the envelope like it was something fragile and precious.

Someone who cares, he read again, wondering if it was meant for him.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but confusion swirled inside his chest. Who would leave this here? Was it meant for me?

He shook his head lightly, trying to brush off the strange flutter in his stomach. Maybe it was just misplaced… Or maybe I’m just overthinking it, as usual. With one last glance at the letter, he carefully folded it and tucked it inside his notebook, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary.

Whatever this was, it made the day feel a little less daunting, mysterious, yes, but kind in a way that made him want to believe.

Jungkook closed his locker with a soft click, the corridor still quiet in the early hour. As he neared the elevators, he blinked in mild surprise. No line. That’s weird… he thought, slowing slightly. He was early, sure, but the elevators were usually a battlefield by this hour.

He hovered in front of the closed doors, glancing briefly at his reflection in the faint metal sheen. Just as he adjusted his bag's strap on his shoulder, he heard footsteps approaching from the hallway to his left, unhurried and even.

“Hey,” came a warm, familiar voice.

Turning to find Jin strolling toward him, a cup of canned coffee in one hand and his messenger bag slung across his shoulder. His shirt was slightly rumpled in a charming way, as if he got ready in five minutes but still somehow looked like a magazine ad.

“Good morning, hyung,” Jungkook greeted, bowing slightly out of habit.

Jin raised his coffee in a half-salute. “You’re early today.” He nodded, tucking his hands into his skirt’s pocket “I, um… wanted to beat the rush.”

He glanced at the elevator panel, then at Jungkook. “Eighth floor?” he asked, even though he already knew.

Jungkook nodded for the second time. “Seventh for you, right?”

“Yep. I always forget how close we are,” Jin replied, popping the tab on his drink. “Lucky you, being one floor higher. That’s, like, ten percent more scenic hallway.”

He giggled softly. “I think the little vending machine on your floor has better snacks.” Jungkook said to the older before thinking back about what Jin had said with him being lucky to be on the last floor. It’s horrible.

Jin gasped, mock-offended. “Take that back. Ours hasn’t had strawberry milk in a week. Yours still gets restocked properly. You live in luxury.” Before Jungkook could reply, the elevator dinged. Empty.

“Wow,” Jin said, stepping in. “Is this… peace?”

He followed, standing to the right side, hands now gripping his bag straps tightly as he thought about the envelope folded neatly between the pages of his notebook. His fingers had brushed it again when he’d reached for his pens earlier as he was fixing the inside of his bag.

The two stood in a comfortable silence until the elevator dinged again. As the doors opened on the seventh floor, Jin stepped out and turned slightly.

“See you upstairs, Koo.” he said with a small smile.

“Bye, hyung.” Jungkook wrinkled his nose cutely as he murmured, watching the doors close again.

And then he was alone, the quiet hum of the elevator matching the soft thrum of curiosity in his chest. His gaze dropped to his bag, where the note was placed patiently, mysterious, gentle, and somehow still echoing in his thoughts.

The elevator gave a final ding before sliding open, revealing the eighth floor bathed in soft morning light. He stepped out, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. His fingers grazed the faint shimmer of gloss on his bottom lip, just to check if it was still there. It was silly, maybe, but he liked putting in the effort. It made the morning feel more put together.

As he pushed open the classroom door, the cool air greeted him first, followed by the low buzz of conversation. The room wasn’t full yet, just a few students scattered in their seats, some heads down, others half-asleep.

Hoseok was already in his usual seat, bright and relaxed as always, earbuds dangling and one foot bouncing under the desk.Taehyung was next to him, slouched slightly with one arm on the desk, scrolling through his phone. He’s starting to think the other is just obsessed with using his phone.

Jungkook made his way down the aisle, quiet as ever, clutching his bag to his chest.

He glanced around, no sign of Jimin. Huh. He was probably running late or grabbing coffee somewhere.

Without a word, Jungkook slipped into the seat next to Taehyung, his arm brushing lightly against the older boy’s arm as he adjusted himself.

Taehyung didn’t look up. but his thumb paused on the screen for a fraction of a second.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Taehyung had been pretending not to look.

That was the plan, keep his eyes on his phone, ignore the way his pulse jumped at the sound of Jungkook’s footsteps, and absolutely do not glance up when the boy walked in. That was his strategy. Unbothered. Untouched. Unmoved.

Except.

Jungkook walked in with that stupidly soft energy again, like he hadn’t just unknowingly ruined Taehyung’s entire morning. Hair neatly styled, lips with a hint of something glossy, what even was that? Lip oil? Cherry balm? Why did he know the difference?

He swallowed hard and kept scrolling on his phone, pretending to read an article he’d opened for appearances. It was about memory and stress responses, ironically fitting, since his brain had been malfunctioning ever since he slid that letter into Jungkook’s locker earlier.

The letter. Oh god.

Had Jungkook seen it already?

He felt the heat crawl up the back of his neck just thinking about it. What if he’d opened it right there in the hallway? What if he’d read it and knew? What if he’d figured it out?

He didn’t sign it. He made sure not to. The handwriting was neat but generic enough, right? Not overly dramatic. It was fine. Totally casual. Soft but vague. Poetic but not too poetic. Definitely not “I’m into you” poetic. Just... gentle. Weird. A little cowardly.

He shouldn’t have written it.

He really shouldn’t have written it.

He really really shouldn’t have written–

Then Jungkook sat down beside him, his sleeve brushing lightly against Taehyung’s arm. And Taehyung, mid spiral, felt his entire body freeze. His thumb stopped scrolling. His shoulders tensed. Their arms were close. Close enough that if he tilted just slightly, their elbows would touch. He and Jungkook have always sat together, he doesn’t know why he’s so… nervous?

Had Jungkook read it? Taehyung thought to himself while he managed to snap out of his frozen state. So stupid. He clicks on his tongue, cursing at himself for acting like a deranged person when all Jungkook did was sit close to him. Not like the other had a choice anyway.

Was this how he was reacting? All normal and polite and shiny? He dared a half-second glance, eyes flicking sideways without turning his head.

Jungkook was just... opening his pencil case. Calmly pulling out his pastel highlighters, oblivious as ever. No weird looks. No confrontation. No "Hey did you put this in my locker?" or "Why did someone write me poetry like it’s 2009?"

He knows that’s the complete opposite of Jungkook but– Let a guy ramble.

Taehyung slowly exhaled through his nose. Okay. Maybe he hadn’t read it yet. Or maybe he had and just didn’t get it. Which, honestly, was kind of worse. He scowled at his phone, still not reading a single word on the screen. His brain was running in circles and none of them were helping.

It wasn’t exactly ideal to be thinking about so many things at once, especially not this early in the morning.

He clenched his jaw, tried to lean back in his chair like nothing was wrong. Like he wasn’t about to spontaneously combust from sheer emotional whiplash.

He was cool. He was composed. and he absolutely, definitely wasn’t sitting here wondering if Jungkook thought the letter was stupid.

Nope. Not at all.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Chapter Text

The library was quiet, afternoon light filtering softly through the windows as Jungkook sat tucked into his usual corner seat. His denim skirt brushed lightly against the edge of the chair, and his bag spilled colorful pens across the table. But he wasn’t studying. He was rereading the letter. For the fifth time.

He traced the neat handwriting with his eyes, silently mouthing a few lines.

“You don’t have to know me, or even look up... just keep shining in your own way…”

It made his cheeks feel warm, and his heart beat in this weird, fluttery way he wasn’t used to. The more he read it, the more his mind spun in circles. Was this really for him? And who even wrote something like this? He was just folding the letter up again, carefully, like it was made of glass, when a voice interrupted him.

“Whoaaa... What’s that?”

Jungkook flinched, looking over his shoulder and seeing Jimin leaning over him, grinning.

“Is that a…” Jimin paused for a second, eyes skimming over the words, “letter?”

“No–!” Jungkook squeaked, trying to shove the paper back into his bag, but it was too late.

Jimin had already plucked it off the table with lightning speed.

“Hyung, give it back!–" he lunged for it, trying his best to grab the letter. But Jimin was already reading the first line out loud, eyes twinkling mischievously.

"To the light you carry~” Oh my god, Jungkook– this is so romantic“

That’s when the rest of the group walked into the library. Hoseok was mid-laugh, Jin had just finished saying something loud enough to earn a glare from the librarian, and Taehyung trailed behind them, earphones tucked lazily into his hoodie. But the second they turned the corner, their chatter died down in unison.

There, in the far corner of the room, was Jungkook, red-faced, hair slightly messy from scrambling, and Jimin, standing triumphantly on the other side of the table, holding what looked very much like a handwritten letter over his head like it was a sacred treasure

“Oh?” Jin raised an eyebrow, lips already twitching. “What’s this? a lovers’ quarrel?”

“Is that a love letter?” Yoongi added dryly, peering over Jin’s shoulder with mild interest, like this kind of drama was just part of his day now.

Jungkook froze. His hand was still halfway in the air, like he hadn’t decided whether to snatch the letter or curl up under the table. “It’s not! I mean– It’s nothing!”

“Oh, it’s definitely something,” Jimin grinned, still holding the letter just out of reach. “And it’s cute. Like, really cute.”

Taehyung stopped at the edge of the group, a little slower than the rest. His eyes landed on the letter in Jimin’s hand, then flicked to Jungkook’s flushed face. He stiffened before looking away, sliding his hands into his hoodie pocket like it was nothing to him. Like he didn’t recognize the handwriting on the page Jimin was waving around. He sat down at the nearest chair without a word, pulling a book from his bag and flipping it open upside down.

Jin looked delighted. “A love letter?” he said, already pulling out a chair. “Do you know who it’s from?”

Jungkook ducked his head. “No... It was just in my locker... It’s probably a mistake!” he blurted, a little too loud for a library. The words tumbled out before he could stop them, and he immediately winced, shrinking further into his seat as if that might undo the volume, and the embarrassment.

His voice cracked a little at the end, which only made Yoongi chuckle. Jimin finally mercifully returned the letter, giving Jungkook a pat on the head as he sat down beside him. The group slowly settled around the table, conversation shifting toward assignments and lunch plans, but Jungkook stayed quiet, the letter now tucked carefully back into his notebook.

Hoseok narrowed his eyes at the man in front of him.

Across the table, Taehyung hadn’t turned a page.

Later, when Jimin had gone off to talk to another classmate and Jungkook went to print something for their class, the remaining four sat around the table sipping their drinks they bought from the vending machines just outside the library. The silence hung for a beat... until Hoseok broke it, lips curling into a grin.

“I can’t believe it,” He muttered, going over to sit beside Taehyung, nudging him with a smirk tugging at his lips. “You actually did it.”

Taehyung didn’t bother looking up, his fingers absently twisting the cap of his strawberry milk back and forth. He took a slow sip, eyes narrowing just slightly beneath his lashes.

“Did what,” he said, voice calm but with a faint edge of challenge.

Hoseok’s grin widened, and he lowered his voice even more, as if sharing a scandalous secret. “The letter,” he breathed, glancing around to make sure no one else was eavesdropping. “You used my advice.” His shoulders shook with quiet laughter.

Sliding into the seat across them with a sigh, dragging his sleeve across his mouth before speaking. Yoongi’s voice was laced with skepticism, lips twitching as if holding back a smirk.

“Wait. That was real advice?” Without missing a beat, Hoseok threw his head back and laughed, his eyes crinkling.

“Obviously! I told him to keep it old-school. Slip a note in the locker, anonymous and all that. Classic move.” He snapped his fingers for emphasis, then gave Taehyung a teasing look.

“Didn’t think he’d actually have the guts.”

Jin, who’d been quietly unwrapping his sandwich, paused mid-bite. His eyes went wide and he nearly dropped his food. “Wait. Are we talking about Jungkook’s letter?” He raised an eyebrow and fixed Taehyung with a knowing stare. “You wrote that?”

Taehyung let out a slow breath, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms tightly over his chest. His gaze drifted to the ceiling, lips pressed into a line as if plotting an escape.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said flatly, voice low and deliberately vague while Hoseok couldn’t contain himself any longer. He threw his head back and burst out laughing, clutching his stomach.

His fingers tightened around his strawberry milk bottle, condensation slick against his palms. He stared down at it as if it held all the answers, the quiet buzz of the room fading around him. The memory of Jungkook earlier, the way his cheeks had flushed, how his hands had trembled slightly as he tried to pull the letter away from Jimin, played over and over in his mind.

He could still hear Jimin’s loud teasing voice, reading the letter out loud with exaggerated drama, “To the light you carry~”

Taehyung’s throat tightened, and he whispered, barely audible, “...I’m doomed.”

Hoseok grinned widely and clapped Taehyung firmly on the back, making the bottle rattle. “Hopeless,” he said cheerfully, voice full of warmth and teasing promise.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jungkook sat near the end of their row, hunched over his notes, lips slightly pursed as he copied down diagrams with a highlighter that was just a bit too faint. The classroom buzzed faintly with the rustle of notebooks and quiet shuffles of students shifting in their seats. The midday lecture dragged on, sunlight slanting lazily through the high windows.

Jimin, the one sitting beside him instead of Taehyung, as they had just finished a two-person activity. He noticed the way Jungkook kept fiddling with his highlighters and leaned toward him.

“You okay?” Jimin whispered, nudging his shoulder with the edge of his elbow. Jungkook blinked and looked at his side.

“Yeah. Just... forgot my wallet,” he admitted quietly, giving a sheepish little grin. “I left it at home this morning. I’ll be fine.”

That made Jimin frown as he shifted in his seat, mouth opening as he muttered, “so you haven’t eaten?”

He shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. “I had water, I’ll just eat later when I get home.”

Next to them, Taehyung hadn’t moved, but his eyes slid subtly in Jungkook’s direction. He had his chin resting in his hand, looking thoroughly uninterested in the lecture, as it wasn’t really his favorite, but he caught every word.

His brows furrowed slightly. He turned his head the other way and muttered, flatly, to the professor.“Sir, may I go to the restroom?”

The professor barely glanced at him before nodding.

Taehyung stood up casually from his chair, stretching like it was just an excuse to get up. His hoodie was slung over one shoulder as he strolled out of the classroom, hands in his pockets..

But he didn’t go to the bathroom.

The cafeteria had mostly emptied out, just a few lingering students scattered at tables or loitering by the sides. Taehyung walked through with quiet precision, his eyes scanning over the shelves and trays without hesitation. He wasn’t even sure why he cared, why it mattered, but he grabbed a sandwich, the kind he remembered Jungkook ordering once. Then he added a small bottle of banana milk, pausing by the drink cooler for a moment too long.

Just as he was about to head toward the counter, he spotted a small bag of chocolate chip cookies. He hesitated, then grabbed that too.

He sat down at one of the empty tables nearby, pulled a small notepad from his hoodie pocket, and started writing. The pen hovered for a second, unsure.

Then he wrote, slowly and carefully, pausing to cross out one line before rewriting it in a smaller, neater script.

"You have the kind of quiet light that makes people stop and breathe a little softer. I hope today gives you warmth, even if it’s just through this."

"Eat well."

– Someone who cares.

He folded the letter gently and tucked it into the paper bag before folding it shut. His fingers brushed the paper one last time as if second-guessing everything. Then, without another word, he stood up and made his way toward the locker hall.

The combination was laughably simple. He had only needed to watch Jungkook open it once, just once, to commit the rhythm of the numbers to memory. Birth date, probably. Predictable. Endearing. He quietly thanked his photographic memory as the lock gave a soft click beneath his fingers. He unlocked the door quickly, glancing around the hallway even though no one was there.

Then he placed the small paper bag inside the locker carefully, like it might fall apart if he wasn’t gentle enough. The door shut with a soft click, and Taehyung exhaled through his nose, more flustered than he’d ever admit. He jammed his hands into his pockets and headed back to class.

Hoseok’s brow furrowed the moment Taehyung slid back into his seat, hoodie slung back over his shoulder, and his face a little too neutral. His usual bored facade was intact, but something was off. Taehyung didn’t usually take that long just to use the bathroom.

He leaned sideways slightly, squinting at him.“That was the longest piss in history,” he whispered, propping his chin on his hand as he eyed Taehyung from the corner of his eye.

Taehyung didn’t blink. He didn’t even glance at Hoseok.

“It was occupied,” he murmured flatly, tapping at his desk like the lecture was the most riveting thing in the world.

“Sure,” Hoseok replied dryly, but his tone held a smirk. He didn’t push. Not yet.

The final bell rang through the hallways like a sigh of relief. Chatter immediately filled the classroom as students gathered their things to leave for the day. As the four of them filed out, the hallway greeted them with a bit more noise and the sun setting.

“Finally,” Yoongi muttered, straightening up from where he leaned against the wall. His phone disappeared into his hoodie pocket as he glanced over the group with his usual stoic calm.

Jin stood beside him, waving slightly as they approached. “You guys take forever. What were they doing there? Reading the syllabus backwards?”

“They’re just slow,” Yoongi said bluntly, earning a playful shove from Jimin.

“Blame the professor, not us,” Jimin retorted, adjusting the strap of his bag. He turned toward the group with a thoughtful frown as he glanced at a nearby window, where faint raindrops dotted the glass in irregular trails.

“Wait– shoot, I left my umbrella in my locker,” he muttered, visibly annoyed. “Didn’t know I’d need it today. You guys go ahead, I’ll catch up.

Yoongi squinted at the window with a barely concealed groan. “Of course it rains the one time I wear white shoes.”

“I’ll check mine too,” Jungkook added softly, eyes down. “I think I forgot a pen.”

Taehyung’s eyes flicked toward him for just a second, too quick to be noticed, and then back ahead.

So the whole group strolled together down the corridor, the overhead lights buzzing faintly above them and the windows pouring in golden afternoon light. Their footsteps echoed in a comfortable rhythm, the kind that spoke of routine and familiarity. Eventually, they stepped into the elevator, heading down to the first floor.

Jimin reached his locker first while the others walked behind him, humming as he spun the dial with ease.

Jungkook stopped a few steps down, his hand already reaching out.

Zero. Nine. Zero. One.

The lock clicked open. The door creaked slightly, and inside–

The brown paper bag sat nestled in the center of Jungkook’s locker, folded neatly, creased with care, untouched, and deliberate, as if placed there with the same gentleness one might use to handle something fragile. His breath caught in his throat. Fingers, curled around the metal locker door, hesitated. His lashes fluttered once, then again, before he found his voice.

“Hyung,” he said, the word barely above a murmur, soft and unsure, like it had tiptoed out of him before he realized.

Jimin, who was beside his own locker just a few feet away, fiddled with the tangled strap of his umbrella. He didn’t look up right away. “Yeah?” he answered distractedly, pulling his bag forward to grab a charger from the side pocket.

Jungkook pointed at a neatly placed paper bag, “This… wasn’t here earlier.”

Jimin took a few quick steps over, leaning in to look. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Whoa. What is that?”

He reached for the bag with both hands, moving carefully, as if the wrong touch might make it disappear. The paper gave the same gentle crinkle in his palms. He could already feel the cool condensation of the banana milk bottle against the inside, the slight weight of something else tucked within.

His hands froze when he noticed the folded slip of paper tucked between the edge of the bag and the sandwich wrapper.

Another note.

He picked it up with trembling fingers and unfolded it. The handwriting was the same, neat, intentional.

“You have the kind of quiet light that makes people stop and breathe a little softer. I hope today gives you warmth, even if it’s just through this.”

“Eat well.”

– Someone who cares.

Jungkook stood in stunned silence, his lips slightly parted. The hallway seemed quieter somehow, like the sound had been vacuumed out of the air just for this moment. He read it again. and again.

Jimin stepped closer, reading over his shoulder. “That’s... that’s so sweet. Who the hell writes like this?”

Hoseok, a few steps away, suddenly let out a low snort and tried, and failed, to cover it with a cough. Taehyung, standing next to him with his hands deep in his pockets and eyes fixed blankly on a nearby bulletin board, didn't move. Not even a blink. Narrowing his eyes, Jin immediately zeroed in like a hawk.

"What?” he asked, his gaze shifting from Hoseok to Taehyung. “Did I miss something?”

Hoseok bit his lip, shoulders twitching with the effort of not laughing outright. “Nothing. Just... poetry. That’s some seriously good handwriting though, right?”

“Makes you wonder who it is,” Yoongi added, squinting toward the paper bag in Jungkook’s hands. “They even got that drink he buys a lot.”

Jungkook’s ears were red now, a blush crawling up to his cheeks. “I… I don’t even know who would do this…” he stared inside the paper bag, still scanning the things as if he couldn’t believe it, “I– I didn’t think anyone would notice…”

Taehyung remained completely still, staring at a smudge on the wall like it had suddenly become the most important thing in the world.

Jimin smiled softly. “Well... someone did.”

He clutched the note closer to his chest, almost protectively. There was something fragile in his expression, like he’d just been given something he didn’t know he needed until it was already in his hands.

The others began to drift toward the exit, Jin still mumbling about clues and suspects, Yoongi nudging him to let it go. Jimin gave Jungkook one last pat on the shoulder and grinned. “Whoever it is… they’ve got taste.”

Left at the back of the group, Taehyung walked quietly, one hand curled tightly around the inside pocket of his hoodie where his spare notepad was still tucked.

Beside him, Hoseok bumped his arm lightly. “You’re really hopeless,” he whispered, low enough for only Taehyung to hear.

Taehyung didn’t look at him, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “I know,” he whispered back.

And ahead of them, Jungkook was still holding the letter. Still reading it.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The automatic doors whooshed open, letting in a sudden gust of wind laced with the unmistakable scent of rain, clean, damp, and a little earthy. The rest stepped onto the front steps of the building, only to be met with the soft but persistent sound of water pounding against the pavement. What had started as a light drizzle earlier had now become a steady, determined downpour.

“Okay, this is definitely not what the app said,” Jin groaned, squinting up at the gray sky that seemed to stretch endlessly, clouds heavy with even more rain. He jabbed at his phone screen, frustrated. “It said 10% chance! Ten! That’s like… umbrella-optional!”

“Apps lie,” Yoongi muttered beside him, adjusting the strap of his bag. “Trust the air. My knees told me it would rain.” Causing Hoseok to snort as he punched Yoongi’s lightly.

“That’s not a thing.”

"It is a thing,” Yoongi replied, deadpan. “My grandma told me. Runs in the family.”

Jimin had already pulled his umbrella out and was flicking it open with a practiced motion. “And that’s why I always keep one in my locker. Survival of the smartest.”

“You’re just smug because your foresight paid off.” Jin huffed, pulling the hood of his jacket over his head.

Looping an arm through Yoongi’s without warning. “You’re with me, grumpy weather prophet.” The other didn’t protest, but he did glance over his shoulder at Jin and offered a vague shrug, as if to say, fate chose me.

Jin sighed dramatically. “I suppose I’ll just drown, then.”

“Hyung, you can come with me,” Hoseok offered cheerfully, pulling out his blindingly bright neon yellow umbrella. “But you’ll have to walk close. Like… really close.”

Jin gave him a suspicious look. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Who, me?” Hoseok said with mock innocence. “Never.”

Behind them, Taehyung stood quietly near the door, umbrella still folded in one hand. He hadn’t moved since the rain started, just watching the sky with a strangely unreadable expression. His headphones dangled around his neck now, silent for once.

Jungkook, meanwhile, was clutching the brown paper bag a little tighter to his chest. It had warmed slightly against his body, the faint scent of the sandwich and cookies drifting up through the folds. The note was still folded neatly in the outer crease, He hadn’t had the heart to put it away yet.

As the group began shuffling into their pairs, preparing to dash out into the rain, Jungkook suddenly reached into his backpack with his free hand. His fingers searched through his things, his pencil case, notebook, charger, growing more frantic as realization slowly settled in.

“Oh…” he said, blinking down into the open bag. “I didn’t bring my umbrella.”

“You… what?” Jimin asked, whipping around with disbelief written all over his face. “You? Jungkook? Forgot an umbrella? The same Jungkook who packs three pens in case the first two break?” Jungkook offered a sheepish smile, still holding the paper bag protectively.

“I didn’t think I’d need it. The forecast said–”

“LIES!” Jin interjected, pointing accusingly at the sky. “All of it!”

Jimin shook his head slowly, half-laughing. “Wow. I don’t even know you anymore.”

“I’m fine,” He said quickly, offering a small smile. “I can just wait here until it lightens up.”

“You sure?” Hoseok asked, trying not to grin as he glanced around. “I think we’ve already paired off.”

Yoongi lifted an eyebrow. “Looks like you’re on your own, kid.”

Giving a sympathetic look, Jin, though he didn’t make a move to offer space under Hoseok’s umbrella. “Sorry, Koo. Already claimed my ride.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything, just looked down at the note still peeking out from the bag. His fingers brushed against it absentmindedly. Then Jimin’s eyes narrowed mischievously. He turned his head, gaze locking on the one person who hadn’t budged since they stepped outside.

Taehyung.

Still pretending not to listen. Still pretending he hadn’t heard any of it. He rolled his shoulder once and adjusted his grip on the umbrella handle, his expression cool and calm.

Making Jimin smirk as he thought of something. “Ahem,” he said loudly, “Taehyung?”

Taehyung didn’t respond right away. Then, with a deep sigh that practically echoed with faux annoyance, he pressed the button on the umbrella. It sprang open with a soft click, the black canopy blooming above him. Stepping forward, just a little, angling it toward Jungkook without looking him in the eye.

“Come on,” he muttered, voice low and deliberate. “Before you catch a cold or something.”

Jungkook looked up at him, surprised at the offer. “You don’t have to–”

“I know I don’t have to,” Taehyung cut in, still not looking at him. “But standing here like a lost puppy won’t change the weather."

That made Hoseok snort loudly from behind them. “Oh my god.” He leaned toward Jin, eyes gleaming.

“Remember when I said he was acting weird when he took forever in the bathroom earlier? I knew something was up.”

Jin, eyes wide with curiosity, tilted his head. “You think this has something to do with–?”

“Obviously,” Hoseok whispered gleefully.

Jungkook stepped under the umbrella slowly, unsure, the edge of the paper bag brushing against Taehyung’s arm. The air between them felt suddenly… warmer. Charged. As if the rain had carved out a space just for the two of them.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Taehyung’s gaze stayed fixed on the rain ahead. “Just don’t get your... paper bag wet. That’d be tragic.” a soft, breathless laugh escaped Jungkook before he could stop it.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jungkook and Taehyung walked in silence down the main pathway that cut across campus, their steps slow and along with the gentle tap of raindrops hitting the umbrella overhead. Around them, puddles rippled from each drop, and the wind carried with it the soft hush of rustling leaves and distant laughter from students darting between buildings.

The others trailed behind them in pairs, their umbrellas bobbing like little ships in the sea of gray. Hoseok occasionally laughed at something Jin said, Jimin was still teasing Yoongi about looking like an “unwilling romance novel extra,” and every so often, they all looked ahead at the two boys walking just a little too close.

Taehyung held the umbrella firmly, his jaw set, eyes ahead, but something about the angle gave him away. It tilted ever so slightly, leaning more to Jungkook’s side without him noticing, as if his body was attuned to the idea of keeping him dry, regardless of the cost.

Jungkook noticed, though.

He kept stealing glances. Small ones. Careful ones.

At the way Taehyung’s hoodie clung damply to his shoulder. At the raindrops dotting the edge of his collar, seeping in slowly. He opened his mouth once, maybe twice, thinking to say something, but the words never made it past his tongue.

Behind them, Jimin called out cheerfully, “Alright, this is us! See you guys next week!”

“Don’t get too wet!” Hoseok added, practically bouncing as he waved goodbye, his voice still bubbling with laughter. “Try not to flirt too hard under that umbrella, okay?”

Jungkook flushed instantly. Taehyung, to his credit, kept his eyes forward, but his grip on the umbrella handle tightened slightly.

As their friends peeled away one by one, headed toward their own directions, toward the bus stop, the gate, or the café, whatever it was. They were left alone on the walkway, the soft rhythm of rain surrounding them like a curtain. Jungkook shifted his grip on the paper bag, trying not to think too hard about the way their footsteps seemed quieter now, the world narrowing down to just this path, just this umbrella, just–

He turned to look at Taehyung. and immediately frowned.

“Hyung,” Jungkook said, voice soft with concern. “You’re getting wet.” Making the other glance at him, confusion written on his face.

“What?”

“Your hoodie,” Jungkook pointed. “This whole side’s soaked.” Taehyung finally looked down at himself, as if noticing for the first time that the right shoulder and sleeve of his gray hoodie were visibly darkened from the rain, clinging to his skin.

He blinked, brows knitting slightly. “Oh. Huh.”

“You tilted the umbrella too much,” Jungkook added, already dropping the hand that held the paper bag. He swung his backpack around and rummaged through one of the front pockets.

Taehyung watched, puzzled. an annoyed frown crept into his eyebrows. “It’s not a big deal–”

“Just hold still,” Jungkook said quietly, cutting him off.

From the pocket, he pulled out a soft, neatly folded handkerchief. Pale blue. Bunny designs. Without waiting for a response, he reached up, carefully pressing the cloth to Taehyung’s wet shoulder. The motion was so tender, so unexpected, that it made Taehyung freeze. His fingers moved slowly, patting rather than rubbing, as if afraid the fabric of the hoodie might tear if he was too rough. His brows were furrowed, focused, the tiniest frown of worry on his face.

“You’ll get sick,” Jungkook murmured, barely audible above the rain. “You didn’t have to cover me like that.”

Taehyung looked down at him, eyes unreadable. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Jungkook insisted gently. “I’m fine. You didn’t have to get wet.”

“You didn’t have to bring cookies and banana–” Taehyung froze. His mouth shut abruptly. His eyes widened for a split second, betraying that he realized what he’d just said.

Jungkook blinked up at him.

Taehyung coughed, looking away fast. “I-I mean, whoever left that stuff. I just assumed. You know. Typical comfort food or something.” he tilted his head slightly, a knowing sort of curiosity growing in his gaze.

“Hmm.”

Taehyung cleared his throat again. “Don’t read into it.”

Jungkook smiled faintly, looking back down at the handkerchief. “I’m not.”

Before Taehyung could respond, or run away from the mess he'd just made, there was a honk nearby, short and familiar. They both turned toward the curb just ahead, where a familiar silver car had just pulled up, windshield wipers sweeping in rhythmic arcs. The passenger-side window rolled down, revealing Namjoon, Jungkook’s older brother.

He leaned one elbow casually against the door, a questioning eyebrow already raised as he scanned the scene before him. Jungkook, gently dabbing a handkerchief against a damp Taehyung, both of them huddled under one umbrella, standing far too close with a very telling paper bag in one hand.

Jungkook, still mid-motion, stiffened. “Hyung.”

Namjoon tilted his head slightly. “I mean… I thought I was just picking you up from class because of the rain, but–” his eyes flicked between them “looks like I might’ve interrupted something more interesting.”

Taehyung tensed. Jungkook looked horrified.

“It’s not– it’s just, he got wet, and I had a cloth and–”

“Right,” Namjoon said, lips twitching into a small, amused smile. “Well, sorry for ruining the romantic tension.”

“It’s really not…” Jungkook stated, looking confused and puzzled.

Namjoon raised a hand. “You’re fine. I’m parked right here. Come in before you both turn into sad, wet noodles.” His eyes landed on Taehyung again, this time with a slight narrowing, more observant. “You’re…?”

“Taehyung,” Jungkook answered quickly. “My friend.”

Even though Taehyung had done nothing but grumble, scoff, and pretend not to care every time Jungkook spoke to him. He always told himself it didn’t matter, that the younger probably didn’t even notice him half the time. But now, hearing him say it, label him so simply in front of someone else, it made Taehyung’s throat feel oddly tight.

Namjoon nodded slowly. “Got it. Nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

Taehyung nodded, barely. “You too.”

The rain continued to fall softly around them as Jungkook handed over the handkerchief to Taehyung with a shy smile. “Keep it. You’re soaked.”

He looked down at it, then back at Jungkook, lips parting like he wanted to say something but didn’t. Instead, he just nodded.

As Jungkook slid into the car, shyly thanking Taehyung and shutting the door behind him, Namjoon threw one last look out the window. “He seems nice,” he said to Jungkook.

Glancing out at the other, still standing by the curb, the handkerchief loosely in hand. “He is,” Jungkook murmured.

Taehyung’s lips twitched downward, fingers fiddling with the damp hem of his sleeve.

“…Idiot,” he muttered under his breath.

But he didn’t mean Jungkook. Not really.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

It was a slow, gray morning, the kind that made everything feel like it was underwater. Outside Jungkook’s window, the rain hadn’t let up. It wasn’t the dramatic kind of stormy downpour that slammed against the glass, but rather a persistent, whispering drizzle. It veiled the world in a hazy film of silver, blurring the buildings across the street, muting the trees, the roads, even time itself.

He sat cross-legged on his bed, still in his oversized white shirt and pajama shorts, a soft blanket draped loosely over his shoulders. His room was quiet except for the soft hum of his laptop charging and the distant tap-tap-tap of raindrops overhead. a half-finished cup of cocoa sat on his nightstand, forgotten and now lukewarm.

In his hands, his phone glowed dimly, casting a gentle light onto his face as he scrolled absentmindedly through his camera roll.

It had started out with him looking for a picture he’d taken of a class handout, nothing important, just something Jimin had asked for. But somewhere along the way, his fingers slowed. He found himself lingering on candid photos. Screenshots. Moments.
Little things he’d saved without really thinking.

Then there it was.

A blurry photo, caught mid-laugh.

Jungkook wasn’t standing still in it, he was in motion, walking down the path that curved around the side of the campus building. His shoulder was slightly hunched from the way the umbrella tilted between him and Taehyung, its canopy just wide enough to cover both their heads if they stood a little too close. Which they did.

The photo had been taken from just a step or two behind, where the rest of the group trailed after him and Taehyung. He was slightly ahead in the frame, shoulder closest to the lens, the light catching on the soft, damp edges of his hair. The photo was grainy and imperfect, but there was something about it. Something quiet and warm and real. The faint blush on his cheeks. The way the light caught his lashes.

Mid-giggle. Cheeks flushed. Eyes crinkled into something that felt like sunlight.

He wasn’t looking at the camera. He wasn’t even fully facing it. His gaze was turned slightly toward Taehyung, off-frame, but just enough that it looked like he was smiling right at him. The photo was also grainy. The kind of shot someone took hurriedly, like they were afraid to be caught.

The angle was a little too low, like it was taken discreetly, walking from the back or behind someone else’s shoulder. He stared at it for a moment, the fuzziness making it hard to tell details, but the image still carried a weight. A flicker of recognition sparked in his mind.

Wait…

He blinked, scrolling back through his messages. "Ah, that must’ve been one of the pictures Jiminie-hyung sent last night. I didn’t even realize."

He flushed, thumb hovering over the image, then gently tapping to zoom in. There was something so intimate about it, even though nothing in it was really intimate. Just a boy, walking under the rain, giggling at something in particular and someone beside him. You can barely see the other person, just his arm. Holding the umbrella.

Still… he couldn’t stop looking at it.

His thumb hovered for a second. Then he tapped “Set as Wallpaper.”

The image blinked, resized itself, and settled onto his lock screen like it belonged there. Jungkook stared at it again, this time surrounded by the icons of his home screen. He let out the smallest laugh under his breath, almost embarrassed by himself, but didn’t change it back. Instead, he locked the phone, tossed it gently onto the blanket beside him, and pulled his knees up to his chest.

He didn’t know why that picture meant so much.

Or maybe, deep down, he did.

The note. The umbrella was leaning toward him. The hoodie that got wet instead of his. The way Taehyung never said much, but always seemed to know. Jungkook leaned his head against the headboard, blinking slowly at the ceiling as the soft murmur of rain carried on.

That paper bag from yesterday was still tucked safely on his desk, the now-empty bottle of banana milk sitting beside it. The note was folded neatly, like he couldn’t bring himself to crumple something so tender. Something that saw him.

His eyes drifted back to the photo.

Could it be… him?

Taehyung, with his strange silences and sideways glances. The way his eyes had darted away when Jungkook tried to wipe it dry. The way he knew exactly what was inside the paper bag before Jungkook even said anything.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed slightly. He blinked, like trying to see through a fog that hadn’t quite lifted. But then he gave a tiny, awkward laugh, barely more than a breath, and shook his head.

“No,” he mumbled under his breath. “He’d never…”

He trailed off, a soft smile still playing on his lips despite the confusion in his chest. Then he tucked the phone beside his pillow and slid under the covers, letting the rain’s gentle rhythm lull him.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Taehyung lay sprawled across his bed, one arm thrown over his eyes, as if shielding himself from a sun that didn’t exist. The room was dim, his curtains drawn halfway, casting blurred streaks of gray light across the wooden floor. The sound of rain on the roof above his window had become a background hum he wasn’t sure he liked or hated.

His phone buzzed somewhere near his pillow. He didn’t move.

He sighed, removing his arm as his eyes flicked up to the screen, which had long since gone dark. Yesterday, before they headed home, Jimin had insisted, loudly, of course. As they ran into each other on the way home.

They were neighbors, after all. He demanded they make a group chat, Something about “bonding” and “boosting academic survival through memes.” Taehyung had rolled his eyes, but no one really said no to Jimin when he had that sparkle in his eye.

So now they were all there. Him. Hoseok. Jimin. Jungkook. Even Yoongi and Jin, who weren’t in their class but got dragged into it anyway. All their numbers were in his phone now.

Including Jungkook’s. And that… was dangerous.

He hadn’t messaged him. Wouldn’t. but the number sat there like an unopened letter, just begging to be read, or written to. Taehyung knew better.

Jungkook didn’t know it was him.

He wasn’t supposed to.

He pulled his knees closer to his chest and rested his chin on them. The image of Jungkook from yesterday still clung to the inside of his skull like a snapshot burned into film. That little moment when the umbrella tilted more toward him. That small frown Jungkook wore when he saw Taehyung’s damp hoodie. The way he had wordlessly offered his handkerchief, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Taehyung had wanted to say something then. Something honest. Something stupid.

But all he’d done was laugh awkwardly and mumble that he was fine. Because what else could he say?
“Thanks for noticing?”
“You’re the reason my shoulder’s wet but I kind of liked it?”
“I wrote that note.”

God.

Groaning as he covered his face with both hands, that photo had haunted him since last night. A blurry picture. Just Jungkook, mid-laugh, hoodie clinging to one side from the rain. The umbrella slanted above his head in that crooked way, Taehyung didn’t even realize he’d done.

And Jimin had sent it privately to Taehyung with a teasing, “Caught this, Looks like he’s smiling at you.”

Taehyung had stared at the image for a long time. He never replied to the message.

But he saved the photo. He couldn’t help himself okay.

Jungkook wasn’t even looking at him in the picture. He was smiling at Taehyung’s direction, eyes crinkled, cheek slightly pink from the breeze, bag slipping down his shoulder like it always did. But the way the photo was framed, it almost looked like he was smiling at him. It would be so easy to send a message. Tapping on Jungkook’s contact once. Just once. Then locked his phone, Because he knew. If he opened that conversation, he wouldn’t stop at just "hi."

And he wasn’t ready.

Not when Jungkook didn’t know it was him leaving those notes. Buying his favorite drink. Not when the mystery was still the safest place to hide a heart that was, embarrassingly, starting to beat too fast around him.

He had long admitted to himself that he might actually have feelings for the younger. Not out loud, God, no– but in the quiet ways that snuck in when he wasn’t looking. In the way he memorized Jungkook’s laugh, or noticed the soft gloss he sometimes wore in the morning.

He just didn’t want to accept it at first. Couldn’t. Because this was his first time feeling this kind of way, warm and terrifying. Like falling without knowing if the ground would ever catch you. So he stayed hidden, behind every one-word answer and barely-there glances, pretending none of it meant anything. But the truth was beginning to press against his ribs, louder each day.

Instead, Taehyung turned his phone face down, exhaled softly, and let his thoughts drift to the next note. He still had the pen. Still had too many things he wasn’t brave enough to say out loud.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

It surprised him sometimes how quietly things had changed.

Not with a confession. Not with a grand gesture. Just a slow and steady unraveling, like a sweater thread tugged loose, one pull at a time, until he looked down and realized he wasn’t wrapped up the same anymore.

It had been weeks since that first umbrella moment. weeks since Jungkook had carefully wiped the rain from Taehyung’s sleeve and tilted his head with that dumb, gentle smile. Since then, something had shifted in the way they moved around each other.

Not all at once.

It began with small, almost invisible choices.

Like the day Taehyung didn’t ignore Jungkook’s greeting and instead replied with a low, “Morning,” eyes fixed stubbornly ahead. Or the time he gave up his seat beside Hoseok just so he could end up next to Jungkook during study group, under the guise of needing a charger.

He didn’t stop being Taehyung, of course. There were still long silences. Awkward pauses. Occasional dismissive shrugs. But he’d started trying. Just a little. Enough for the others to notice. Or at least, enough for Hoseok to notice.

“You’ve been courting him for, like, a few weeks now,” Hoseok had said one afternoon, lounging on the grass outside campus while Taehyung was reading a book he borrowed from the library.

“What?” Taehyung had blinked at him, caught mid-thought.

“The lunches, the notes, the way you keep magically appearing beside him like some dramatic K-drama ghost boyfriend.”

“I’m not– he doesn’t even know it’s me.”

“Uh-huh,” Hoseok smirked. “And you haven’t written a new note in a few days, and you’ve been moody about it since. Just admit it, Tae. You’re wooing him.”

Taehyung had turned away, cheeks flushed, muttering something incomprehensible about minding his own business.

But the words stuck.

He was wooing Jungkook, wasn’t he?

Just… quietly. Carefully. Without words.

Which made what happened next all the more disarming.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Chapter Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

It was Friday. The sky was golden, the kind of afternoon that made everything glow like it had been brushed with honey. Sunlight pooled on the streets like warm syrup, casting long, slow shadows.

They had all agreed to meet at Honeybrewed, a quiet little café hidden between a laundromat and a bookstore. Curtains lay lazily over the windows, clinging to the old brick with no intention of leaving.

Inside, the place smelled like cinnamon, steamed milk, and something sweetly burnt. The chairs didn’t really match and the cushions were lumpy, but it felt lived in.

Jin had texted that morning with a sigh-heavy excuse about a family obligation.

“Already have plans today. I’d rather be with you losers, but I’m not strong enough to fight my mom.”

So it was just the five of them.

Taehyung had arrived first with Jungkook, the two of them walking side-by-side with the kind of ease that didn’t exist a few weeks ago. The distance that used to hum awkwardly between them had softened, now replaced by something quieter, something warmer.

Jimin and Hoseok came a few minutes later but immediately got distracted by a seasonal latte poster near the counter and doubled back inside to pester the barista about toppings, foam art, and whether cinnamon hearts were “a vibe”.

Yoongi had shown up not long after, hood up and earbuds in, hands stuffed into the sleeves of an oversized jacket. He gave a short nod by way of greeting, grabbed a pastry without asking, and settled into a chair like he belonged there.

So it was just Taehyung and Jungkook left outside for the moment, tucked into a slightly wobbly table on the patio, its pale paint chipped and worn like. Jungkook sat back, holding an iced Americano, condensation dripping slowly down the glass onto his sleeve.

Today, he wore a pale purple sundress with a soft floral print, the kind that moved gently in the breeze and shimmered faintly in the golden light. A cropped cardigan was draped over his shoulders, his hair pinned back with a small silver clip shaped like a star. His earrings matched, delicate, dangling, catching the sun every time he tilted his head.

And Taehyung had noticed. Over the past few weeks, he’d seen the way he dresses, soft pastels, flowing silhouettes, quiet elegance that Jungkook carried like it was simply part of who he was. No explanations. Just beauty in motion.

Taehyung’s matcha sat mostly untouched. He didn’t even like matcha all that much, it was too grassy, too smug, but it looked nice in the sunlight, that soft sage green glowing faintly against the warm haze of afternoon.

They weren’t saying much, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The silence between them had evolved into something companionable, soft around the edges, no longer heavy with hesitation. and then Jungkook unlocked his phone.

Taehyung’s eyes flicked to it out of instinct. Just a glance. Harmless.

But it wasn’t harmless.

Because there it was, his homescreen.

That photo.

The one Jimin had sneakily taken a few weeks ago. Taehyung knew it well. He hadn’t been in it, but he remembered the exact moment. The shared umbrella, and now that moment the rain, giggles, warmth, was Jungkook’s homescreen.

Taehyung’s heart hiccupped. His chest felt tight in a way that made him sit still, like any movement might make it worse.

The photo was soft. Intimate, even if unintentionally so. The kind of picture someone chooses carefully, not randomly. It looked like something important.

He spoke without meaning to.

“So… that’s your homescreen?” he mutters as he tries to act like it didn’t really matter.

Jungkook blinked, a little startled, then smiled, small and almost shy. “Oh– yeah. Jiminie hyung sent it to me. I liked it.”

Right. Jimin had sent it to Jungkook as well. Privately. After teasing Taehyung relentlessly about how “weirdly gentle” he’d been under that umbrella. He swallowed and immediately murmured.

“Right. From the groupchat,” he lied, too fast. He knew it made no sense since it wasn’t really in their groupchat, he just hoped Jungkook wouldn't catch on to it.

Sighing a breath of relief as Jungkook looked back at the screen, thoughtful.

“It just looked… warm, I guess. Even if I didn’t know someone was taking it.”

“You look kind of stupid in it.”

Jungkook let out a light breath of laughter, gaze dropping to the table. “Maybe,” he murmured. Then, with a little nudge of his foot beneath the table, added, “But you still looked at it.”

Taehyung looked away, lips twitching into a line. “Shut up.

Jungkook didn’t press. He just sipped his drink, a smile tucked into the rim of the glass like a secret he didn’t need to say out loud. That’s when Jimin and Hoseok finally reappeared, carrying too many drinks and a plate of overpriced pastries they clearly didn’t agree on.

Jimin slid into the seat beside Hoseok, eyes catching the tail end of something, maybe a look, maybe nothing, and raised a brow. “Okay, what did I miss?” he asked, tone light.

Neither Taehyung nor Jungkook answered fast enough.

Jimin smirked, catching Taehyung’s expression before it vanished behind a sip of matcha. “You okay tae? You look a bit red–” he teased, nudging him with an elbow.

Taehyung didn’t blink. “I’m not?...”

Jimin chuckled and clinked his drink against Taehyung’s like a toast. “Relax. I’m just messing with you.”

Yoongi, already seated with half a croissant in his mouth, looked between them and shrugged. “You guys are all weird,” and maybe it was the way Jungkook’s laugh rang out then, clear, golden.

Maybe it was the way their knees brushed again under the table and neither moved away.

Taehyung took a sip of his matcha. Still too grassy.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

It was just past seven when Taehyung stepped onto campus, the morning mist still hugging the pathways. A soft chill lingered in the air, brushing against his skin through the folds of his dark jacket. Most students weren’t due for another hour, so the corridors were mostly empty, just the way he liked it.

The small gift box weighed oddly in his pocket. Not heavy, really, but present. He’d picked it a week ago during their outing to the mall, when he’d slipped away from the group for a moment. He hadn’t meant to stop in that accessories shop, but the glitter of soft colors and tiny trinkets had caught his eye.

And then, he saw them.

The pale lavender scrunchie, a set of crescent moon clips, a velvet bow pin, all dainty, lovely things he didn’t typically pay attention to. but the moment he did, his mind painted an image of Jungkook wearing one, head ducked in shy laughter, hair curled just enough to catch the light.

So he bought them. Quietly. Casually. Told the cashier they were for his little cousin, just to dodge any judgment he was imagining.

Now, he stood in front of Jungkook’s locker, as he carefully eased the small box inside. The note was tucked just beneath the lid, written last night with fingers hesitant but heart certain.

“Saw these and thought you might like them.
You make ordinary things look lovely.”
– Someone who sees you.

He’d barely slipped the locker shut when–

“Taehyung?”

The voice startled him like thunder. He froze, hand still hovering over the metal handle. Slowly, stiffly, he turned around, his shoulders tight, his heart immediately jackhammering in his chest. Jimin stood a few paces away, backpack over one shoulder. His expression flickered, confusion at first, and then realization dawning in.

Jimin blinked once. Twice.

“You– wait. Was that… was that you?” Jimin said, voice hushed but sharp with disbelief. He stepped forward, pointing slowly toward the locker like it might vanish if he moved too fast. “You’re the one who's been leaving the letters?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened for a split second before narrowing in that typical, faux-bored way he wore like armor. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The blonde-haired stared at him. “Taehyung. I literally just saw you.”

“Maybe you saw wrong.” Taehyung turned quickly, pretending to zip his jacket even though it was already zipped. His ears were pink.

“Okay woah,” Jimin breathed, covering his mouth with his hand before his face broke into a grin. “You’ve been the one. The snacks. The letters. The banana milk that one day. Taehyung– are you... courting Jungkook?”

That made the other sputter, his composure slipping entirely for half a second. “What?! No– I mean, what even–”

Jimin had stepped closer, grinning like he’d just discovered the juiciest secret in the world. “You are! You’ve been totally, secretly wooing him this whole time, you sneaky little shit.”

Taehyung held up a hand to stop him, face red. “I wasn’t wooing, okay? I was just… being nice.”

“With hand-written poetry notes?”

“I like writing,” Taehyung snapped defensively, looking away. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

Jimin took pity, just a little, and leaned his weight against the lockers with a softened smile. “I saw you checking the box before putting it inside, He’s going to love this one, you know. Those clips are exactly his type. Just didn't know you'd be the type to do those .. things,

Glancing at the locker, lips pressed into a thin line. He mutters “You think?”

Jimin’s smile grew. “I know.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Taehyung fidgeted with his jacket zipper again. Then, with more sincerity than teasing, the other added quietly, “You care about him a lot, don’t you?”

Not responding right away. Taehyung stared ahead, eyes unreadable for a beat.

“…Yeah,” he murmured. “I do.”

Causing Jimin’s smile to dim into something gentler, more knowing. “You should tell him someday.”

Taehyung ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Someday, I guess..”

Later that day, the sun was finally beginning to burn through the morning mist, casting streaks between the rustling leaves of an old tree near the back quad. A soft breeze drifted through the campus, Jungkook sat on the worn wooden bench beneath the tree, his posture curled slightly as he cradled the small gift box in his lap.

His fingers worked at the ribbon slowly, like it was something sacred. When the lid came off, he stared at the contents inside with wide, dazzled eyes.

Delicate hair accessories, silver crescent clips, soft pastel scrunchies, a velvet bow in the faintest shade of lilac. all the things he liked are all nestled like tiny treasures in folded paper. He blinked, lashes fanning low as he ran his thumb across the velvet, mouth parted just a little. And right on top of it all sat a small note, its edges slightly curled from where it had been tucked inside.

Jungkook stared at it for a long moment before picking it up carefully, like it might disappear if he touched it too hard. The handwriting was soft and slanted, graceful. His heart did a small flutter in his chest, the kind that made his fingers warm and his throat tighten a little.

“Saw these and thought you might like them.
You make ordinary things look lovely.”
– “Someone who sees you.”

Someone who sees you…?

He bit his lip unconsciously, eyes scanning the words again. There was something about the phrasing, so simple, yet it clung to him like a song lyric he couldn’t stop humming. Someone out there thought he made ordinary things look lovely. That he was seen. Not just noticed, but seen.

He didn’t know why it made his eyes feel hot all of a sudden.

His thumb ran slowly across the velvet ribbon again. The softness of it reminded him of something– no, someone. But he shook the thought away quickly, cheeks turning warm

“They’re beautiful,” he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. Though Jimin had been sitting beside him for a few minutes now, chin resting in one hand, watching him with quiet amusement.

“They always know what I like…” Jungkook added, almost in awe.

Jimin’s lips twitched. He shifted slightly, one leg tucked under the other, and let his eyes linger on the soft, fond expression that had settled over Jungkook’s face. A beat passed. Then he bumped his elbow lightly against Jungkook’s side. “You ever think about who’s been giving these to you?”

Jungkook startled slightly, then glanced up at him. “Huh?”

Jimin chuckled. “The gifts,” he said, nodding toward the open box. “Don’t you ever wonder?”

“Oh.” Jungkook looked back down at the clips, blinking like the thought had genuinely never occurred to him that seriously. “I mean… yeah, sometimes.” Jimin tilted his head. “Just sometimes?”

His brows furrowed faintly as he picked up one of the crescent moon clips and held it between his fingers. “Well… it’s kind of a mystery, right? I just figured… maybe it was a really thoughtful classmate or something. Someone nice.”

Jimin snorted softly. “Someone ‘nice,’ huh.” which caused Jungkook to turn his head to him confused.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Jimin said, feigning innocence. Then added under his breath, “You’re so clueless sometimes.”

Jungkook squinted at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Jimin repeated, smiling too wide. Then, after a pause, he jabbed a finger toward the gift box and added with a laugh,

“Whoever it is even knows your locker code. That’s dedication.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened a bit. “Wait– oh my god, you’re right.”

Laughing harder at the genuine shock on his face. Jimin added, “They’ve probably memorized your whole class schedule and blood type by now, too.”

Then, with a gentle shift in tone, he softened. “But really. If you had to guess... who do you wish it was?” Jungkook hesitated. His thumb idly stroked the edge of the box, his expression turning thoughtful again.

“I don’t want to assume anything,” he said, quieter now. “But…” He trailed off. The breeze lifted his bangs slightly, his lashes low over his cheeks. “I kind of hope it’s someone,” he mumbled at last.

Jimin leaned closer, chin propped on his palm again. “Someone like?”

Jungkook’s fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the box. He glanced around the quiet quad, checking if anyone might be close enough to overhear. The coast was clear, just distant footsteps and the rustle of wind-blown leaves. Still, he lowered his voice and leaned a little closer to Jimin, almost like he was handing over a piece of his soul.

“…Taehyung-hyung,” he whispered..

For a second, Jimin’s brain didn’t compute. Then his eyes shot wide open, his entire body jolting upright as if someone had just splashed cold water on him. His mouth fell open, and he slapped a hand dramatically over his chest.

“Wait– wait, what?” he gasped, voice pitched in stunned delight. “You hope it’s Taehyung?!” Jungkook recoiled slightly, cheeks igniting like wildfire as he instinctively drew the box of accessories closer to his chest.

“I didn’t mean– I mean– it’s not like that, I just– if I had to guess– or maybe just… hope, a little.” he winces at himself for stuttering like a fool.

Jimin's mouth curved into a slow, wicked grin. He twisted on the bench to face Jungkook fully, propping one arm along the wooden backrest, his eyes twinkling with unspoken glee. “Oh my god,” he whispered, as if savoring the moment. “You have a crush.”

“I do not,” Jungkook hissed, slouching low in embarrassment as he gripped the box tighter. He ducked his head, trying to disappear into the oversized collar of his hoodie.

Jimin laughed, loud and scandalous, one hand reaching up to cover his mouth as he leaned in further, now resting his cheek on Jungkook’s shoulder, his voice dropping to a teasing tone.

“Be honest. Do you think he’s cute?”

Jungkook opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked down at the box in his lap like it might give him an excuse to escape. “That’s not… I mean…”

Jimin nudged him with his knee, grinning. “Come on.”

“…Fine,” Jungkook muttered, barely audible. “Sometimes.”

Jimin smirked knowingly. “Sure. A normal amount of interest that makes you talk to your hair clips like they’re love letters.”

“I do not–!”

“You do,” Jimin sing-songed, practically bouncing in place now. “And he even knows your locker code. Your locker code, Jungkook.”

That made Jungkook freeze for a bit. “…Wait. You think he does?”

Jimin blinked– too late. His grin faltered just a fraction. “I mean… hypothetically?” he tried, tone going a little too high. “Like, you know. If it were someone like– like Taehyung. Not that it is! I didn’t say it is. Don’t look at me like that.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, suspicious. “Why would you say Taehyung-hyung?”

“Because you said him first?” Jimin backpedaled, face trying, and failing to play it cool. “I’m just... looping back, you know. Echoing. Conversation stuff.”

“Hyung…”

“Shhh,” Jimin hissed, lightly tapping Jungkook’s arm. “Let the universe work its magic.”

Jungkook buried his face in his hands again, somewhere between a moan and a laugh. The gift box sat in his lap like a quiet secret, the note still tucked neatly underneath the pastel bows. And even though he wouldn’t say it out loud, even though he still wasn’t sure who it was for certain, his heart quietly, desperately hoped.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Classes had just ended, and Taehyung and Jungkook walked side by side, their steps easy and unhurried. Jungkook’s hands fiddled absently with the scrunchie tied loosely around his wrist, a small gift Taehyung had given him weeks ago.

The faint purple pastel caught the sunlight now and then, a gentle splash of color against Jungkook’s simple, neat outfit. His expression was calm, eyes mostly focused on the path ahead but occasionally drifting toward the flutter of leaves in the breeze.

Taehyung’s eyes flicked down to the scrunchie once, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips, but he quickly masked it with a slightly gruff cough, shifting his weight casually to the other foot. Just then, a figure approached from behind, a tall student, dressed in the casual style of a different faculty, someone they barely recognized. The stranger slowed as he reached them, offering a friendly, open smile.

“Hey,” the student said, voice easy and warm as he nodded at Jungkook’s outfit. “You really know how to put together your style. That dress looks great on you.”

Making Jungkook blink, surprised, widening his eyes as his fingers froze mid-twist of the scrunchie. A soft blush bloomed on his cheeks. He glanced down shyly, as if suddenly aware of how different he looked bathed in golden light.

Taehyung’s body stiffened, but only briefly. He recovered with practiced ease, sliding into a nonchalant stance as he casually stepped just a bit closer to the younger. His expression held a relaxed, polite smile, pleasant enough, but with something unreadable simmering beneath the surface.

He tilted his head slightly at the stranger and said in a smooth, even voice, “Yeah? He hears that a lot.”

There was no bite in the words, no obvious challenge. But the weight of them lingered in the air like something unspoken. Something final.

The stranger blinked once, then let out a short chuckle. “Fair enough. Just thought I’d say it.” He gave Jungkook a nod and a quick smile, then turned away and blended back into the steady flow of students.

Jungkook glanced up at Taehyung, confusion plain and honest in his wide eyes. “Hyung… what was that?”

The older looked away for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. His voice was gruff and low, but not unkind. “Nothing. Just didn’t feel like entertaining random compliments.”

That made Jungkook’s lips curve into a soft, puzzled smile. He didn’t entirely understand, but there was something about the way his hyung hovered just a little closer now, something grounding in his presence. Without thinking, he brushed his shoulder lightly against Taehyung’s.

“Thanks...” he murmured.

Taehyung said nothing. Just kept walking beside him, one step steady after the other. But the corner of his mouth lifted, barely.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Taehyung sat on the plush rug, phone in hand, scrolling through lecture notes but distracted. The looming exams weighed on his mind, but the quiet comfort of home made the pressure feel a little lighter. After a moment, he hesitated, fingers pausing above the keyboard before finally tapping open their group chat.

Taehyung: “Hey. How about a study session at my place later? We’ve got exams coming up, and the library’s a bit cramped.”

He set the phone down on the rug and glanced around his room, his favorite vinyl records leaning against the wall, a half-empty mug of iced tea sweating on the table. Then he returned his gaze to the screen, waiting for replies. Within minutes, the familiar pings began.

Jimin: “Can’t, I promised my niece I’d be the backup dancer for her doll’s concert. Big day for her.”

Taehyung let out a soft scoff, head falling back against the couch cushion. He could practically hear Jimin’s overly serious voice narrating the performance like a stage manager.

Hoseok: “Sorry, Tae, I’m deep into reorganizing my sock drawer by emotional impact. It’s a whole journey.”
Yoongi: “Got a nap scheduled at 4. It’s non-negotiable.”

He snorted. Of course. If there were Olympic gold medals for strategic napping, Yoongi would win them all.

Jin: “Who even studies these days?”

Then the last ping came.

Jungkook: “I’ll come! I really need to study :c”

Taehyung’s smile softened, his gaze lingering on the message longer than necessary. He tapped out a quick reply, fingers moving faster than he expected.

Taehyung: “Cool. I’ll text you the address.”
Jungkook: “See you later hyung.”

Taehyung set the phone down gently, feeling the warmth from his chest pool behind his ribs. The room was calm except for the soft ticking of the wall clock and the occasional rustle of leaves brushing the windowpane.

He glanced over at the pastel scrunchie resting on his nightstand, looking like the one he’d given Jungkook. His fingers reached out absentmindedly. Not really knowing why he kept a similar one to himself. It’s actually pretty, alright.

Everyone else had their ridiculous reasons to skip. But Jungkook? Jungkook was coming.

Meanwhile, Jungkook sat on the edge of his bed, phone still in hand even after the message had been sent. The warm light of late Sunday afternoon spilled through his curtains, painting the walls in sleepy amber. He blinked down at the group chat one more time, rereading the last exchange.

His lips curled around a small smile before he could stop it.

Taehyung’s house. Just the two of them.

He told himself it was nothing. Just studying. Nothing out of the ordinary. But his heart betrayed him a little, skipping gently like a pebble across a still lake. There was something quietly thrilling about it, the thought of spending hours alone with Taehyung, side by side, heads bent over notes, maybe laughing at stupid mistakes and sipping something warm.

His gaze drifted to his desk, to the worn psychology notes and the half-erased diagrams he’d scrawled in pencil. They made his head ache just looking at them, but the idea of going through them with Taehyung made it all feel… manageable. Maybe even something to look forward to.

Just as he was about to start packing his things, a knock sounded on his bedroom door. Namjoon peeked in, hair slightly tousled from a nap, a sleepy crease on his cheek.

“Hey,” Namjoon muttered, scratching the back of his head. “You heading out?”

Jungkook nodded, standing up as he zipped up his backpack. “Yeah. I’m going over to Taehyung-hyung’s house. We’re gonna study for the exam.”

Making Namjoon lean a shoulder against the doorframe, eyes narrowing just a little, not in suspicion, more like curiosity.

“That so?” he asked, arms crossing. “Didn’t know you two started hanging out outside campus.”

Jungkook blinked. “We’ve done it before…” he trailed off, not sure why his voice got quieter at the end. “I mean, just for school stuff. He invited everyone.” Namjoon raised a brow, clearly unconvinced.

“And everyone else bailed?”

“Pretty much,” Jungkook mumbled, glancing away as he slipped on his shoes. “Jimin said something about a doll concert, and Hobi-hyung’s organizing socks or something…”

“That sounds fake,” Namjoon deadpanned.

“I know,” Jungkook sighed, “but I really need to study. And it’s… easier with Taehyung-hyung.” That last part slipped out before he could stop himself. His voice had softened just a little too much.

Namjoon didn’t miss it. He tilted his head, a slow, knowing grin stretching across his face. “Easier, huh?”

Jungkook flushed instantly, fingers fumbling with his bag strap. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Didn’t say anything.”

“You were going to.”

Namjoon chuckled, stepping back. “Alright, alright. I won’t tease.” Then, more gently, “Just… don’t lose focus, okay? You’ve worked hard for this.”

“I know,” Jungkook murmured, brushing his bangs from his eyes. “I won’t.”

“Okay. Text me when you’re on the way back.”

“Will do.”

With that, Jungkook made his way outside, the evening air crisp against his cheeks. As he walked to the nearby station, he checked his phone again, heart thudding as the message from Taehyung lit up the screen.

Taehyung: “Here’s my address. I’ll be waiting. Just come in.”

Jungkook stared at the message for a beat too long, thumb hovering over the screen. I’ll be waiting. Something about that phrasing stuck to the inside of his chest.

He glanced down at himself as he walked, tugging the hem of his oversized cream sweater a little lower. Underneath, the pleated black skirt he’d chosen swayed gently with each step, brushing just above his knees.

He paired it with plain tights and his favorite loafers, the ones he’d worn on campus before that Taehyung had once muttered looked "weirdly cute" when he thought Jungkook hadn’t heard. His soft makeup was minimal, just a gentle flush on his cheeks, a little gloss, and a bit of shimmer on his lids.

He wasn’t dressing for Taehyung. He told himself that again.

But as he reached the right house, modest, quiet, with ivy climbing the edges of the wall, his heart skipped unevenly. He climbed the steps and knocked gently. There was a beat of rustling from inside, muffled footsteps, and then the door swung open.

Taehyung stood in the doorway in a loose black tee and soft grey sweats, hair tousled from lounging at home, one hand braced casually on the frame.

His mouth opened like he was about to greet Jungkook, but no words came out at first.

Because there he was, Jungkook, skirt brushing his thighs, sweater sleeves drooping past his hands, a soft shine on his lips and eyes sparkling like dusk-lit dew. He was smiling at him, head tilted just slightly, as if unaware of the gentle devastation he was causing.

“Hi, hyung,” Jungkook said, voice light and innocent, completely unaware of the way his appearance had knocked the air out of Taehyung’s lungs. Taehyung blinked once. Then again.

“Y-You look–” He cleared his throat and schooled his face quickly, switching to his usual gruffness like facade. “Aren’t you cold wearing that?” he muttered, stepping aside to let Jungkook in. “You’re always dressed like you're going somewhere important.”

Jungkook’s smile only grew, used to the tone by now, and oddly fond of it. “You always say that,” he giggled softly, stepping inside and toeing off his shoes. “But you never say it like it’s a bad thing.”

Taehyung grunted, but his eyes flicked downward when he thought Jungkook wasn’t looking, a quick, automatic glance that traced over the curve of his calves, the delicate movement of his skirt as he walked, the way the sweater dipped off one shoulder. He clicked his tongue and turned away, hiding the hint of pink that crawled up his neck.

“Didn’t expect you to show up looking like you walked out of a softboy Pinterest board,” he muttered under his breath. Jungkook just laughed again, the sound like bubbles.

“That’s not even an insult, hyung.”

Taehyung shut the door with a dramatic sigh. “I’m losing my edge.”

Jungkook padded in behind him, eyes quietly taking in the warmth of the house, the dim light, the faint scent of vanilla and citrus, the scatter of books on a table. A folded blanket was draped across the back of the couch. Taehyung’s world felt intimate. Quiet. Safe.

“Where do we study?” Jungkook asked, glancing up at him.

Scratching his neck. “My room’s got space. Desk’s there, floor cushions, whatever works for you.” Taehyung mutters.

“Okay,” Jungkook said, already stepping out of his comfort zone by being there, and yet not feeling nervous at all. Because it was Taehyung.

As they made their way toward his room, Taehyung walked just slightly behind him, gaze trailing down again, not for long, not obviously. But enough. Something about seeing Jungkook like this, so gentle and pretty and comfortable in his softness, tugged at something sharp and tender inside him. It was all still quiet. Unspoken.

Stepping softly into Taehyung’s room, Jungkook’s eyes blinked slowly as they adjusted to the warm light seeping through the cream-colored curtains. The room felt lived in, cozy, with the faint scent of cedarwood mingling with laundry detergent.

His gaze swept across the soft floor cushions arranged near the low study table, a few open notebooks stacked neatly on one corner. On the shelf against the wall, there were small collectibles, a few framed photos, and some worn paperbacks stacked beside a bluetooth speaker quietly humming some lo-fi instrumental.

It was nothing like what Jungkook had expected. It wasn’t cold or minimal or closed-off, it was warm. Thoughtful. A little cluttered, but in a way that made it feel real.

He smiled to himself as he stepped further in, fingers grazing the edges of a cushion before he turned to place his bag on the floor.

And paused. Sitting quietly on the corner of Taehyung’s nightstand, almost tucked behind a lamp, was a pastel scrunchie. Purple pastel to be exact.

It looked exactly like the one Jungkook wore on his wrist.

His heart skipped once.

No– it wasn’t just similar. It was identical.

Jungkook tilted his head, a curious frown forming as he took a small step closer. He raised his arm slightly to glance at the one around his wrist, He hadn't told anyone else except Jimin. Mostly because he didn’t know. It had just been in his locker that day, tucked inside a small gift box. One of a few small, kind gifts that had been appearing over the past few weeks.

Jungkook blinked, puzzled. “It really looks the same…” he mutters more to himself rather than the other boy. but it seems like Taehyung had heard him.

“It’s not.” Taehyung was already halfway to the nightstand, snatching the scrunchie off its surface like it might explode if left visible another second. “Different material. Cheaper. Not as soft. Just looks similar in the light.”

Jungkook stared at him, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “You sure? The color’s like, exact.” “Coincidence,” Taehyung deadpanned, turning his back to Jungkook as he opened the nearest drawer and shoved the scrunchie inside.

“Probably a trendy color or whatever. You’re overthinking it.”

Jungkook tilted his head, his smile now fully formed as he dropped his bag and lowered himself onto the cushion. “I didn’t know you were so into scrunchies.”

“I’m not,” Taehyung snapped, far too quickly, before letting out a long breath and adding more casually, “Got it for… my cousin.”

“For your cousin?...”

“Don’t question it,” Taehyung muttered, already sitting down across from Jungkook and flipping open a random notebook as if nothing had happened. Giggling softly, as Jungkook brushed his hair back and settled his books in front of him.

“You’re so weird sometimes, hyung.”

“You’re the one who’s obsessed with scrunchies,” Taehyung mumbled under his breath, scribbling random circles on the margin of his notes.

Jungkook glanced down at the one on his wrist and smiled to himself, fingers gently rubbing the scrunchie. He still had no idea where they came from… but he wore every single one. Looking up again, he caught the elder staring, not at his face, but at the space just above his knee where the edge of his oversized sweater had slipped slightly, revealing the pleats of his soft gray skirt.

The moment Taehyung realized, he tore his eyes away and cleared his throat loudly, flipping a page as if it required his full attention.

Jungkook looked away, then laughed quietly, heart fluttering in a way he didn’t fully understand. Neither of them said anything for a moment, the silence not heavy, but soft. Charged. And though he didn’t know who was behind the secret gifts yet, part of him couldn’t help but glance at the drawer that now held the matching scrunchie… and wonder.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

A few minutes later, beside him, Taehyung was staring. Again.

He wasn’t even pretending to read anymore. His pen hovered mid-air above his notebook, long forgotten, eyes tracing the delicate slope of Jungkook’s nose, the way his lashes fluttered when he was focused, the little scrunch of his brows when he was confused.

“You’re staring,” Jungkook said quietly, voice unsure but sweet, like he wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed or apologetic. He peeked up from behind his bangs, blinking slowly and wide-eyed. “Did I do something wrong?”

Taehyung snapped his attention back, startled. “Huh? No. No, you’re just–” he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling like the collar of his shirt was too tight.

“You’re doing that thing again.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “What thing?”

“Looking…dumb and confusing on purpose,” Taehyung grumbled, eyes narrowing but not meanly. He shoved his chair back just slightly, trying to breathe. “It’s stupid, really.” Jungkook’s face flushed instantly, hands flying to cover his cheeks.

“I-I’m not doing anything on purpose!” he squeaked. “I’m just trying to understand the subject-verb placements…”

Taehyung groaned, tossing his head back dramatically. “That makes it worse.”

Jungkook just pouted, returning to his notes with a small, confused frown, his handwriting starting to slope a little from how tight he was gripping the pen. They studied for a little while longer, though the air between them had shifted, thicker, warmer. His knee accidentally bumped Taehyung’s once. Then twice. Then they just… stayed like that. Touching. Neither of them said anything about it.

Leaning in once to point out something in the textbook, Taehyung’s shoulder brushing Jungkook’s arm, voice low and right by his ear. “Here,” he murmured, fingers brushing against Jungkook’s as he guided his hand to the right line. "This sentence is a passive voice. See how the verb gets shifted–”

Jungkook turned to look at him. Their faces were suddenly inches apart.

“Oh–” Jungkook blinked. His lips parted slightly in surprise, and his voice came out quieter. “Hyung… your face is really close…”

Taehyung didn’t move.

He didn’t either.

His eyes were big and round and shiny, and there was a tiny, puzzled pout on his mouth, like he didn’t fully understand why his heart was suddenly beating so fast. Taehyung’s throat bobbed. He leaned just a little closer. Just–

Then Jungkook whispered, so quietly it broke the tension with soft confusion: “...Is there something on my face?” causing the other to freeze, pulling back almost immediately.

“W-what? No. No, idiot,” he said too loudly, snatching his pen back in panic. “I was just– reading! What do you think this is, a drama?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, thoroughly flustered now. “I didn’t think say that!”

Taehyung shot up from his seat so quickly the chair squeaked against the floor. “Tea. We need tea. You’re short-circuiting.”

“I’m fine–!”

“You’re red.”

“You’re red too!”

“I’m flushed from caffeine.” He’s lying. He doesn’t even drink coffee, what the hell.

Jungkook pouted again, curling back into the sweater sleeves as Taehyung escaped toward the kitchen. Left alone, he clutched the scrunchie around his wrist with both hands and whispered into the fabric. “…Hyung’s acting so weird today…”

He didn’t realize he was smiling.

The low hum of the kettle buzzed faintly through the closed bedroom door as Jungkook sat cross-legged on the floor, nestled in the plush warmth of Taehyung’s room. The afternoon sunlight spilled in through the curtains, casting soft golden shapes across the floor and over Jungkook’s knitted sweater and black skirt.

A pillow was tucked beneath him, notebook open but neglected in his lap, as his fingers absently traced the pattern on the bed sheet beside him.

He was waiting patiently, quietly, while Taehyung was out in the kitchen preparing tea for them both. His eyes drifted to the open closet door, to the books stacked neatly on the shelves, the scattered guitar picks on the desk, the dried lavender tied near the window. Everything about the room smelled like Taehyung, something dusky and warm.

He didn’t know that Taehyung plays the guitar.

The door creaked open a moment later as the other entered, holding two mismatched mugs in his hands, steam curling up from each. “Barley tea,” he said, nudging the door closed with his foot. “Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

Jungkook smiled as Taehyung approached. “Thank you, hyung…”

As Taehyung crouched to place one mug on the floor beside him, Jungkook reached up instinctively to take it, his sleeve caught the edge of the tray. Making the mug wobble, then tipped.

A wave of warm tea sloshed out and splattered directly onto the hem of his sweater and skirt, soaking the fabric in seconds. Jungkook gasped, flinching back.

“Oh–!”

The tea wasn’t scalding, but it was enough to jolt him. He stared down in wide-eyed horror, hands hovering over the spreading stain. Taehyung blinked once, still holding his own mug, then let out a long, theatrical sigh.

“You had it for all of five seconds.”

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know it was that close!” Jungkook stammered, looking up with frantic eyes and flushed cheeks. Sighing even more, “Dumbass” Taehyung muttered under his breath, placing his mug safely on the bedside table.

He stood, brushing his palms on his pants.

“Don’t move. You’ll just make it worse.”

Jungkook sat frozen in place, cringing, fingers pinching the edge of his sweater away from his stomach. The fabric clung damply to him, heavy and golden brown. His face burned with embarrassment.

Taehyung disappeared into the closet, muttering something incoherent. A few seconds later, he returned with a loose white hoodie, soft and obviously well-worn. He tossed it toward Jungkook with a flick of his wrist.

“Here. Before you ruin your whole outfit.”

Jungkook caught it with a muffled squeak, burying his face in the soft cotton for a second. “Are you sure? What if I smell like… tea and shame?”

“You already do,” Taehyung deadpanned. He crouched again, grabbing a handful of tissues from his desk to mop the mess.

“Besides, it’s not like that hoodie hasn’t survived worse.” Jungkook giggled shyly, hugging the hoodie.

“It’s really warm…”

“Obviously.”

Then, with a quiet breath, he reached down and began tugging the soaked sweater off over his head. The moment the hem lifted, revealing a stretch of soft skin and the unmistakable curve of his chest beneath a fitted tank, Taehyung’s hand froze mid-wipe.

He struggled briefly with the sleeves, cheeks red as he peeled the damp fabric away from his body. The tank top clung to him slightly, snug against his chest, soft lines and all, and when the sweater finally cleared his head, he was biting his lower lip, clearly flustered. Taehyung glanced up–

And immediately looked away. His entire face flushed crimson.

“I’m not looking!,” he blurted, spinning slightly on his heel as he wiped at the spill with a vengeance. “What… are you doing.”

Jungkook let out an embarrassed laugh, small and breathless. “You handed me a hoodie!”

“I didn’t say you had to– ugh, whatever, just–” Taehyung clutched the tissues tighter, wiping the same spot three times. “Warn a guy next time.”

Jungkook quickly tugged the hoodie over his head, sleeves falling over his hands like a shield. “S-Sorry… I just didn’t want to sit in wet clothes…”

When Taehyung finally dared a glance back, Jungkook was fully dressed again, drowning in the oversized white hoodie. His hair was tousled from changing, lips were still slightly parted from the effort. He looked up with wide eyes, timid, unsure.

As he adjusted the hoodie around his skirt and tugged the sleeves down, Taehyung stood up, brushing his hands off again. He turned back to the closet, reaching to push the door closed, but then paused. He noticed something small peeking from under one of the folded sweaters. A pale blue square of cloth.

He pulled it free, familiar texture, tiny embroidered bunnies at the corner. His throat caught for a second. It was Jungkook’s handkerchief. The very same one he’d pressed to Taehyung’s soaked shoulder that day under the umbrella. The one he had pretended not to notice slipping into his hoodie pocket. The one he never got around to returning.

He turned around slowly and walked back to Jungkook.

“Hey,” he said casually, but his voice was softer. “Found this in the closet.”

Jungkook looked up, blinking, and tilted his head before recognizing the small folded cloth. His eyes rounded slightly. “Oh… you still have it?”

“Of course I do,” He replied a little too quickly, then cleared his throat. “You gave it to me. Remember? The younger giggled, nodding slowly.

“Yeah. I remember.”

He held it out, just in case. “You want it back?” Jungkook paused, gaze flicking down to the handkerchief, then back up to Taehyung. Then, with a shy, fond smile curling on his lips, he shook his head.

“No. You keep it,” he said quietly. “I gave it to you, didn’t I?”

Taehyung blinked, ears suddenly tinged pink. His fingers curled a little tighter around the soft fabric. “…Fine,” he muttered, tucking it back into his pocket as if it hadn’t just made his stomach do something weird and fluttery. “I guess it’s… okay or whatever.”

Jungkook just smiled again, soft and small, and tucked his legs back beneath him, now warm and dry and wearing something that smelled faintly like Taehyung’s cologne.

And if Taehyung’s eyes lingered a little longer on Jungkook’s flushed cheeks, his curled bangs, the way his fingers tugged nervously at the hem of the hoodie, well.

He didn’t say a word.

Not yet.

Taehyung sat cross-legged beside Jungkook on the bedroom floor, textbooks open in a lazy sprawl across the blanket-covered rug. His hoodie still swamped Jungkook, sleeves dangling well past his wrists as he balanced his chin in his palm, blinking down at the same paragraph he'd been rereading for the past ten minutes.

Taehyung wasn’t doing much better.

It wasn’t the material, it was Jungkook’s eyelashes. They were long. Ridiculously long. He could see them from the side, dark crescents fluttering every time Jungkook blinked sleepily. And that soft pout, Taehyung was almost certain it wasn’t intentional, but the way Jungkook’s lips stayed slightly pursed in concentration made his brain short-circuit. He cleared his throat.

Jungkook startled slightly, turning his head. His bangs shifted just a little, eyes wide and drowsy. “You okay?” he asked, voice small, gentle, like it hadn’t been used much all day.

“Yeah,” Taehyung muttered, stabbing his pen into the margin of his notebook, though he hadn’t written anything in fifteen minutes. “You’re the one who looks like you’re about to keel over.”

“M’not,” Jungkook mumbled defensively, but the sentence slurred at the edges.

Taehyung glanced sideways again, only to find Jungkook leaning in slightly. His body was turning, soft and slow, head tilting more and more until a thud. Jungkook’s cheek landed lightly against Taehyung’s shoulder.

Neither of them moved.

Taehyung blinked. Slowly.

A warm weight settled into him like it belonged there. Jungkook’s hair brushed the side of his neck, his breath ghosting softly through the fabric of his shirt. For a second, He forgot how to breathe entirely. He didn’t dare move. He was fairly certain that if he so much as shifted his elbow, the moment would evaporate, and he wasn’t ready for it to.

Jungkook didn’t stir. A soft hum escaped his lips, barely audible, as if he were perfectly content. Taehyung’s heart did a complicated flip. After a long pause, he tilted his head slightly, trying to see the younger’s expression. His face was completely relaxed, brows smooth, lashes fluttering faintly with each breath. His lips were parted just a bit.

Taehyung swallowed hard.

A million thoughts flashed through his head, some sweet, some stupid, some dangerous. But instead of letting any of them win, he leaned his own head back against the wall behind them and let the silence stretch.

And maybe, just maybe, he let his shoulder rest a little more purposefully beneath Jungkook’s cheek.

Ten minutes passed like that. Maybe fifteen.

Then, all at once, Jungkook stirred. He blinked awake slowly, stretching his back and sitting up straight with a little noise of confusion. “Oh no…” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with his sleeves. “Did I fall asleep?”

Taehyung looked away sharply. “Yeah. On me. Like I’m your personal pillow or something.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. His face bloomed with color as he sat up straighter, hands flailing to tuck back his bangs. “I–I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry– I didn’t even realize…”

“It’s fine,” Taehyung muttered quickly, still not looking at him. His hand came up to scratch the back of his neck, ears tinting pink.

“You, um… you looked kinda… I mean, you drooled a little. But like. In a cute way. Not that I was… watching.”

Jungkook stared at him. Taehyung’s face was aggressively blank, save for the very visible blush blooming across his cheeks.

“…Cute?” Jungkook repeated in a tiny voice, blinking slowly.

“I said what I said,” Taehyung grumbled. Then, a beat later, “But like, only cute if you’re into people who spill tea and knock over pens and drool on other people.” Jungkook’s mouth wobbled. Then he let out the softest giggle, barely louder than the rustling of the blanket beneath them.

“I guess… that’s a very specific type,” he said shyly, tucking his knees back beneath him and pulling the hoodie sleeves over his fingers. Making Taehyung exhale, looking down at his own notebook like it had personally betrayed him.

“…Well,” he muttered, “good thing I’ve got a thing for disasters.”

Jungkook blinked, the blush on his cheeks creeping all the way to the tips of his ears. “…Huh?”

“Nothing.” Taehyung reached for his textbook again, flipping the page way too aggressively. “Let’s just finish chapter six before you decide to fall asleep on me again.”

Nodding slowly, lips twitching as he tried, and failed to hide the tiny smile tugging at his mouth. He leaned in again, maybe just a little closer this time, and went back to study. And if Taehyung couldn’t stop smiling behind the curtain of his hair, well… Jungkook was too shy to say anything.

As a comforting silence engulfed the whole room, Jungkook shifted, stretching his legs and letting his gaze wander under the desk. Something caught his eye, a faint flash of crumpled white paper poking from beneath a pile of notebooks.

Curious, he reached out with gentle fingers and pulled the sheets free. The paper was creased and worn, edges slightly bent like it had been handled roughly before being discarded. Jungkook’s heart fluttered when he recognized the familiar, messy handwriting, carefully looping letters, an awkward but deliberate style he’d seen before.

He unfolded the first letter and read slowly,

“When the world feels cold, let the warmth between our silence speak...”

Jungkook reads them slowly, brows furrowing, not fully realizing what he's stumbled onto. The tone feels… intimate. Almost too familiar. He glanced around quickly, making sure the door was still closed, and then carefully smoothed the letter flat on the desk. His fingers lingered over the words as if touching them would reveal their hidden meaning.

Another sheet slipped from beneath the first, and he unfolded it cautiously. The handwriting matched, and the lines read,

“A scrunchie tied around your wrist, a silent promise in the rain. Maybe I’m more than just a shadow in your.”

Jungkook’s heart pounded louder now, a confusing mix of warmth, hope, and uncertainty bubbling inside him. He pressed the letters to his chest for a moment before folding them neatly and sliding them inside his notebook, closing it hurriedly.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Books and scattered notes lay forgotten on the desk, the silence between them comfortable but charged with something unsaid. The air in Taehyung’s room still smelled faintly of tea and his own perfume as the evening shadows stretched longer across the floor.

Jungkook stood awkwardly by the door, clutching his bag straps like an anchor. His cheeks were flushed, not from the warmth of the room, but from the swirl of feelings and unanswered questions tangled inside him. The letters he had found, their gentle words, the familiar handwriting they all echoed in his mind like soft whispers.

Beside him, Taehyung leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed but eyes quietly watching Jungkook with a subtle, unreadable expression.

“Thanks for today,” Jungkook murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, looking down at his feet. His fingers fidgeted with the strap of his bag, then he glanced up briefly, cheeks coloring deeper. “For… you know. The study, the tea, and everything.”

Taehyung’s lips quirked into a small smile. “You’re welcome.”

Jungkook shuffled forward a step, suddenly feeling the weight of the oversized hoodie still folded carefully in his arms. His heart thumped so loudly he thought Tae might hear it. For a moment, his words caught in his throat.

“Hyung,” he said softly, “I… I really had a good time.”

There was a pause, a quiet beat where everything else seemed to slow.

Then, with a shy, almost breathless motion, Jungkook reached out and wrapped his arms around the older in a quick, hesitant hug, timid, gentle, and full of all the things he didn’t say out loud. Taehyung stiffened for a heartbeat, then relaxed, his hands resting lightly on Jungkook’s back.

When they pulled apart, his eyes were shining bright, but nervous. “I should go,” Jungkook said hurriedly, voice trembling slightly.

Taehyung gave him a pointed look, but said nothing as Jungkook stepped back toward the door. Outside under the streetlight, Namjoon stood next to his car, watching quietly, arms crossed, lips pressed in a thoughtful line. Jungkook stepped out, cheeks still flushed, and ran lightly toward Namjoon’s car, slipping inside without a word.

Namjoon’s gaze flicked back toward Taehyung, who was now watching from the doorway with a faint, unreadable expression. He then entered the car door, clicking softly as he started the engine.

“It took you both a few hours?” Namjoon asked, voice low, eyes on Jungkook. Nodding shyly, clutching his bag and hoodie close to his chest.

Namjoon gave a small, knowing smile, then pulled the car into the night, leaving Taehyung and the quiet porch behind them, both boys carrying secrets and questions neither was ready to voice.

Next morning, the school hallway buzzed with the usual chaos of students rushing between classes. Lockers slammed, laughter echoed. Jungkook’s heart felt heavy in his chest, a nervous flutter he couldn’t quite shake as he spotted Jin leaning casually against the wall as he talked to some students.

He hesitated for a moment, twisting the strap of his bag in his hands, then quietly slipped through the crowd to tug Jin’s sleeve.. “Hyung…” Jungkook’s voice was soft, barely audible over the noise. His eyes flickered nervously, cheeks flushed. “Can I talk to you for a minute? It’s kind of… important.”

Jin turned to look at him as he raised an eyebrow while flashing a lazy smirk. “Since when do you ever come to me for ‘important’ stuff?” He chuckled, but his gaze softened. “Alright, spill it, koo.”

Jungkook bit his lip, glancing around to make sure no one was listening too closely. Then, in a hesitant whisper, he confessed, “So… yesterday at Taehyung hyung’s place, I found some notes. Like… letters? And the handwriting looked really familiar. They kind of sound like those letters I’ve been getting lately.”

Jin’s eyes widened as if the words had shocked him, but then his face twisted into an exaggerated expression of panic.

“Ohhh, poetry?” Jin gasped dramatically, acting as if he didn't know Taehyung was in fact the one writing those letters, “Taehyung writes poetry? Since when did the grumpy guy turn into a hopeless romantic? I mean, I know his handwriting is ugly as hell, but a poetic soul? That’s… wow.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“You sure you’re not just reading too much into this? Or maybe someone’s messing with you, huh?"

Jungkook frowned, unsure whether Jin was teasing or trying to cover something up. “I don’t know, hyung. The style, the words, they sound like the letters I get. But Taehyung-hyung is always so… weird about everything. And he threw those notes away.”

Jin shook his head, smiling in that calm, big-brother way that made Jungkook want to trust him, even as a flicker of doubt nagged at the back of his mind. “Well,” Jin said, nudging Jungkook’s shoulder,

“Taehyung’s full of surprises. Just remember, sometimes, the truth isn’t as simple as it seems. Or maybe he just wants to write, who knows?”

Jungkook blinked, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the confusion swirling inside him.

“Thanks, hyung,” he murmured, still unsure if he was overthinking everything or finally starting to put the pieces together.

As Jin straightened before muttering a “See you later koo.” and disappeared into the crowd, Jungkook’s mind drifted back to the lockers, his mind replaying Taehyung’s shy smiles, the warmth of the hoodie, and those mysterious letters.

Back in his small, quiet room, the glow of his desk lamp was the only light illuminating the scattered papers and open notebook before him. Jungkook sat cross-legged on his bed, the oversized hoodie folded neatly beside him, still faintly scented with Taehyung’s laundry detergent, a comforting ghost that made his chest tighten.

His fingers trembled slightly as he pulled out the letters he’d been keeping tucked away in his drawer. He unfolded one carefully, eyes tracing the looping handwriting, the soft, secretive words.

His breath hitched.

He compared the phrases to the scraps of notes he’d glimpsed at Taehyung’s place, searching for differences, similarities, anything that might give him a sign.

The memory of Taehyung’s flushed cheeks when he’d complimented him flickered through his mind, the almost-kiss that wasn’t really an almost?

That made his heart pound like a drum. He was still unsure, still fumbling through a fog of uncertainty and shy hope.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Chapter Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

There were no classes for the day, which meant Jungkook had the luxury of staying in bed late and lounging around in his hoodie, Taehyung’s hoodie, to be exact. Jimin had dropped by sometime after lunch, bringing snacks and a bundle of gossip, sprawling on Jungkook’s floor while they scrolled through their phones and exchanged random updates.

He sat on his bed, hugging a pillow to his chest, bare feet tucked beneath him, hair slightly damp from a recent shower. While Jimin lay on his stomach across the floor rug, flipping through a comic book he’d picked up from the shelf.

“So,” Jimin said, without looking up, “how was the big study date?”

Jungkook’s cheeks warmed instantly. “It wasn’t a date,” he muttered. “We just studied. He made snacks.”

Jimin rolled over, raising a brow. “Snacks? You two alone in his room?”

“It was late in the afternoon!” he protested making the other smirk as he finally looked at the younger's already flustered state.

Jungkook sighed and flopped backward on his bed. “But I found something weird.” Jimin perked up. “Oh?”

He hesitated, then sat up, fidgeting with the drawstrings of his hoodie. “I was just looking around, and that’s when I found something under his drawer when he went to the bathroom. I found some torn-up letters. The handwriting was kinda messy, but… I think it’s the same as the ones I’ve been getting.”

Jimin blinked. Then blinked again. And burst into laughter, “Oh my god,” he gasped, pressing a hand over his mouth. “Taehyung is so dumb. He left them? Under the drawer?!”

Jungkook frowned. “What? Why is that dumb?”

“Because,” Jimin said, still laughing, “he’s clearly trying to be all mysterious and poetic and hopelessly romantic in secret, and he left evidence in his own room!” He tilted his head at Jimin’s words.

“But… he never said anything. He didn’t even act weird when I left.”

“Yeah, because he’s a disaster.” Jimin sat up, still grinning. “He probably didn’t realize you saw them. Or maybe he thought you wouldn’t connect the dots. Or maybe… he’s just hoping you don’t figure it out.”

Jungkook chewed his lip, eyes clouded with confusion. “But why would he do all that? Write letters and never say anything?”

The blonde-haired gave him a shrug and a tired smile. “Honestly, who knows? Maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s not. But if it is, then he’s probably just scared. Or being an idiot.” He flopped back down onto the rug with a groan.

“At this point, whatever. Let the boy fumble his way through shit. I’m tired.”

Jungkook stared down at the letters peeking out from under his notebook. His heart felt heavy and warm and confused all at once. And then, he glanced at Jimin again, how quick he'd been to laugh, how unbothered he seemed, how he brushed past every possibility like he already knew the answer.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes slightly. His hyung definitely knew something.

He couldn't prove it, couldn’t put his finger on exactly what, but the way Jimin avoided meeting his gaze too long, or how he offered just enough of a reaction to steer the topic but never truly linger, it was… suspicious.

The letters. Taehyung. Jimin’s knowing smile.

Yeah.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The classroom smelled faintly of chalk dust and stale coffee as Jungkook pushed open the door. The late morning sun filtered softly through the windows. Taehyung was already there, sitting casually in his usual seat, legs stretched out, one arm resting lazily on the back of the chair beside him. His phone lay forgotten on the desk, screen dimmed, eyes gazing out as if waiting for something, or someone.

He swallowed hard, heart pounding unevenly as he crossed the room and slid into the seat next to Taehyung. His fingers clutched the papers tightly. Behind them,

Hoseok was slouched over his notebook, smirking as he noticed the tension settling between his two friends, “What's up with you both?" he teased, barely suppressing a grin.

Taehyung glanced sideways at Jungkook, one brow raised. “You’re late.”

He ignored the jab, pulling the bundle from his bag and setting it carefully on the desk. He unfolded the letters, the familiar scrawled handwriting making his heart skip. He hesitated, fingers curling nervously around the strap of his bag. He took a small breath, steadying himself against the flood of anxious energy inside.

“About the letters…” His voice barely rose above a whisper, though in the quiet room it felt loud and exposed. “Is it … Are you the one who’s been leaving them?”

Taehyung blinked, his posture stiffening just a fraction. He turns to look at the other slowly, hands folding in front of him with a deliberate calm that barely masks the tension beneath. “I mean…” His voice dropped, measured and careful, eyes flicking away as if to avoid the weight of the question.

“Uh, maybe someone’s too scared to say what they feel out loud. Maybe words on paper feel safer. Or maybe... they don’t want to ruin anything by being obvious.” Fuck he knows he's rambling.

Jungkook’s brow furrowed, searching Taehyung’s face for any sign of the truth, but the other boy’s expression stayed unreadable, distant.

“So… you’re not saying yes or no?” He asked, voice trembling, the uncertainty stretching like a fragile thread between them.

Taehyung gave a small, dry chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes darting away again. "I didn’t say it’s me either.” Jungkook blinked, lips parting slightly in confusion.

“That’s... confusing.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung murmured, shaking his head in exasperation, the corners of his mouth twitching, “You’re impossible.”

He wanted to press further, but the soft chime of the exam bell echoed down the hall, and students started to move toward their seats. The moment slipped away like sand through fingers.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The early morning air was gentle, still cool against his cheeks as he stepped onto campus. It carried that clean scent, an odd thing that always reminded him of doom, empty hallways, and the rare silence before a day began.

He had barely slept last night, eyes fixed on the folded notes he had collected, the handwriting etched into his mind, the quiet rhythm of the words still echoing in his chest. After weeks of wondering, hoping, doubting… he had an idea. A stubborn, fluttery gut feeling that kept him wide awake.

So here he was. Twenty minutes before the building opened fully to students. His backpack slung over one shoulder, his heart thudding like it was hiding something.

He turned the corner past the first-floor stairwell, footsteps feather-light as he neared the hallway of lockers. His locker sat halfway down, silent, unassuming. Until he saw him.

Taehyung.

Hood up. Shoulders hunched, like he was trying to shrink into the shadows. One hand was tucked into his hoodie pocket. The other… was carefully pulling out something wrapped in neat green parchment. A piece of tape held a folded note on top, barely visible under the dim hallway lights.

Jungkook's breath caught in his throat. He watched, stunned, as Taehyung stood in front, eyes narrowed in focus. The boy gently opened Jungkook’s locker, putting the items inside and checking the angle, adjusting it so it wouldn’t get caught. It was so deliberate. So tender.

He stepped forward before he could stop himself, the quiet words tumbling out without thought.

“…Hyung?”

Taehyung flinched like he had been shot.

“Shit–!” he hissed, jerking his head to the side so fast he smacked it against the locker door. A dull metallic thud echoed in the quiet hall.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook hurried forward, guilt rising in his throat.

Taehyung turned around abruptly, clutching his head and glaring like he wanted to set the air on fire. “What the hell are you doing here this early?!”

He froze, suddenly sheepish. “I– uh I just… came early. What’s wrong with that?”

Looking away as he stuffed his hand into his hoodie, Taehyung mutters, voice stiff. “Whatever. I was just passing by.”

Jungkook blinked. “Passing by… your locker’s on the opposite end of the floor.”

“I was… taking the scenic route.”

“At six in the morning?”

“Yes. The air is... different.”

Jungkook tilted his head, genuinely confused. “Different how?” Taehyung groaned as he grumbled.

“For fuck’s sake, why are you interrogating me?”

“I’m not!” He took a step closer. “But– were you putting something in my locker just now?”

“No.” The word came out too quickly.

He stared at him. “You were.”

“I wasn’t.”

Jungkook glanced at his opened locker. The snack, chocolate bread again, his favorite, was still barely poking out of the locker. The folded note was unmistakable. He met Taehyung’s eyes again. “So it really was you.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched. “No, it wasn’t.”

He hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the strap of his bag, his voice smaller now. “Hyung… were you the one… leaving the notes too?”

Taehyung groaned and looked away. “God. What gave it away?”

“You’re standing right in front of my locker,” he pointed out softly, his cheeks warm. “And… I recognized your handwriting.”

“But don’t get the wrong idea,” Taehyung added quickly, stepping back like the truth physically burned his skin. “Just– you looked like a starving stray one day, and I have this… thing… where I can’t stand watching people be pathetic.”

his lips parted, unsure if he should smile or frown. “So... you didn’t mean any of it?”

“I didn’t say that.” Taehyung scowled, then bit the inside of his cheek, his voice dipping lower. “I just… didn’t want you to know it was me.”

“Why?” Jungkook asked carefully.

Meanwhile, Taehyung was quiet. He stared at the floor like it owed him something, like maybe if he glared hard enough, it would open up and swallow him whole.

“Because...” he muttered, almost inaudibly, “you smile differently when you don’t know it’s me.”

Jungkook felt something twist in his chest.

Taehyung looked up sharply. “And I.. You know– I wasn't ready for that smile to go away.” The hallway felt impossibly quiet.

The sunlight had begun to trickle through the east windows now, casting long shadows across the floor, dust dancing slowly in the golden beams. It made everything feel like a scene in some dumb movie out there.

Jungkook stepped forward again, slowly, carefully. “But what if it doesn’t go away?” he said loudly enough for the other to hear. He still felt shy, but hello? Now’s the time. He thinks.

Taehyung’s eyes met his. His throat worked as he swallowed, then looked away. “I didn’t do this for praise, okay?”

“I know.”

“Or attention.”

“I know.”

“Or because I... like you or anything.”

Jungkook smiled gently. “I didn’t say that.”

Taehyung crossed his arms. “Okay, whatever. Cool. nice–.”

“But I– I liked them,” Jungkook blurted, eyes wide and earnest. “The notes, I mean. I kept all of them…”

Taehyung looked like someone had just flipped a switch in his brain. His face flushed, and he immediately turned away, muttering, “Seriously, stop saying things like that.”

He only smiled, then ducked his head shyly. “But they made me feel… less alone. So thank you, hyung.”

Taehyung didn’t respond right away. But after a long moment, he murmured, “Don’t make me say it back, or I’ll actually die.”

He laughed, a quiet, breathless thing that made Taehyung’s ears glow red. From the end of the hallway, the sound of a door slamming open broke the moment. Footsteps echoed toward them.

A laugh broke from the end of the hallway, sharp and unmistakable.

Hoseok rounded the corner holding a convenience store bag and a coffee can, his mouth wide open in glee. “Wow! Really, Tae, you need to improve your game, man.”

Taehyung groaned and slammed his head lightly against the locker. “Why is he everywhere?”

Jungkook giggled under his breath, still blushing like crazy. He reached up and gently retrieved the gift from his locker, the note crinkling in his hand. He tucked it safely into his pocket, looked back at Taehyung with his soft, round eyes, and whispered, “Thank you again… I really liked them, hyung.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything. But Jungkook saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Just barely.

And that was enough.

As the bell rings, chairs scrape back, and the classroom begins to empty with a rush of chatter and feet. Jungkook lingers, lips pressed together, fingers fidgeting with the edges of his notebook where the latest green-wrapped note is tucked away. He dragged Jimin out of the classroom as he muttered something to Hoseok, who only nodded at him.

Taehyung on the other hand, wasn't doing all that great. He had walked in the classroom a little later than he usually does, and didn't glance at the younger who kept his gaze down. He swears he could feel his heart thumping a lot more harsher. The earlier encounter left him really flustered and he could not focus on the lecture.

Meanwhile, as Jungkook walked up with hesitant steps, his voice so soft Jimin nearly missed it. “Hyung… can we talk?”

Jimin immediately straightens up. “Yeah, of course. What’s wrong?”

They weave through the corridor, slipping past groups of students until they find a quiet alcove behind the student council board, where the sounds of the hallway dull to a hum. He doesn’t say anything at first, just pulls out the note from his pocket, unfolding it, and stares at the handwriting like it holds answers he’s still trying to process.

Then, with wide eyes and a blush creeping up his neck, he finally says it.

“It was him,” he whispers, like admitting it aloud makes it more real. “It was Taehyung-hyung all along. I saw him this morning… at my locker. He was putting it in so carefully, like he’s done it a hundred times.”

Jimin’s breath catches for a beat, but then a knowing smile tugs at his lips. “So you really caught him, huh.”

Jungkook blinks. “Wait– did you know?”

The older gives a small shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. “I didn’t know-know. But I caught him once, a while ago.”

His jaw drops. “What?! You saw him?”

Jimin laughs sheepishly. “Yeah… I came early to print something out and saw him slipping something into your locker. I didn’t say anything because– well– it seemed like he really didn’t want anyone to know. Not even you.”

“So all this time–”

“I figured it out then,” Jimin nods. “But I wasn’t sure if the others knew either. I didn’t want to out him. And hey… now you know. That’s what matters, right?”

He presses a hand over his reddened face. “I didn’t think I’d catch him like that,” he mumbles. “He smacked his head on the locker door when I said his name. And then he tried to say he was just passing by… At six in the morning, hyung!”

Jimin bursts out laughing. “That’s so him.”

Jungkook groans. “He kept denying it. But then I asked if he was the one writing the notes, and he kind of just... shut down. And then he said something about how I smile differently when I don’t know it’s him.”

Jimin's laughter softens into a warm hum. “Aww, that’s so sweet, totally not like him though-”

“I thought I was going to die,” He squeaks, clearly overwhelmed. “My heart was going so fast, and–and I told him I liked them! The notes! I said I kept all of them –oh my god–” The blonde-haired watches him fondly, letting the younger boy unravel in front of him.

Jungkook leans against the wall, shoulders slumping, but there’s a glow to him now. A little dazed. A little soft. “I wasn’t sure if it was really him,” he says again, quieter. “But I… I’m glad it was.”

Jimin reaches out and gently squeezes his wrist. “So what now?”

He looks down at the folded paper in his hands, then up again. “I don’t know. But… I want to find out more.”

Later on, the late afternoon sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the campus courtyard. Taehyung leaned against a stone bench, hoodie pulled over his forehead, shoulders slightly hunched, but his expression unreadable, cool, distant, almost bored. Hoseok took a slow sip of his coffee, eyes gleaming with barely concealed amusement.

Taehyung’s voice was low, clipped, barely more than a murmur. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Keep it that way.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared off, trying to look calm, but the faint flush creeping up his neck gave him away. Just then, Jin and Yoongi approached, the former smirking knowingly, the latter unbothered. Before Hoseok could hold back, his grin widened.

“Taehyung’s worried Jungkook will think he’s some kind of freak,” Hoseok said loud enough for all to hear, voice teasing. “Like that’s news, we all knew.”

Taehyung stiffened, a faint darkening on his cheeks despite the cold mask he wore. He looked sharply at Hoseok, voice short and dry.

“Shut up.”

Jin laughed softly, arms crossed. “We’ve all been watching, Tae.” With Yoongi, leaning casually against a pillar, smirked, voice lazy and unconcerned he muttered,

“Honestly, Hoseok couldn’t keep it in. It’s not a secret. Just relax.”

Taehyung shot a quick glare at Hoseok, voice clipped. “Not my fault if he can’t keep quiet.”

The group fell into a light, easy silence, broken only by the distant chatter of students passing by. Hoseok clapped Taehyung’s shoulder, voice firm but kind. “We got you, no matter what.”

Taehyung’s eyes met Hoseok’s briefly, a flicker of warmth beneath the cold exterior. He gave a small nod, shoulders relaxing slightly.

Just as Hoseok’s comforting words settled in the cool air, footsteps approached, quick, nervous, familiar. Jimin appeared first, scanning the group with raised eyebrows, followed closely by Jungkook, who tugged at his sleeve anxiously.

The moment their eyes landed on Taehyung, his gaze dropped instantly, cheeks blooming a deep red. Taehyung, too, shifted uncomfortably, head tilting down as if the ground were suddenly far more interesting than the people in front of him.

Taehyung, sensing the weight of Jungkook’s gaze, or rather, the complete lack of it, did not meet his eyes either. His shoulders stiffened, and his jaw clenched ever so slightly. The cold mask he wore slipped only for a flicker of hesitation, a tiny crack that betrayed the storm of emotions bubbling just beneath his calm exterior.

A breathless silence stretched between them, taut and electric, as if the space around them held its breath, waiting.

Jin's grin broke the stillness, teasing and warm. “Well, look at that– both of you avoiding eye contact like you got caught stealing cookies from the jar.”

Yoongi, eyes lazy but observant. “You two look like deer caught in headlights. It’s entertaining, really. Especially this guy,” he pointed at Taehyung.

Jimin’s expression shifted, his brows arched in surprise, his voice laced with disbelief. “Wait… so everyone already knew about this?”

Hoseok let out a low laugh, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “Since forever, man. We’ve been sitting on this secret like it’s a precious gem.”

Jimin’s gaze darted to each of them in turn, disbelief giving way to playful accusation. “And not a single one of you thought to tell me?”

Jungkook’s voice was a tiny whisper, tinged with embarrassment as he hid partially behind Jimin’s arm. “I didn’t know either…”

Jimin gave a soft chuckle, ruffling Jungkook’s hair lightly. “Well, I guess we’re the last ones to the party then.”

Taehyung finally looked up, eyes sharp and cold, but the subtle flush coloring his cheeks could not be hidden. His voice was clipped, deliberately detached, but the slightest tremor betrayed his inner turmoil.

“Like it was any of your business.”

Hoseok stepped closer, his grin widening as he nudged Taehyung playfully. “Oh, come on, Tae. You were basically writing love letters in secret, leaving snacks and notes like some kind of undercover cupid.”

Jungkook’s soft voice broke through the teasing, sincere, and shy. “I think hyung was just… looking out for me.”

Jimin’s teasing tone grew warmer, the smile in his eyes genuine and bright. “So Tae was basically courting you this whole time?”

At those words, Jungkook’s eyes widened, and his cheeks deepened into an even more vivid shade of pink. He glanced down, biting his lip nervously, while Taehyung snorted, crossing his arms like a shield, but couldn’t quite hide the small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. The group’s laughter bubbled up around them, easy, light, full of warmth.

Jimin shook his head, his smile softening as he looked at the two of them, the affection in his voice unmistakable. “Well, now that I know, this semester just got a lot more interesting.”

Jungkook glanced shyly up at Taehyung, a quiet hope lingering in his eyes, tentative but real. Taehyung met his gaze briefly, the cold facade melting just a little more, and in that glance, he could see the fragile honesty hiding behind the older’s walls.

It was messy. It was awkward. But it was theirs.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

For the past few days, Jungkook has barely seen Taehyung. Not properly, at least.

Taehyung arrives late to class, slips into his seat with his hood pulled low, and leaves before the bell even finishes ringing. At lunch, he disappears with some half-mumbled excuse. He doesn’t glance Jungkook’s way. Doesn’t scoff at Hoseok's jokes like before. Doesn’t even roll his eyes when Jimin tries to stir the pot.

It’s quiet in a way that hurts.

He tells himself not to overthink it. Maybe Taehyung’s just busy. Maybe he’s dealing with something personal. Maybe it has nothing to do with him. But then again, Jungkook’s not that clueless anymore. The others have noticed too, Jimin nudging him during class, Yoongi raising an eyebrow across the lunch table, Jin whispering with Hoseok like they’re watching a drama unfold in real time.

He can’t take it anymore.

So when the last bell rings and Taehyung’s already packing up with alarming speed, Jungkook follows him. Not calling out. Not running. Just… walking, fast, trailing behind him like a quiet shadow through the side corridors. Taehyung pushes open the stairwell door with his shoulder, gaze fixed ahead.

The door swings shut behind him,

“Hyung.”

Taehyung freezes. He doesn’t turn around.

Jungkook’s voice is quiet, breathless from the pace. “Can we talk?”

A long beat. Then a sigh. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

He steps forward anyway, fingers clenched at his sides. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not,” Taehyung mutters, still not facing him.

“You are.” His voice cracks, and he hates it, how small it sounds. “You won’t even look at me.”

Taehyung sighs, then slowly turns to face him. His face is unreadable, cool, almost cold. His posture guarded, as if bracing for a blow. “I’ve just been busy.”

Jungkook flinches. “That’s not true.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrow a fraction. “Why does it matter?”

There it is– the bite. The defense. The wall slamming down in real time. But he doesn’t back away. Not this time.

“Because you confessed,” he whispers, eyes glassy. “Not with words, maybe, b-but those letters, the way you looked at me the other morning... You said I smile differently when I don’t know it’s you. I haven’t stopped thinking about that.”

Taehyung’s fingers twitch at his sides.

“I liked those notes,” He says softly. “I liked you. I still do.”

Taehyung’s eyes flick up, just for a second. And he stills. Completely. “You…” he starts, but stops himself. His voice drops lower. “You liked them?

He nods, a flush creeping up his neck. “Yeah…”

Something flickers in Taehyung’s expression. A crack in the mask, barely visible, but real. He wasn’t ready for this. Not this clear, not this honest.

“I didn’t write them to get anything back,” Taehyung mutters, eyes skating away again. “You weren’t supposed to–”

“But I did.” He interrupts, voice trembling now. “You made me feel… seen. I read every word a hundred times. I waited for them. I looked forward to them. And when I found out it was you, I didn’t stop liking them. Or you.”

Taehyung stares at him, blinking slowly. Like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “You’re serious,” he says after a moment, almost to himself.

Jungkook nods, shy and honest. “Yeah.”

Taehyung exhales. Long. Unsteady. “Damn it.” The word slips out before he can catch it. He runs a hand through his hair and looks away, pacing back a step like he needs the space to breathe.

He bites his lip. “Hyung?”

Taehyung doesn’t face him. Just says, quieter, “If I keep seeing you like this… I’ll say something I can’t take back.”

“Then say it,” Jungkook whispers.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Taehyung finally turns to him, eyes hard but… scared. “Because you’ll look at me differently. And I won’t know how to handle that.” He takes another step closer.

“You think I’ll stop smiling at you?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer. His silence is loud. His guard falters again. His lips part like he’s about to speak, but no words come out. “You’re so good, Jungkook,” he finally mutters, his voice cracked and quiet.

“You’re– soft and kind and warm. I don’t know how to be around that without ruining it.”

“You’re not ruining anything.”

“You don’t know me like I do,” Taehyung snaps, suddenly, then instantly winces at his own tone.

But Jungkook doesn’t retreat. Instead, he reaches out, just barely, brushing Taehyung’s sleeve with trembling fingers.

“Then let me,” he says, and this time, Taehyung doesn’t pull away.

Meanwhile, they weren’t planning to be nosy. Honestly, Jin had just been dragging Yoongi and Hoseok around to find an empty hallway to drink his milk in peace. The vending machines were too crowded, the benches were taken, and the courtyard was hot.

“I’m about to drink this in the stairwell like a raccoon,” Jin mutters dramatically.

Yoongi yawns, trailing behind him. “Whatever, as long as it’s quiet.”

But when Hoseok rounds the corner ahead and abruptly freezes, Jin bumps into him, and Yoongi bumps into Jin.

“Shh,” Hoseok hisses, waving frantically.

They all go still, eyes locking on the barely cracked stairwell door. Inside, muffled voices. Then–

Jungkook’s soft, trembling whisper, “I meant it, you know. I really kept them all.”

Jin’s hand shoots up. Signal: Stop breathing.

Yoongi narrows his eyes and leans in just a bit, positioning himself to peek through the narrow crack in the door. Hoseok follows suit, eyes wide with growing excitement. Jin is too tall, too dramatic, and crouches down behind them like they’re some sort of under-qualified spy squad.

Inside the dim stairwell, bathed in soft light from the narrow windows, Jungkook stands two steps below Taehyung, clutching the green note with both hands. His voice shakes with nervous energy.

Taehyung, in his jacket, leans against the wall with arms crossed tightly, expression unreadable. Cold. Distant. Except his ears are red. The tips of them.

“You didn’t even have to say anything,” Taehyung mutters, eyes flicking to the window.

“I know,” Jungkook replies quietly. “But I… I liked the way they made me feel.”

Yoongi lets out a slow exhale through his nose. “He’s gone,” he whispers. “Totally gone for him.”

Hoseok nods, eyes glued to the scene. “He’s been gone. This is just confirmation.” Jin bites his fist to avoid gasping too loudly.

Inside the stairwell, Taehyung shifts, one shoulder tense. “I didn’t think you’d ever figure it out,” he says, eyes flickering toward Jungkook for a second, just a second. “You’re so damn clueless.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says, smiling faintly, embarrassed. “I guess I didn’t want to hope it was you. Because… if it wasn’t, I think I would’ve been disappointed.” That catches Taehyung off guard.

He straightens just a bit, just enough that his facade wavers, “You wanted it to be me?” he asks, voice low.

Jungkook’s fingers tighten around his bag. “Yeah,” he says, almost breathless. “I did.”

For a second, no one says anything.

Then Taehyung scoffs softly, almost a laugh, almost a sigh. He rubs his palm across his nape like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

“You’re such an idiot,” he says, but there’s no venom in it. Only quiet affection. “I was losing sleep over that stupid locker.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispers shyly. “I caught you.”

Taehyung winces and finally, finally, looks at him properly.

Their eyes meet.

Jin clamps a hand over Hoseok’s mouth before he can squeal. Yoongi murmurs, “Shit,” like he just witnessed a season finale.

“You’re not mad?” Taehyung asks. “That I didn’t tell you?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “You were… saying things you couldn’t say out loud. I understand that.”

Taehyung looks like he might actually combust. He lowers his gaze, teeth sinking into his lower lip. “You’re… not supposed to be this good at this.”

“I’m not,” Jungkook says, a breath of laughter slipping from him. “I’m just telling the truth.”

Silence hangs between them again. And then, Taehyung speaks, so quietly they almost missed it, “You’re the only one who made it hard to stay cold.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly. Jin’s jaw drops. Hoseok makes the tiniest noise behind his lips. And Jungkook, sweet, stunned Jungkook, takes a step up. They’re almost eye level now.

“Can I like you too, then?” he asks. “Out loud this time?”

Taehyung’s voice is almost too low to hear. “...I guess.”

Just then, someone else turns the corner. Revealing the blonde-haired, Jimin slows down, noticing the three boys crouched and pressed to the stairwell entrance like children spying on adults. “What the hell are you guys doing?” he hisses.

Hoseok turns, breathless with glee. “They’re confessing. They’re actually confessing!”

Jimin’s eyes go huge. “Wait, what? Who?”

“Taehyung and Jungkook!” Jin squeals, slapping his arm.

Yoongi smirks. “It’s like a drama. We got front row seats.”

Jimin’s mouth drops. He leans in beside Hoseok, craning his neck to see through the crack in the door.

Inside, Jungkook is blushing so hard it looks painful. “I–I really like the way you write. And how you notice things about me that no one else does.”

Taehyung’s arms are still crossed, but his expression has softened. Just a little. “You looked… happy reading them,” he murmurs. “That was enough... I guess uh–”

“OH MY GOD,” Jimin squeaks, nearly tripping backward. “They’re so cute! Are you kidding me?!?”

Hoseok waves him off with a frantic gesture. “Shut up, shut up, they’re still going!”

“So…” Jungkook hesitates, barely looking up. “You won’t avoid me anymore?”

Taehyung shrugs, looking down at his shoes.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“If you uh… keep smiling like that, maybe I won’t have to.” Taehyung internally winces. God, he's so bad at this.

And then–

CLUNK.

The stairwell door swings open with a force no one could’ve anticipated. A full pile of limbs comes crashing through in an avalanche of guilty crouches, wide eyes, and milk that somehow sails through the air and hits the floor with a pitiful splat.

Taehyung jolts, blinking. Jungkook nearly jumps out of his skin.

They all stare at each other. Frozen. Nobody moves.

“Uh,” Jin says, deadpan from the floor, still half on top of Yoongi’s leg. “Hi.”

Jungkook’s mouth falls open. His ears turn crimson. “H-Hyung?!”

Taehyung’s eyes narrow, his voice dangerously low. “What the hell are you all doing here?”

Hoseok’s hands fly up. “It’s not what it looks like!”

“It looks like all of you were eavesdropping,” Taehyung says flatly, his voice low and cold, walls snapping back into place like armor.

Yoongi, unfazed, sits up slowly. “Because we were.”

Jimin, arms crossed, glares at all three of them. “I already knew they liked each other!” he huffs, offended. “Why didn’t you tell me you were planning a stakeout?!”

Jin stammers, “We didn’t think you’d be–”

“I literally would've brought snacks!” Jimin cries, throwing his hands up. “I’ve been waiting for this moment! And you didn’t even text?!”

“Wow,” Yoongi says, nodding. “You’re worse than Hoseok.”

“Hey!” Hoseok laughs, not even offended. “He’s got a point, though.”

“Wait,” Jungkook says slowly, still pink from neck to ears, “I just… how long were you standing there?”

“Long enough,” Jin says smugly. “You guys are adorable.”

Taehyung growls, stepping away from the wall. “I’m done. I hate all of you. I’m leaving.”

But Hoseok laughs, not moving out of the way. “Aww, come on, Tae! Don’t be like that. It was romantic! Really! We teared up!”

Taehyung shoots them a deadly look and tries to walk off, but Jimin casually grabs him by the collar.

“Where do you think you’re going, Romeo?” Jimin says. “You finally bare your soul, and now you’re ghosting?”

“I did not ‘bare my soul,’” Taehyung snaps, ears flaming. He growls, yanking his arm away. “I’m leaving. Goodbye.”

He turns sharply, heading for the hallway, but not before Hoseok calls out, “You could at least say thank you, Mr. Mystery Note!” That stops Taehyung.

He glances back just enough for everyone to catch the deep flush blooming across his cheeks. His jaw flexes, eyes darting anywhere but Jungkook’s.

"…Shut up,” he mutters, and then stomps off down the hallway. The group watches him go.
There’s a beat of silence.

Then Jungkook mumbles, still pink and dazed. “I didn’t even know I said all that out loud.”

“You really did,” Jimin says, smiling, stepping closer to pat him on the shoulder.

Jungkook covers his face with both hands.

Yoongi yawns. “Alright. That was exhausting. Can we eat now?”

“You literally did nothing,” Jimin snaps.

“I emotionally supported you all,” Yoongi replies coolly. “From the shadows. Like Batman.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Um, I should… probably talk to him again. Make sure he’s okay.”

Hoseok nods. “Yeah. He’s just embarrassed. Probably dying inside.”

“Definitely dying inside,” Jin said as he laughed.

“Same,” Jungkook whispers.

“Go after him,” Jimin urges, nudging him gently toward the hallway. “Before he combusts or moves to another country.”

Jungkook takes one last look at his hyungs, some smirking, some smiling, and jogs off, a soft nervous energy to his steps.
The four left behind watch him go.

Jin sighs dreamily. “I love young love.” Jimin glares after the older said that.

“You traitors. I’m never trusting any of you again.”

“Fair,” Hoseok says brightly. “But this was so worth it.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Chapter Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jungkook sat at the edge of Namjoon’s bed, a worn sweater drowning his frame, sleeves tugged over his palms. His leg bounced restlessly, betraying nerves he hadn’t managed to bury all day. He’d barely touched his lunch. Barely looked at his phone. Not because Taehyung hadn’t messaged, but because he had, and Jungkook hadn’t known how to reply.

Across from him, Namjoon sat cross-legged against the headboard, book in his lap, thumb tucked between the pages to keep his place. He wasn’t reading anymore. He hadn’t been for a while. But he didn’t say anything, didn’t rush him, just waited, gaze soft, anchoring.

He drew in a slow breath, eyes trained on the carpet. “Hyung…” His voice cracked slightly. “Can I ask you something weird?”

Namjoon hummed, tone light but open. “You always do.”

He let out a quiet laugh, more of a breath, really, before falling silent again. He looked up for a second, searching Namjoon’s face like maybe he’d find the words reflected back at him.

“What if someone… keeps doing these little things for you?” he started, voice barely above a whisper. “Like… notes. Snacks. All quiet, like they’re trying not to get caught. But you do catch them. And they still don’t say anything.”

Namjoon didn’t move. His book sat forgotten in his lap now, full attention on Jungkook. He didn’t interrupt.

His fingers twisted in the hem of his sweater. “And when you finally get the chance to talk about it, like, really talk, they just… deflect. Or freeze up. Like they’re scared to admit what it all means.”

A pause stretched between them.

Jungkook looked up, throat tight. “What if they never say it? What if they don’t actually mean it?”

Namjoon let the quiet settle. Then he exhaled slowly and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “They’ve already said it, Jungkook,” he said gently. “Just not with words.”

His eyes fluttered shut for a second, like the sentence hit deeper than he expected. “But what if I need to hear it?” he murmured. “What if… I need to know it’s real?”

Namjoon nodded, his voice warm but steady. “Wanting to be sure doesn’t make you selfish.” He paused, then added, “But sometimes… People don’t know how to say something until they feel safe enough to say it. Especially when what they feel is big. And scary. And vulnerable.”

Jungkook stared at him, lip caught between his teeth.

“I don’t want to pressure him,” he whispered, admitting it at last. “I just… want to understand. I want to make it easier for him. But I don’t even know how to do that.”

Namjoon’s smile was faint but full of something grounded. “By showing him it’s okay to take his time,” he said. “By being there, even if it’s quiet. Especially then.”

He nodded slowly, the knot in his chest loosening bit by bit. “I told him I liked it,” he said suddenly, voice small but certain. “The letters. I told him I kept every single one.”

Namjoon’s eyes softened with pride. “Then he knows. He might be scared. But trust me… he knows.” Jungkook gave a fragile smile, then leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, rubbing his palms together.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The soft light spilled through the curtains, across Jungkook’s desk. He sat there, the notebook open but empty before him, heart fluttering like restless wings. The quiet in his room felt heavier than usual, as if every breath he took carried the weight of the words he hadn’t yet found.

His fingers curled tightly around the pen, hesitant to touch paper. What if the words came out wrong? Too stiff? Too much? Not enough?

He tapped the pen nervously against the wood, the soft clicking louder in the quiet room. Then, with a sudden burst, he scribbled a line. But as soon as it appeared, the awkwardness of the words struck him, too formal, too forced. He reread the sentence, cheeks heating. This isn’t me

With a frustrated sigh, he crumpled the paper in his hands and tossed it onto the growing pile on the floor.

“No…” he whispered to himself. “No, no, no. Too formal. Too cheesy…” His gaze dropped to the scattered sheets. “Not like me at all.”

He picked up the pen again, determination warring with uncertainty. This time the words came slowly, hesitantly, uneven like the first steps of a shy dance. Each line felt fragile, weighted with self-doubt, like he was balancing on a thin wire.

His breath caught in his throat, the silence around him growing heavier, like it was waiting for him to give in. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, reminding himself why he was doing this at all.

For Taehyung.

For the moments when Taehyung’s little smile caught the sunlight just right. For the little things, letters, snacks, the way his eyes softened when he thought no one was looking. For the quiet hope Jungkook held deep inside, too shy to say aloud. Slowly, his fingers moved again, this time more sure, more gentle. The words that spilled onto the page were soft, simple, just like him.

“In quiet moments, your smile stays with me, like a secret song only I can hear.”

“Thank you for the little things you do, I hope you feel what I’m too shy to say.”
-"Someone who cares, as well.”

He traced the words with trembling fingertips, feeling the weight lift just a little. It wasn’t perfect, but it was true. And somehow, that was enough.

In the morning, the engine hummed low beneath them as the car rolled slowly into the university parking lot, the air inside filled with that strange hush that came with knowing something unspoken still lingered in the air.

He sat curled in the passenger seat, his bag clutched tightly to his chest, fingers fiddling with the zipper. His eyes were locked on the letter inside, a neatly folded piece of paper resting between the pages of his notebook. The corners were already worn from his nervous fingers. It felt heavier than anything he had ever carried.

Namjoon glanced at him. “You okay?”

He nodded quickly, but his gaze stayed fixed on his lap. “Yeah. Just… nervous.”

Namjoon smiled gently, turning down the music. “Is it about the letters?” Jungkook blinked, surprised. But of course. Namjoon always knew.

He hesitated, then let the confession slip out in a breathy whisper. “It’s for Taehyung-hyung.”

Namjoon didn’t look shocked, just proud. His smile softened, touched with something warm and understanding. “Ah,” he said simply, like everything made sense now. “You wrote one?.”

Jungkook gave a sheepish nod. “Took me all night. I kept rewriting it.”

“You don’t have to make it perfect,” Namjoon murmured, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “Just make it honest.” He ducked his head, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

“I tried…”

Namjoon parked the car, putting it in park with a soft click. “Then that’s more than enough. He’ll get it, Jungkook. Even if he pretends he doesn’t.”

Jungkook stepped out of the car and adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder. He smoothed down the hem of his dress, a soft lavender color that swayed gently in the breeze, cinched just enough at the waist with a little ribbon detail at the collar. The fabric shimmered faintly in the light, catching hints of blue and lilac with every step.

He had styled his hair a little more today, tucked neatly behind one ear, and he wore his favorite white cardigan over the dress, the sleeves long enough to hide the way his hands trembled.

It wasn’t loud or dramatic. But it was pretty. And it felt like him. It felt like something he hoped Taehyung would see.

Namjoon looked at him with that same fond, older-brother smile, the kind that said I see you, and you’re doing just fine all at once.

“Text me after. Let me know how it goes.”

He nodded, cheeks pink. “Okay, hyung.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

By break time, the hallways were buzzing with students, voices echoing off walls, shoes squeaking against tile. He wandered through the halls, trying to calm the nerves fluttering violently in his stomach. His palms were damp. His throat dry.

He found Taehyung in the library, hunched over a table near the back corner where the light filtered in just enough to bathe the space in warmth. Books were stacked neatly beside him, but his focus was half-lost as he scrolled lazily through his phone, earbuds dangling, unread pages beneath his hand.

He approached slowly, heart hammering. He didn’t know what scared him more, that Taehyung might not like it… or that he would.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispered, sliding into the seat beside him.

Taehyung didn’t look up right away. Just nodded, cool as always. “Hey.”

The moment stretched, unbearably long. He could hear his own breathing. The words were caught in his throat like syrup, slow and thick. Then, without speaking, he pulled the letter from his notebook and nudged it across the table.

Taehyung’s eyes flicked to the envelope. He paused. Didn’t touch it. Just stared at it for a moment like it was foreign, delicate, and dangerous. "What’s this?” he asked flatly, voice low but unreadable.

Jungkook shrugged, trying to keep it light, though his ears were flushed pink. “Just… read it when you have time.”

Taehyung’s fingers reached out, slow and hesitant. He picked it up carefully, slipping it between the pages of his book like he hadn’t even read it yet, but Jungkook noticed the way his hand trembled, just slightly. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“...Okay,” Taehyung said coolly. But his voice was just a little strained, like he was holding back something, words, panic, a smile maybe. It was impossible to tell.

He didn’t look at Jungkook.

And Jungkook didn’t press. He nodded, biting back the smile curling at the corners of his lips, then stood up, pretending not to notice the way Taehyung’s ears were redder than usual.

As he walked away, heart pounding and steps light, he missed how Taehyung slowly pulled the letter back out again the moment he disappeared behind the shelf. His hand hovered, hesitant, then unfolded the page with deliberate care.

The words were small and neat, written in Jungkook’s careful print.

“In quiet moments, your smile stays with me, like a secret song only I can hear.”

“Thank you for the little things you do, I hope you feel what I’m too shy to say.”
-Someone who cares, as well.”

Taehyung closed the letter slowly, his lips parting in stunned silence, and exhaled shakily.

“God,” he whispered under his breath, pressing the page to his chest for half a second before stuffing it back in the book and slamming it shut. He looked up just in time to see Jimin and Hoseok at the far end of the library, peeking behind a bookshelf.

“Don’t say a word,” he mouthed, glaring.

They didn’t say anything.

But their smug, giddy grins said everything.

The last bell of the day echoed faintly through the halls, trailing behind a chorus of rustling bags and tired yawns. Jungkook stood by the classroom door, arms folded tightly over his chest as he waited for the others to finish packing up. His sleeves had slipped over his palms again, and he didn’t bother fixing them, he liked the way they felt, like a small shield against the butterflies currently wreaking havoc in his stomach.

Taehyung hadn’t said anything about the letter.

Not during class. Not in passing. Not with even a glance.

But he had caught the way his fingers fidgeted with his pencil the entire lecture. How Taehyung tapped the desk in strange rhythms, how his leg bounced beneath the table like a tiny, restless secret. He knew.

And now the others were filing out, Jimin, Hoseok, and also Yoongi, and Jin, who had wandered in near the end of class to remind them all about dinner plans and ended up staying for the gossip. They’re both not even in this class.

They were already halfway through the doorway when Taehyung suddenly cleared his throat, loud enough to pause them.

“Wait– uh, can you guys go ahead without us?” Taehyung said, voice tight, casual in that very not-casual way.

Jungkook’s heart immediately jumped.

Jimin spun around, raising a brow. “Us?”

Taehyung waved a hand vaguely toward Jungkook without looking at him. “Yeah. Me and Jungkook. I just– there’s something I need to say.”

The silence that followed was so immediate, it nearly rang.

“Oh?” Hoseok blinked, eyes glinting. “You need to say something?”

“Suddenly urgent,” Yoongi murmured under his breath with a smirk.

Jimin practically squealed. “Oh my god.”

Taehyung groaned under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can you not–”

But they were already snickering on their way out, Jimin whispering something too obvious in Hoseok’s ear, while Yoongi gave Jungkook a slow, pointed thumbs-up.

Jin lingered just long enough to ruffle Jungkook’s hair on his way past, leaning in with a grin. “Good luck, Casanova,” he whispered teasingly before slipping out with the rest.

The door closed behind them, and the silence they left behind felt way too loud.

Jungkook shifted his weight nervously, hugging his bag to his chest.

Taehyung was still standing by the desk, hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders tense like he’d been holding his breath since this morning. His eyes flicked over briefly, just a glance, and then back to the floor.

The quiet buzzed between them.

And then, finally, Taehyung cleared his throat again “So,” he started, tone flat. “That dress.”

Jungkook blinked, confused. “What?”

Taehyung exhaled, cheeks tinged with something close to pink as he scratched the back of his neck. “The one you wore today.” He looked down at himself without thinking. The soft purple fabric still caught the light gently as he shifted.

“Oh…”

Taehyung looked at him again, this time longer. Eyes softer.

“It looked…” he trailed off, frowning at the air, as if the words were physically fighting him. “Whatever. It was cute, okay? You looked… uh– pretty.”

He felt the heat rush straight to his ears.

Taehyung caught his reaction and immediately scowled like it wasn’t his fault. “Don’t get all weird about it! I’m just saying. It looked… nice.”

He blinked, lips twitching despite himself. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to say it like that,” Taehyung mumbled, looking away quickly.

Another beat passed. Jungkook was sure he could hear his own heartbeat thudding under his skin. Then Taehyung spoke again, quieter this time, low and almost shy, like something that might vanish if he said it too loud. “So, um…” His fingers curled inside his pocket. “We don’t have class tomorrow, right?”

He shook his head slowly. “No…”

“Cool. Uh– do you wanna… hang out tomorrow?”

Jungkook blinked. Is this really happening?

Taehyung’s eyes darted to the side, lips pressed tightly together.

“Like– not a thing or anything,” he added quickly. “Just hanging out. You and me. Like normal. Or Yeah--”

Jungkook stared, heart skipping in that dangerous, hopeful kind of way.

“Just us?”

Taehyung nodded, barely. “Yeah. Just us.”

He smiled, soft and small. “Okay.”

And even though Taehyung tried to nod coolly and shrug it off like it was no big deal, Jungkook didn’t miss the way his shoulders relaxed just a little. Or the faintest smile ghosting at the corners of his mouth as they finally stepped out of the classroom together, walking side by side into the sunlit hallway, like something quiet had changed.

Something good.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Sunlight spilled across Jungkook’s bedroom floor in soft ribbons of warmth, and for once, he didn’t feel nervous about it being a weekend. He stood in front of his mirror, brushing his fingers gently over the folds of the lilac skirt he’d picked out the night before.
It flared softly around his thighs, light and playful, paired with a white blouse that had subtle puffed sleeves and a tiny embroidered heart near the hem. Something about it felt… right. Not too loud. Just soft enough for him to feel like himself.

He twisted slightly, cheeks coloring as he fixed his hair, curled at the ends, and lightly tousled. A single silver clip held one side in place. His chest fluttered.

"Is this too much?" he whispered to no one, biting his lip. Then he thought of Taehyung, of the way he said he looked pretty yesterday, all while trying to look away and hide how pink his ears had gotten.

A small smile bloomed on his lips. "It’s just right."

The mall buzzed faintly with Saturday chatter, kids trailing behind parents, couples hand in hand, the occasional hum of a café milk frother or a distant announcement from the food court.

Taehyung stood at the entrance when Jungkook arrived, hands tucked into the pockets of his beige coat, scarf lazily thrown around his neck. His expression, cool as ever, didn’t change right away, but Jungkook didn’t miss the pause, the way Taehyung’s gaze lingered just a second too long on his outfit before flicking away with a small cough.

“You–” Taehyung cleared his throat, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “You wore… that.”

Jungkook blinked, tugging at the hem of his skirt nervously. “Do you not like it…?”

“I didn’t say that.” Taehyung looked everywhere but at him. “It’s just… you look decent. ”

He blinked again. “Huh?”

“I said– You look decent, okay?” Taehyung huffed, cheeks visibly coloring now as he turned away slightly. “Don’t make me say it again.”

He bit back a grin, heart squeezing in the best way. “Okay,” he whispered, shy but warm. “Thank you, hyung.”

They wandered aimlessly at first, drifting in and out of stores without really buying anything. He let his fingers linger on soft fabrics, Taehyung occasionally holding something up for him to see and then quickly pretending he hadn’t.

And then they saw it, tucked between a claw machine and a bubble tea stand. The photobooth.

Jungkook pointed at it before he could think. “Let’s go in.”

Taehyung froze. “What? Now?”

“Yeah!” he was already tugging his sleeve. “Just a few pictures.”

“…Fine,” Taehyung muttered, trying to hide the way his lips tugged upward.

The inside was even smaller than he expected, narrow and warm with the faint scent of strawberry gum and static electricity. Taehyung sat first, stiff and folded up against the side. Jungkook hesitated. There was hardly any room left.

“I, uh– there’s no space,” He mumbled, blinking.

“Just sit,” Taehyung grumbled, waving vaguely at his lap. “It’s fine. Not like it’s a big deal.”

Jungkook's eyes widened slightly, ears burning. “On your lap?”

“It’s not like I’m offering my legs out of… you know–,” Taehyung muttered, though his voice was noticeably less steady now. “It’s just physics.”

Shaking with nervous laughter, he slowly perched himself on Taehyung’s lap, adjusting his skirt carefully so it wouldn’t wrinkle too much. His back brushed Taehyung’s chest, and he could feel the tension in the way Taehyung suddenly held his breath.

“Comfortable?” Taehyung asked, voice strangled.

“I mean… yeah,” Jungkook said softly, trying not to melt. “You okay, hyung?”

“I’m fine,” Taehyung said through gritted teeth, already pink from ear to collarbone. “Perfectly fine.”

Jungkook tried not to giggle.

The machine beeped, giving them a countdown. Jungkook turned toward the camera and smiled, cheeks puffed slightly, peace signs in both hands.

Click.

Then, on the next shot, he tilted his head just a little, toward Taehyung, smile softening into something more real. He could feel Taehyung’s breath hitch behind him.

Taehyung turned to look at him right as the flash went off.

Click.

They froze.

The screen blinked. Two more shots left.

“…You’re gonna ruin me with looks like that,” Taehyung muttered behind him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Taehyung grumbled. “Just– pose.”

The final photo caught them mid-laughter, Jungkook’s head leaning back against Taehyung’s shoulder, Taehyung trying to hide his grin behind a scowl. When they stepped out, Jungkook was still laughing quietly. “I told you it’d be fun,” he muttered.

The older didn’t say anything, but he held onto the photo strip longer than necessary before slipping it into his coat pocket. Later, walking through a quieter part of the mall, past a bookstore and out onto a pedestrian path, Jungkook stumbled over a crack in the pavement.

“Ah–!”

Taehyung’s hand caught his just in time, fingers lacing through instinctively. “I’ve got you.”

He looked up, wide-eyed, his heart thudding. “T-Thank you…”

They didn’t let go. Just walked that way, quietly, until the sky shifted into soft twilight and stars began to prick the navy blue. On a small grassy hill, they lay side by side. His skirt fanned around him like a lilac flower, hair splayed on the grass, breathing in the stillness of the moment.

Taehyung was close. Too close. Or maybe just close enough.

“This feels nice,” Jungkook whispered.

“Mhm.”

“…Thank you for today.”

Taehyung turned his head slightly, watching him through half-lidded eyes. “It wasn’t bad. Hanging out with you.”

He smiled up at the stars. “Wow, what a glowing review.”

Taehyung groaned. “Don’t push it.”

They stayed like that for a while, shoulders brushing, the silence comfortable. When he tilted his head again, he caught Taehyung staring, and this time…

Taehyung didn’t look away.

Neither did he.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

After that night, after the quiet walk beneath scattered stars and Taehyung’s hand holding his so gently it still lingered like warmth on Jungkook’s skin, they didn’t talk about it.

Not really.

There was no label, no big moment of definition. Just an unspoken shift. A new kind of closeness that settled between them like a secret only they knew.

They didn’t plan anything outright. It just… kept happening. Like the next weekend, when Taehyung texted him, “You free today? There's this art exhibit thing.”

And Jungkook grinned at his phone, already pulling out a soft beige blouse to match his flowy trousers. Taehyung didn’t say it, but Jungkook saw it in the way his eyes darted away when they met at the gallery, cheeks dusted pink.

He walked beside Jungkook like he was afraid to bump into him, but wanted to all the same. When they stood in front of a watercolor piece that reminded Jungkook of summer, Taehyung murmured, "This one looks like you."

And then cleared his throat, muttering, “I mean– not that you’re a painting. Just– yup.”

Jungkook just smiled, heart blooming.

The week after that, Taehyung found him by the vending machines after class.

“Wanna go to the thrift market on Saturday? I heard they have old CDs or something.”

He agreed instantly.

That day, he wore an oversized cardigan over a cute shirt, soft jeans, and small white clips pinning back his fringe. Taehyung stared for a moment too long before pretending to look at a pigeon.

They walked through the market together, Taehyung holding up jackets and Jungkook giggling at the tackiest shirts he could find. At one point, he found a vintage keychain shaped like a tiny sun and shyly bought it.

Later, when Taehyung dropped him off at home, he found it looped onto the zipper of his own backpack.

No one said a word about it.

It wasn’t always outings. Sometimes, it was just sitting side by side in the library, pretending to study. he would doodle on Taehyung’s notes, and Taehyung would call him annoying, but never once asked him to stop.

Sometimes it was sharing headphones while lying back on the campus lawn, the edge of Jungkook’s skirt fluttering in the wind, Taehyung’s hand inches away but never quite touching, until it did, one time, for a second too long.

And when he looked over, Taehyung was already looking at him

The best ones, though, were the late-night ones.

Like when Taehyung invited him to watch the stars again, but this time with snacks. They ended up sharing Taehyung’s hoodie, lying on their backs with fingers brushing, and Jungkook dozed off for a moment, warm and full of something soft and steady.

Or when they visited a quiet café by the edge of the river. Jungkook wore a pale pink top tucked into a white skirt, and Taehyung told him, in the gentlest voice, “You look like you belong in spring.”

He smiled all day after that. He always makes sure he’s wearing something really nice.

No one else asked, but everyone clearly knew.

Jimin gave him looks in class. Hoseok grinned every time Taehyung casually walked Jungkook to the gate. Even Jin winked at him once, making him nearly choke on his juice.

Still, they never said it out loud.

They just kept hanging out, hearts slowly getting tangled together like ribbon, one soft knot at a time.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The sky was fading into lavender when Jungkook arrived at Jin’s house, soft clouds streaked like cotton candy above the rooftops. He stood outside for a moment, adjusting the hem of his pink-colored skirt, the fabric catching the breeze just a little as it flowed softly around his thighs. The lavender ribbon tied in his hair matched the shimmer on his eyes. He felt… cute. Nervous, but cute.

And also really embarrassed since these days he kept forgetting his motto about arriving earlier than the assigned time. Ugh.

Namjoon had dropped him off, offering a mild, “Behave,” with a teasing grin, and he had only rolled his eyes before nervously stepping up to the door, heart tapping like it always did when he knew Taehyung would be inside.

Jin opened the door dramatically, wearing a silk robe over his usual jeans like a mad host from a weird variety show. “The star of the show is here!” he sang, sweeping him inside. “We can finally begin.”

The moment he stepped into the warmly lit house, laughter and chatter bubbled from the living room.

And then–

“Damn,” Yoongi murmured lowly from the couch as he looked up, blinking once at Jungkook’s outfit. “You look nice, Jungkook.”

Jungkook blinked. “Oh– uh. Thanks, hyung.”

“Cute,” Hoseok whispered behind his hand to Jimin, who giggled softly, eyes already sparkling with mischief.

But Taehyung…

Taehyung just stared.

He was halfway through a drink, the can paused mid-air. His eyes followed Jungkook in a way that was almost startled,like he wasn’t expecting to be caught off guard. His lips parted slightly, then closed again. He didn’t say anything. Just sat there in his corner of the couch, still, quiet, and completely stunned.

This boy will be the death of him.

Jungkook’s cheeks went warm. He looked away, stepping closer to where Jimin was patting the space beside him, avoiding Taehyung’s eyes even as he felt them flicker back again.

They spent the next hour or so like that, gathered in the living room with the coffee table full of snacks, chips, and soda cans. The speakers played low music in the background, and the six of them sat scattered across cushions and the couch, laughing over stupid card games and wild guessing rounds of charades.

Taehyung eventually relaxed again, throwing pillows at Hoseok during one particularly heated round of “Heads Up.” Jungkook laughed so hard he nearly choked on a grape, and Jimin had to pat his back while wheezing.

Then, when the energy mellowed and everyone sank a little deeper into the cushions, Jin clapped his hands dramatically. “Alright. It’s time. We can’t have a night like this without a classic truth or dare.”

“Oh god,” Yoongi groaned, already regretting everything.

“No chickening out!” Jin pointed at him sternly.

They formed a loose circle, Jungkook sitting between Jimin and Hoseok now, legs tucked prettily under himself. Taehyung was across from him, lounging with one arm draped behind Yoongi on the couch. He was quiet again, eyes only flicking to Jungkook every so often.

The dares started out simple, make a weird noise, text your ex a happy birthday, bite into a lemon. Hoseok dared Jin to sing his most dramatic line, which Jin did with way too much vibrato. Yoongi dared Hoseok to dance to no music, and Hoseok performed like the living room was his stage.

But then it was Jimin’s turn. “Truth,” he said, sipping from his soda with one raised brow.

Jin smirked. “Okay, truth– have you ever had a crush on someone in this room?”

The room instantly buzzed. “Ooooh,” Hoseok grinned.

Jimin didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Everyone froze.

“What?” Jungkook blinked.

“Who?!” Hoseok gasped, nudging Jimin’s shoulder like a child on sugar.

Jimin smiled slowly, biting his bottom lip just a little as his eyes slid, just briefly, to Yoongi, who was suddenly very busy staring into his cup. The moment passed like a ripple. But Jungkook saw it. He saw the softest hint of pink dust Yoongi’s ears.
“Oh wow,” Jin whispered, clapping a hand over his mouth. “This is real.”

“No more questions,” Jimin announced with a dramatic flourish, curling into Hoseok and sipping his soda like nothing had happened. Everyone burst out laughing, but Yoongi didn’t say anything. He just rolled his eyes, softly, and maybe, maybe, nudged his knee closer to Jimin’s under the table.

Jungkook’s heart felt full.

Not just from the laughter, or the games, or the memory of Taehyung looking at him like he was the only one glowing, but from this.
The warmth of being with people who felt like home.

Even if one of them still made his heart skip like it was trying to learn to dance.

The house had finally settled into the deep, soft hush that only came with very late hours, when the noise of laughter and games had faded into sleepy yawns, lights were dimmed, and the hum of the quiet outside pressed gently against the windows.

Jin’s house, luxurious and vast, now felt cocooned in silence. Most of the others had found rooms and corners to sleep in, Hoseok and Yoongi had claimed the entertainment room with extra blankets and a mattress dragged in. Jin had disappeared to his own bedroom after making sure everyone had everything they needed.

And Taehyung, after an unusually long and dazed silence post-truth-or-dare, had mumbled a goodnight and quietly closed the door to one of the guest rooms upstairs, cheeks still visibly flushed from Jungkook's presence that evening.

He had changed into his pajamas by then, the ones he brought with a little hesitation but decided to wear anyway. The silky, pale peach fabric of the loose button-up shirt slipped over his shoulders like water, the top buttons undone and a sliver of his collarbone and the soft slope of his chest exposed, just enough to make him fidget.

The shorts that matched rode high on his pale thighs, making his legs look even longer. He sat curled beneath the covers, hugging a pillow to his chest, looking entirely too soft and a little vulnerable, skin glowing under the amber bedside lamp, hair slightly tousled.

But he wasn’t sleeping. Not yet.

He kept thinking about the way Taehyung looked at him earlier, how he froze when Jungkook walked into the house, how he looked like he was trying so hard not to stare. He smiled a little into his pillow.

A knock, soft and almost unsure, tapped on the door. He sat up slowly. “Come in?”

The door creaked open, and Jimin poked his head inside, hair messy, wearing oversized blue pajamas with tiny cartoon clouds on them. He blinked once, saw Jungkook, then paused in the doorway.

“…Koo, why do you look like a romance novel cover?” he teased lightly, walking in and quietly shutting the door.

Jungkook squeaked, immediately pulling the pillow tighter against his chest. “Don’t say that!”

“You mean, you didn’t mean to be the prettiest person in this entire house?” Jimin raised a brow as he flopped onto the bed beside him. “Too late.”

Jungkook mumbled something incoherent, hiding his face as his ears turned pink.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the kind that could only exist between two people who’d shared hundreds of these quiet late hours before.

Jimin turned to him slowly. “Koo,” he said gently, “can I ask you something?”

He peeked out from behind the pillow. “Of course, hyung.”

“What’s going on with you and Taehyung?”

Jungkook’s blush deepened instantly. “W-What do you mean?”

Jimin raised a brow, resting his chin on his knee. “Oh, come on. You gave him a love letter in the library. You literally sat on his lap in a photo booth.”

He groaned, covering his face with both hands. “Why do you know everything?!”

“I have my sources, and also because you’re obvious,” Jimin giggled. “So is he.”

He peeked out slowly, voice soft. “You think… it’s okay? That he knows?”

“I know he knows,” Jimin said. “Koo… Taehyung looks at you like you’re made of stars and soft music. He gets so flustered it’s painful to watch.”

He bit his lower lip. Then, quietly, he murmured, “We… went on a date.”

Jimin blinked. “What?”

“It wasn’t, like, officially official,” Jungkook said quickly, twiddling with a loose thread on the pillowcase. “He just asked me if I wanted to hang out on our free day. And… we went to the mall. Took photobooth pictures. We walked around. He held my hand.”

Jimin stared at him, stunned into silence.

Jungkook’s voice softened to a whisper. “Then we watched the stars together.”

“…Oh my god,” Jimin breathed, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “And you didn’t tell me?! Jungkook!”

“I-I wanted to, but I didn’t even know what it was at first,” he admitted. “It felt like a dream.”

Jimin laughed, but his eyes were warm. “You’re living a romance drama and just forgot to tell me?”

“I didn’t forget! I just–” Jungkook huffed. “I didn’t know how to say it. It was really nice. And quiet. He… didn’t say much. But he looked at me like he meant everything.”

Jimin’s smile softened. “That’s probably how Taehyung is. He says the loudest things without words.”

He nodded slowly, brushing his fingers over the neckline of his silky shirt. “He told me I looked decent… right before he asked me to hang out. That’s like him calling me pretty– I think I almost exploded.”

They both giggled under their breath like schoolgirls at a sleepover. After a moment, Jimin leaned back. “You really like him, don’t you?”

“I do,” He whispered, almost afraid to say it aloud. “I really do.”

There was a pause, and then Jungkook tilted his head. “What about you and Yoongi hyung?”

Jimin’s eyes widened slightly. “W-What?”

“You blushed when he called you cute earlier,” Jungkook teased.

Jimin groaned and face-planted into a pillow. “You’re evil.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

Jimin mumbled, “Maybe I like him. A little.”

He gasped dramatically. “Hyung!”

“Okay, okay, fine!” The older rolled over, covering his face. “Yes, maybe more than a little. He’s just… I don’t know. He makes me feel like I don’t have to be perfect. He just likes me. Me, exactly how I am.”

Jungkook smiled, warm and understanding. “That’s really nice.”

They lay like that for a while, wrapped in moonlight and shared secrets, the night quietly folding in around them. And when Jimin yawned and stood up to leave, ruffling his hair on his way out, Jungkook stayed still, eyes on the ceiling, his fingers gently curling over the silky fabric at his chest.

Taehyung liked him.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The house was asleep. Quiet, heavy silence had settled like a blanket over Jin’s mansion? House? He's not really sure.

Dimmed lamps casting shadows over the ornate furniture and polished floors. The night had gotten cooler, and the moon hung low in the sky outside, silver light pooling softly on the windowsills.

Jungkook couldn’t sleep.

He had tried. Tossed and turned in the giant bed, shifting the weight of the covers, hugging the pillow Jimin had flattened earlier. But something about the quiet was too loud tonight, too much warmth in his chest, too much softness pressed beneath his skin. He kept thinking about what he’d told Jimin and how everything between him and Taehyung felt like the start of something… nice.

His throat was a little dry, too.

So, barefoot and careful, he slipped out of bed and padded out into the hallway, holding the collar of his pajama shirt together with one hand. The fabric still fell slightly open, exposing the soft slope of his chest and collarbones with every step. The air outside the room was cooler, brushing his legs where the hem of his shorts rode up high.

The house felt different at night,sleepy, shadowed, unfamiliar. He padded toward the kitchen, squinting through the darkness. But as he turned the corner near the living room, something warm collided right into his chest.

“oh–!” He gasped softly, nearly stumbling back.

A pair of hands immediately reached out to steady him.

“S–Sorry–!” It was a whisper. Familiar. Stunned.

Jungkook’s eyes widened in the dark. “...Tae?”

Moonlight from a nearby window cut through the room just enough to outline the figure in front of him. And sure enough, it was Taehyung, wearing a loose black t-shirt and soft gray sweatpants, barefoot just like him. His hair was messy, like he’d just woken up, and his hand lingered awkwardly against Jungkook’s arm as if unsure whether to pull back or not.

He blinked up at him. They were close. Very close.

Their chests had fully bumped into each other in the dark, and now that the moment had slowed down… Jungkook could feel the warmth radiating between them.

“I–I couldn’t sleep,” he whispered, his voice shy.

“Me too,” Taehyung murmured, eyes flickering down, then quickly away. “I was getting water.”

“Same…”

There was a pause. Neither of them moved.

Taehyung’s gaze slid back down to Jungkook’s neckline, and his breath caught visibly. In the quiet, he felt the way Taehyung’s fingers twitched at his elbow, hesitant, flustered, as if trying to stop his eyes from wandering further.

“You…” Taehyung swallowed, voice low and rough. “You’re not even trying, are you?”

“Huh?”

“To look like that,” Taehyung mumbled. “You just… do.”

Jungkook’s cheeks flushed instantly. He gripped the silky fabric tighter. “I didn’t mean to– I just… it’s pajamas…”

“I know,” Taehyung said quickly, then added, voice quieter, eyes locked on the soft open part of Jungkook’s chest, “That’s the problem.”

They stood there in the hush of the night, shadows dancing at their feet, barely more than a breath apart. He could hear the rhythm of Taehyung’s breathing. Could feel it too, where their chests had touched just a moment ago. “Sorry for bumping into you,” Jungkook whispered, unsure what to do with his hands.

“I’m not,” Taehyung said without thinking.

They both froze.

Then Taehyung turned around abruptly. “Come on. Water.”

Jungkook blinked, dazed, and quickly followed him like a ghost floating through moonlight. The kitchen was dim, but there was a small pendant light over the sink that Taehyung clicked on. It lit the marble counter in a soft glow. Taehyung opened the fridge for a pitcher and poured it into two glasses. He sat on one of the stools, fiddling with the hem of his shorts, cheeks still pink.

Taehyung placed the glass in front of him without meeting his eyes.

“…Sorry if I scared you earlier,” Jungkook murmured.

“You didn’t.” Taehyung took a sip of water. “I was just… surprised. You looked like a dream.”

Jungkook almost dropped his glass.

Taehyung realized what he said and cleared his throat quickly. “I mean– you always do. You just. Keep doing that.”

“…Oh,” Jungkook said quietly, staring into his drink. “I like hearing that.”

Taehyung glanced at him finally. “Yeah?”

He nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Especially from you.”

The silence that followed was thick, warm, and humming, not heavy. Taehyung leaned against the counter, arms crossed, eyes fixed on him now. And for the first time tonight, he didn’t try to look away.

“You’re really messing with me,” he muttered, but his tone was fond. “Every day.”

“I’m not trying to,” Jungkook whispered. “I just…um, like you.”

Taehyung looked at him, really looked. And something in his gaze softened. Completely.

“I know,” he murmured. “I… I do too.”

Their eyes stayed locked, and for one long second, he thought maybe Taehyung would step closer. But instead, Taehyung ran a hand through his hair, sighing quietly. “You should go back to bed. It’s cold. You’re barely wearing anything.”

Jungkook pouted, clutching his shirt. “It’s not that bad…”

Taehyung gave him a look. “Jungkook.”

“…Fine.”

They walked back to the hallway together, slower now, closer. And when they reached Jungkook’s room, both of them paused at the door. The quiet between them felt different, softer, steadier. He hesitated for a moment… then stepped forward. Without a word, he leaned in and wrapped his arms around Taehyung’s waist, hugging him close.

Taehyung tensed, startled.

But then, slowly, like something melting, his hands came up to Jungkook’s back, holding him gently, carefully, as if Jungkook might disappear if he squeezed too hard. The embrace was warm and uncertain, but perfect. his cheek rested against Taehyung’s chest. He could feel the way his heart beat a little faster beneath his palm.

“…I’m glad I bumped into you,” Jungkook whispered.

Taehyung’s breath caught. And then, voice a little hoarse, he murmured, “Me too.”

They stayed like that for a second longer, just long enough for it to mean something, before Jungkook slowly pulled back.

Taehyung’s hands lingered. Then, with a breathless little laugh, he reached forward and gently tapped the tip of Jungkook’s nose.

“Goodnight, dream.”

He smiled, dazed and glowing. “…Goodnight, Tae.”

The door clicked softly behind him.

And Jungkook stood there for a long moment, hand against his chest, heart thundering, cheeks flushed, lips curved in a stunned little smile, like he'd just stepped out of a scene from the very dream Taehyung had named him after.

Morning came lazily at Jin’s house. The curtains were pulled wide open in the living room, letting sunlight pour over the mismatched pile of blankets where some of them had crashed the night before. The whole place smelled faintly of buttered toast and someone’s leftover strawberry shampoo.

Jungkook, still dressed in his soft sleepwear, now layered with a light cardigan, looked like a vision as he padded down the stairs, hair fluffy, eyes sleepy but sparkly.

"Morning, pretty boy," Jimin muttered as he passed, barely glancing up from his phone. It was a mumbled compliment, casual as always, but sincere.

He blinked and turned red. "Morning, hyung..."

Taehyung, who had been sipping from a mug of tea in the kitchen, very nearly choked when Jungkook entered. The too-loose neckline of his pajama top dipped slightly off his shoulder, exposing a sliver of delicate skin. Taehyung quickly turned his head toward the window and made a face at his tea like it was the culprit.

By mid-afternoon, the group had settled in again, gathered around the living room for another day of lighthearted chaos, playing rounds of card games, shouting over Mario Kart, and laughing so hard at Jimin’s impersonation of Jin that Hoseok had to lie down from stomach cramps.

Taehyung spent most of it hovering between pretending to be annoyed and stealing glances at Jungkook when he thought no one noticed. Jungkook sat on the rug in one of Jin’s oversized sweatshirts, sleeves covering his hands as he giggled over a card game with Jimin and Yoongi.

The living room is warm, lights dimmed to a cozy golden hue. Someone put on a playlist of mellow throwback songs that hum gently in the background. Empty snack bowls and soda bottles scatter across the coffee table, now replaced with a few half-empty soju bottles and mismatched cups.

The group sits in a haphazard circle on plush floor cushions and the edge of the sofa, laughter spilling louder with every passing drink.

Jin clinks his cup against Hoseok’s with a dramatic flourish. “To responsible legal drinking inside the safety of my luxurious mansion!”

Yoongi deadpans, “This is your parents' house.” he muttered, “And you’re the only one who brought a wine glass, hyung.”

“It’s called aesthetic, Min Yoongi.”

Taehyung is sprawled against the arm of the couch, legs stretched out lazily. His face is flushed, eyes a little glazed as he blinks slowly at Jungkook, who’s giggling quietly beside Jimin over their failed attempt to pour a clean shot.

“Tae,” Jin teases, “you’ve been staring at Jungkook for ten minutes straight.”

“I have not,” Taehyung slurs softly, blinking slowly, “I’m admiring the air in that general direction.”

Jungkook chokes on his laugh. With Jimin leaning closer to him to whisper, “He looks really stupid right now, Koo.”

“I’m not,” Taehyung counters, upright suddenly. “I’m just…emotionally hydrated.”

“You mean intoxicated,” Yoongi mutters, sipping lazily from his bottle.

Jungkook hides his grin behind his sleeve, cheeks pink. “I think we should take Tae’s phone.”

“No– no confiscating,” Taehyung protests, fumbling with his cup. “I need it for…art.”

“Art?” Jimin teases, raising his brow.

Taehyung glares, eyes lidded. “You’re all loud and nosey.”

“You’re loud and in love,” Jin fires back with a wink.

“Shut. Up.” Taehyung draws out each word, then mutters to himself, “...but he’s really cute tonight.”

Yoongi, who had been the quietest, nods toward Jungkook’s direction with the faintest smirk. “He always is, get used to it.”

And Jungkook, now red from both alcohol and everyone’s attention, nearly shrinks into the sofa cushion.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

As Jungkook lie on his side in bed, one arm tucked under his pillow, the other loosely draped over his stomach. His cheeks are still warm from the soju they’d passed around hours earlier, his mind hazy but not quite fogged. He’s just beginning to drift off when there’s a knock.

Soft. Hesitant. Then again.

Jungkook blinks, and sits up. “Huh…?”

He slips off the bed, the wood floor cool under his bare feet, and cracks the door open.

And there stands Taehyung.

His hair is messy and his lips parted like he had to hype himself up to knock. His shirt hangs loose on his frame, collar wide enough that his collarbones peek out. His ears, very notably, are pink.

“I… I wasn’t gonna knock,” Taehyung blurts, arms crossed as if to defend himself from the moment. “But then I did. So. Yeah.”

He blinks at him, lips curving into a lazy smile. “You okay?”

“No,” Taehyung mutters. “Yes. Maybe.”

“…Do you wanna come in?”

Taehyung huffs. “I’m not here because I want to be, okay? I just– ugh– shut up.”

His smile widens. He opens the door further, stepping aside. Taehyung stomps in, still barefoot, still pouting like a child being forced to admit he’s cold after refusing to bring a jacket. He stood stiffly while Jungkook closed the door.

“You’re wearing my hoodie again,” Taehyung says accusingly.

“It’s mine now,” Jungkook murmurs, “You gave it to me.”

Taehyung scowls at the floor, cheeks flushing again. “You’re annoying.”

There’s a long pause. Jungkook watches him with soft eyes. Waits.

Taehyung inhales, then lets it out slowly like it hurts to do so. “…You already know how I feel,” he mumbles, voice quieter now, like a secret slipping between walls.

“I do.”

“So I don’t have to say it.”

“I want you to...”

Taehyung, standing near the doorway, eyes sharp and a little wild in the dim light, like a storm barely held in check. His lips pressed into a tight line, his brows knitted in a way that made his heart twist. Suddenly, Taehyung snapped his head toward him with a sharp glare, breaking the silence.

“Why?” Taehyung’s voice was clipped, eyes flashing with something fierce but vulnerable. “You already know.”

Jungkook swallowed, cheeks flushing slightly as he looked up, then quickly back down. “I– um, because I want to hear it from you,” he said softly, voice barely above a whisper. His fingers trembled a little as they traced the soft fabric of the hoodie again. “Not from a letter… not from a snack… from you.”

Taehyung groaned, loud and theatrical, as if Jungkook’s words were a personal attack. He threw himself back onto the bed with a dramatic flop, pulling a pillow over his face. His muffled voice seeped through the soft fabric, thick with mock misery. “This is the worst night of my life.”

He couldn’t help but giggle, the sound light and full of affection. “You’re being so dramatic, hyung.”

Taehyung’s muffled response was sharp and quick. “You’re being so annoying.”

“That makes you cute,” He teased, warmth blooming in his chest.

“Stop talking,” Taehyung snapped, the pillow slipping slightly, revealing his narrowed eyes peeking out.

They lay in a quiet pause, tension and affection mingling in the small space between them. Then, like ripping off a bandage with a shuddering breath, Taehyung blurted out, eyes finally meeting Jungkook’s.

“…I like you, okay?” His voice was rough, a mixture of defiance and fragile honesty. “There. Happy now?”

Jungkook’s breath caught, chest fluttering so hard it almost hurt. He barely dared to whisper, voice trembling slightly. “Say it again.”

Taehyung sat up suddenly, grabbing the pillow and smacking him with it. “I hate you.”

Laughter bubbled up from Jungkook, warm and easy, as he caught the pillow, holding it playfully between them. “You’re the worst at this.”

Pink bloomed across Taehyung’s cheeks, and he snapped back, “I’m trying! You think this is easy?!” His voice cracked a little, frustrated but earnest. “I’ve been denying this for months– like some idiot in a high school drama, writing letters like it’s the 1800s!”

His smile softened, eyes shining with fondness. “I liked the letters.”

Taehyung grumbled, crossing his arms. “I hate that you liked them. It made everything worse.”

Gently, he reached out, taking Taehyung’s hand between his own, fingers trembling slightly but warm. “But you still wrote them.”

Taehyung’s eyes flickered with a mixture of defeat and hope. “…Because I liked you.”

Jungkook’s smile deepened, full of quiet certainty, though a shy blush colored his cheeks. “And I liked you back.”

Taehyung pressed his lips into a thin line, fighting a smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You sure?”

He chuckled softly, the sound barely a breath, eyes flickering up to meet Taehyung’s with a shy light. “I wouldn’t be wearing your hoodie if I didn’t.”

Taehyung’s glare returned, softer this time, almost sheepish, like a boy caught in the glow of a confession. “…You’re so gross.”

Jungkook’s voice was barely above a whisper as he asked, “You’re staying here tonight, right?”

Taehyung stiffened, turning away just a little, arms crossed like a shield. “I don’t see why I have to,” he muttered, clearly trying to sound indifferent but failing to hide the slight tremble in his tone.

Jungkook stood up slowly, heart pounding in his chest. Without a word, he reached out and gently grabbed Taehyung’s wrist, pulling him closer toward the bed.

“Just… stay,” He said softly, his eyes searching Taehyung’s face, full of quiet hope.

Taehyung’s lips pressed into a thin line. He looked away again, but there was no real resistance in his body now, only a tense stiffness. Reluctantly, he let himself be led down onto the bed beside Jungkook. For a long moment, they lay there in silence.

Then, slowly, Taehyung shifted, wrapping his arms around Jungkook in a careful, almost tentative hug. His voice was low and rough, barely audible as he muttered against Jungkook’s hair, “You’re mine now.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched, cheeks burning bright red. His fingers twined nervously in Taehyung’s shirt, the weight of those words sinking deep inside him. Shy and overwhelmed, he whispered back, “I’ve been yours for a while now…”

In the morning.

He was still wrapped in the gentle embrace of sleep, the steady rhythm of Taehyung’s heartbeat pressed against his back, the only sound in the otherwise still space. His cheek rested against Taehyung’s chest, feeling the faint rise and fall with each breath. The warmth between them was comforting, safe, something he never wanted to let go of.

But the peaceful silence was suddenly broken by faint knocking and muffled voices from outside the door.

“Has anyone seen Tae?” Jin’s voice called softly, tinged with concern but quiet enough not to wake the others.

“No, I checked his room, he’s not there,” Hoseok added, sounding puzzled.

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered open, a flicker of worry washing over him. The door creaked open slowly, and Jin peeked inside first, followed by Hoseok, Yoongi, and Jimin. Their faces immediately softened when they spotted Jungkook curled up on the bed, Taehyung wrapped around him like a protective shield.

Jimin’s breath caught, and he whispered with a soft grin, “Oh, wow… Look at you two.”

Yoongi’s usual stoic expression melted just a little, and even Jin couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. Hoseok, ever the cheerful one, reached for his phone, aiming it discreetly at the pair.

“Guys, look at this,” Jimin whispered, a teasing lilt in his voice. “This is way too cute.”

He felt his cheeks burn bright red, heart thudding wildly in his chest. He instinctively curled tighter against Taehyung, who was still asleep, his face relaxed and peaceful in the morning light.

Hoseok chuckled quietly as he snapped the picture. “We’re gonna treasure this one for a while.”

Jin crouched down, voice gentle but amused, “You two look really happy. Tae’s been hiding in here all night?”

He nodded shyly, barely able to meet their eyes. “Yeah... he was… really tipsy last night. I told him he could stay.”

Jimin leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, “Well, this is the kind of secret I’m glad I found out.”

Yoongi smirked, crossing his arms but with a softness in his eyes. “Tae’s not as cold as he acts, huh?”

Taehyung stirred slightly, mumbling something inaudible, but stayed pressed against Jungkook like he never wanted to let go.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Chapter Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The sky was brushed in soft morning hues, the world hushed around Jin’s front porch. Most of the others are quietly moving about the house. Out here, it was just Jungkook and Taehyung, standing a few feet apart in the early light.

Jungkook fiddled with his sleeves, hoodie pulled halfway over his hands. His eyes were on Taehyung, who was clearly nervous, rocking slightly on his heels, hands stuffed deep in his pockets like they were the only things holding him together.

Taehyung cleared his throat once. Then again. Then muttered, “So.”

Jungkook blinked, tilting his head. “So?”

A pause. Taehyung glanced up, then immediately looked away. “I, uh…” he scratched the back of his neck. “I was thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” Jungkook whispered with a tiny smile, then immediately regretted it when Taehyung’s face stiffened.

Taehyung shot him a look, but it was less annoyed, more painfully awkward. He exhaled. “You. Me. We’ve been kinda…”

“Kinda?” He echoed, voice softer now. He could feel his cheeks heating up, his heart fluttering hard.

Taehyung’s mouth opened, then closed. He muttered something like, “You know.”

Jungkook did know. He just didn’t expect the next part.

Taehyung shifted his weight again. “I mean… I wanna–” His hand waved vaguely between them. “Be yours.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched. His whole face went red. “W-What?”

Taehyung’s ears were already pink. He didn’t meet Jungkook’s eyes.

“I mean. If that’s… okay.” He scratched his brow, looking like he’d rather disappear into the floor. “I’ve never said that. To anyone.”

Jungkook’s hands clutched at the edge of his sleeves, pulling them tighter. “Like… boyfriend?”

Taehyung nodded once, quickly, as if the word was too embarrassing to say out loud. Silence settled around them for a second.

Then Jungkook let out a tiny, breathy laugh. “You’re so bad at this.”

“Shut up,” Taehyung muttered, clearly mortified.

Jungkook’s smile trembled. His heart was pounding in his ears.

“I… want to,” he whispered. “I want you to be mine.”

Taehyung finally met his eyes, really met them, and something soft and slow passed between them. Like relief. Like warmth.

“Oh,” Taehyung said.

He nodded shyly. “Yeah.”

Taehyung stepped forward just slightly, hands still stuffed in his pockets. “Cool.”

Jungkook gave him a bashful smile, then looked down. “You’re my first, too.”

Taehyung blinked. “Really?”

Jungkook nodded again, then glanced up shyly. “You don’t have to say anything cheesy.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

They both stood there, blushing and awkward, but smiling. Taehyung hesitated before nudging Jungkook’s foot with his own.
“Can I... hold your hand now?” he mumbled.

Jungkook’s face burned red, but he held out his hand anyway, small and nervous, trembling just a little.

Taehyung took it gently. Their fingers fit together like they’d been waiting for this.

And for a long, quiet moment, they didn’t say anything at all.

They didn’t need to.

They were each other’s now. Officially.

Finally.

As Taehyung waited calmly, leaning against the familiar pillar near the main entrance. His posture was casual, arms crossed loosely, but his eyes were sharp and watchful, scanning every face.

Jungkook appeared just then, weaving through the crowd with his usual hesitant steps, his cheeks tinged with a soft pink, partly from the cool morning air and partly from the slight flutter in his chest as he spotted Taehyung waiting.

Taehyung’s lips twitched upwards in a faint smirk, but he quickly dropped the expression and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets as if he weren’t expecting Jungkook at all.

“About time,” he muttered, voice low but carrying that familiar teasing edge that never failed to make Jungkook’s heart skip.

Jungkook blinked, slightly startled by the casual affection masked behind the gruff words. “I’m not late,” he replied softly, voice barely above a whisper, eyes flicking down to the ground in bashful protest. “I was just… taking my time.”

“Yeah, sure.” Taehyung’s smirk threatened to return but he fought it, looking away. Then, without much warning, he held out his hand. Jungkook’s breath caught, and before he could shy away, their fingers intertwined.

The touch was simple but grounding, warm and steady, like a quiet promise. Neither said anything as they started walking side by side toward their building, their steps unhurried, falling into an easy rhythm. The world around them faded just enough that he could focus on the subtle brush of Taehyung’s hand, the occasional glance Taehyung stole toward him when he thought Jungkook wasn’t looking.

Hand in hand, they walked through the familiar paths of campus, their fingers intertwined like a quiet promise neither needed to voice aloud. Taehyung’s grip was steady, confident, but there was an unspoken tenderness behind that cool, composed mask.
His expression was calm, almost detached, but every so often, when he glanced sideways at Jungkook, his eyes softened.
It was a rare, quiet warmth that made Jungkook’s heart skip like a broken record.

His cheeks bloomed with a delicate flush, warmth rising from the tips of his ears to the gentle curve of his neck. His fingers twitched where they met Taehyung’s, a shy smile trembling on his lips.

He kept his gaze lowered, half-afraid that if he looked directly at Taehyung, he’d be swept away by the surge of feelings pooling in his chest. The simple act of holding hands, so ordinary, yet so extraordinary, made him feel like he was walking on clouds.

They reached the entrance to their building, the familiar hum of students chatting and rushing to class growing louder. Their presence didn’t go unnoticed. Heads turned, whispers rippled through the crowd like a breeze rustling autumn leaves. The secret of their closeness was now out in the open.

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat. The pressure of dozens of eyes suddenly felt suffocating, but the older’s hand tightened around his, grounding him like an anchor. He dared a quick glance at Taehyung’s profile, and in that quiet look, he found reassurance, silent and sure.

Stepping into the classroom, a hush fell. Conversations paused, and all eyes fixed on them. his heart hammered painfully against his ribs, his pulse a frantic drum in his ears. The warmth of Taehyung’s hand against his palm was the only thing keeping him from melting into a puddle of nerves and fluttering butterflies.

Then came the teasing, light and playful but sharp enough to make Jungkook’s blush deepen.

“Wow, finally, huh? Took you guys long enough.”

“Look at them… all couple-y now.”

“Jungkook, you’re so pretty. Tae’s lucky!”

His cheeks flared hotter, and he squeezed Taehyung’s hand, as if to hold onto his courage. He glanced sideways, catching sight of Jimin and Hoseok’s shocked faces a few rows away.

Jimin’s voice was quiet, almost breathless, laced with disbelief and excitement all at once. “Wait, what? How did this happen? When? I need details.”

Hoseok’s usual grin was replaced by wide-eyed surprise, ”I mean I thought you guys were just friends that cuddled, but–” his eyebrows lifting so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. “Seriously, man, I’m shook. This is… new.”

Taehyung, ever the cool and unflappable one, shifted his weight and let out a low, amused sigh. His voice was calm, teasing, but with a sharp edge that suggested he wanted to brush off the fuss, though his faint blush betrayed him.

“Nothing special. We just… decided. So yeah, that’s it. You happy now?”

His gaze flickered to the younger briefly, and there was something almost shy in that glance, a soft vulnerability carefully tucked beneath his usual nonchalance.

Jungkook felt a surge of heat rush through him. His voice caught when he tried to speak, so instead, he bit his lip, fingers trembling slightly within Taehyung’s hold. The moment was too big, too beautiful, and he wasn’t sure he could find words that did it justice.

Jimin leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, “You’re about to explode, aren’t you? You can’t hide it.”

Jungkook’s shy smile was all the answer anyone needed.

The first few hours of the day had been a blur of notes, quiet questions, and the usual nervous excitement of classes. Now, as they headed to the cafeteria, the familiar buzz of chatter and the scent of food felt oddly comforting, grounding.

Taehyung walked beside him, the weight of his backpack resting casually on the other’s shoulder. It was such a small thing, nothing grand or overly sweet, but his heart hammered at the gesture. Taehyung’s fingers brushed lightly over the strap as if it were the most natural thing in the world to carry his things, yet to him, it felt like a silent promise. A quiet “I’ve got you.”

He glanced up and caught Taehyung’s eyes for a fraction of a second, just enough to see that flicker of something soft behind the usual cool mask. Taehyung looked away quickly, eyes scanning the crowd like he was guarding a secret. Jungkook’s cheeks warmed, and he ducked his head, fiddling nervously with the strap of his own bag.

As they entered the cafeteria, the noise washed over them, the clatter of trays, laughter bouncing off the walls, and the rich aroma of frying garlic and fresh rice. The others were already gathered near their usual table, waiting.

Jin noticed them first. His gaze sharpened with the practiced eye of someone who had seen many things before, and a slow, knowing smile curved his lips.

“Well, would you look at that,” he murmured to Yoongi, who lounged with his signature disinterest but couldn’t fully hide the faintest spark of curiosity in his eyes.

Jin’s voice lowered conspiratorially. “You see the way Tae’s carrying Koo’s things? Since when does he do that?”

Yoongi snorted softly, pulling his headphones down just enough to respond without looking directly. “Does it matter? They’re probably together now. Figure it’s just him acting like a boyfriend.”

Jin’s chuckle was low but warm. “Yeah, yeah… I’m just saying, it’s nice to see.”

Meanwhile, Hoseok was already pulling out chairs, his grin wide and excited like a kid who just uncovered a secret. “Hey, come on! Get over here before we start without you two!”

Taehyung slipped onto the bench next to Jungkook, dropping the notebooks and bag on the table with a soft thud. His fingers brushed against Taehyung’s hand as he settled down, and his breath caught. The simple nearness, the quiet, steady presence, felt like a shelter.

Hoseok’s voice broke the momentary calm, loud and cheerful, “So, Taehyung and Jungkook are finally official, huh? Took you long enough!” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

The entire table turned to look, some smiling, some trying not to stare, and he felt the familiar blush creep up his neck, spreading warmth to his ears. He looked down shyly, cheeks burning, but Taehyung’s reaction was something else entirely.

Taehyung, true to form, shot Hoseok a sharp glare, eyes narrowing with a touch of mock irritation. “Hyung, could you keep your voice down?”

Jungkook giggled softly, looking up at him with wide eyes. The way Taehyung defended him, though hiding it beneath teasing words, made his heart flutter uncontrollably.

Jin gave a fond smile, shaking his head slowly. “It’s about time, you two.”

The hum of lunch chatter slowly died down into a cozy buzz around their table, the comforting clink of utensils against trays filling the spaces between conversation. He picked at his food quietly, his shoulder brushing Taehyung’s every so often, still not quite used to the new closeness but far from wanting to move away.

He stole occasional glances, catching how Taehyung sat back with his usual casual grace, long fingers cradling his drink as if nothing in the world could rattle him. And yet, the way his knee bumped into Jungkook’s beneath the table, deliberate and lingering, told a different story.

“So,” Jimin said, dragging his voice out teasingly as he leaned over his tray with interest glinting in his eyes, “are any of you planning to join the school event later this week? The one the student council’s hyping up?”

Hoseok perked up, chewing eagerly. “Oh yeah! Isn’t that the ‘Style Me’ showcase or something? Like, a lowkey fashion runway? Students get to walk or model outfits for different categories.”

“It’s basically an excuse to dress up and be admired,” Yoongi deadpanned without looking up from his food, though the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly.

Jin turned to Jungkook, eyebrows raised. “You should join, Jungkook-ah,” he said smoothly, tilting his head. “You’re very pretty, and you know it. Might as well make everyone else suffer watching you.” Jungkook choked slightly on his rice and blinked wide-eyed, instantly flustered.

“W-What? No, I’m not–” He waved his chopsticks awkwardly in the air. “That’s not… I-I don’t think I could–”

“You totally could,” Jimin cut in brightly. “You’d look amazing. You’ve got that whole soft and glowing aesthetic. Everyone’s going to fall in love.”

His ears turned pink. “That’s the problem,” he mumbled, poking at his food like it might rescue him from the conversation. Across the table, Hoseok leaned forward, grinning.

“Come on, it’s not a serious competition. It’s just for fun. And you wouldn’t even need to try too hard. You literally walked in holding hands with Taehyung earlier and half the cafeteria stopped breathing.”

Right. Taehyung was popular, apparently.

“Exactly,” Jin said with a smirk. “We’re not asking you to strut in heels, unless you want to, in which case, I support it.”

He let out a helpless laugh, lowering his gaze to his tray. He could feel the anticipation buzzing around him, all their eyes on him, all their warmth too. A part of him, still timid, still unsure, wanted to shrink under the attention. But the other part, the part that had grown a little bolder lately, wondered what it might be like to try.

So, after a moment, he looked up, not at Jin or Jimin or Hoseok, but straight at Taehyung.

Taehyung hadn’t said a word since the topic came up. He’d just been watching, eyes dark and unreadable, lips resting in that neutral line that Jungkook couldn’t always decipher. His posture hadn’t changed, but something about the stillness felt heavier. As if he were listening too carefully.

He swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Would that… be okay?”

Taehyung blinked. Then, ever so slowly, he shrugged, lifting one shoulder in that casual way that was so him. “Do what you want,” he said simply, picking up his drink again. “If you want to join, then join.”

But when Jungkook looked closer, he saw it, the subtle press of the older’s tongue against the inside of his cheek, the way his hand curled a little tighter around the bottle. It wasn’t disapproval. It was something else. Support, maybe.

His lips curved softly as he lowered his gaze again, heart fluttering in its quiet, shy way. “Okay,” he murmured, fiddling with the edge of his tray. “I think I’ll do it.”

From beside him, he felt Taehyung shift just slightly closer. Not enough to draw attention. But enough that he noticed. Enough that he felt it in his bones.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The days that followed felt like a soft whirlwind.

Every hallway Jungkook walked down seemed to hum with anticipation. Whispers trailed behind him, some curious, some admiring, and though he ducked his head shyly each time, the warmth in his chest lingered longer than the embarrassment.
The others, of course, weren’t subtle.

Jimin practically declared himself Jungkook’s personal stylist, dragging him into empty classrooms during breaks with arms full of jackets, necklaces, and scarves. Hoseok contributed entire bags of accessories he claimed were “too edgy for daily use,” while Jin offered grooming tips like he was prepping Jungkook for a magazine shoot.

“You need to wear something that says ‘I’m delicate but will ruin your life,’” Jimin declared one afternoon, draping a mesh top over Jungkook’s shoulder and stepping back to examine him. “Gives mystery. Gives heartbreak. Gives soft boy with a secret.”
He flushed from the collar to his ears. “I… don’t think I give any of that.”

“You give more than you think,” Jin chimed in from the side, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “People look at you like you’re the protagonist of a coming-of-age film.”

Yoongi, seated lazily in the back corner of the room with earbuds half in, scoffed without opening his eyes. “You guys are doing the most.”

“We’re building confidence,” Hoseok said, rummaging through another bag of accessories. “Let the boy bloom.”
All the while, Taehyung remained… calm. Too calm.

He watched the chaos from his seat by the window, legs stretched out, cheek resting on his palm. He didn’t join in, didn’t intervene, but his gaze never strayed far from him. Sometimes, when no one was looking, his eyes softened. Like watching Jungkook glow a little more each day filled something inside him he couldn’t quite put into words.

And when he would glance at him, seeking silent approval, or just comfort, Taehyung would hold his gaze for a beat, lips twitching in the slightest of smirks.

“You’ll be fine,” he murmured once when they were alone, brushing invisible lint from Jungkook’s sleeve after the others had gone ahead. “Just don’t trip on stage or cry or… you know. Pass out.”

He laughed nervously. “Thanks. That’s… really comforting.”

Taehyung’s hand lingered longer than necessary. “You’ll be okay,” he said again, quieter this time.

And somehow, he believed it.

The day of the event came with the smell of warm lights, fabric spray, and nervous butterflies.

Backstage was a mess of bodies and last-minute changes. There were racks of clothes, folding mirrors, and people adjusting pins and makeup in frantic sweeps. Jungkook sat quietly in front of one of the mirrors, hands clasped on his lap, already dressed in a soft but striking outfit Jimin and Hoseok had helped assemble, cream wide-leg trousers, a flowy blush-pink blouse tucked at the waist, and layered gold jewelry that shimmered gently beneath the lights.

His hair had been tousled to frame his face just right. A hint of gloss made his lips look even softer. He looked like a dream. He didn’t feel like one, though, not when his hands were trembling.

“Hey.”

Taehyung’s voice came from behind, calm and low.

He turned in his seat, breath catching just slightly. Taehyung had made it.

He wasn’t dressed particularly different, still in his usual black pants and open-buttoned shirt over a plain tee, but his presence always carried a gravity Jungkook clung to.

Taehyung walked up and crouched down in front of him, eyes scanning his face. “You okay?”

He nodded, a bit too quickly. “Yeah. I think so.”

Taehyung tilted his head, gaze dropping to his clasped hands. Without saying anything, he gently reached out and pried one hand free, lacing their fingers together.

His breath hitched.

“You don’t have to look at anyone when you’re up there,” Taehyung said softly, thumb brushing against his skin. “Just walk. Breathe. And um… think about something that makes you feel good.”

“Like what?”

Taehyung paused, then offered the smallest smile. “Who else?”

He ducked his head, hiding his face behind his hair. “You’re unbelievable…”

Taehyung chuckled softly, standing again. He reached over and fixed the necklace chain that had turned on Jungkook’s collar. “You’re pretty,” he said, almost casually, but not quite. “They’re going to love you.”

Jungkook looked up through his lashes. “Will you?”

The older had only nodded at him with a smile before walking off.

The hall fell into a soft hush as Jungkook’s name was announced.

“Up next– Jeon Jungkook, first-year Literature major.”

Taehyung’s eyes flicked up immediately.

He was leaning back in his chair with one leg crossed over the other, arms folded across his chest like he couldn’t care less, but his gaze hadn’t left the stage since Jungkook disappeared behind the curtain. He was quiet, still, except for the faint twitch of his fingers against his elbow.

The lights shifted.

And there he was.

Jungkook stepped into the spotlight like a gentle breeze had carried him in. He wore soft creams and pale blues, a flowy blush-pink blouse tucked at the waist, his dark hair styled away from his face. There was a subtle shimmer on his cheeks, and when he blinked toward the audience, his lashes caught the light like tiny feathers.

The crowd exhaled as one. Whispers rolled across the rows like a tide.

Taehyung’s breath hitched.

This was something closer to awe. Because that was Jungkook. His Jungkook. The boy who stammered when he spoke too fast, who got flustered over the smallest compliments, who used to avoid cameras and clung to his sleeves when he was nervous.
Now he was walking center stage. Quiet but graceful. Timid, yes, but radiant.

The crowd didn’t hold back.

“Damn– he’s stunning!”

“Is that really a first-year?!”

He didn’t move. Not even when Hoseok let out an impressed whistle beside him. Not when Jimin clutched Jin’s arm like he was watching a drama finale. Taehyung just kept watching Jungkook, jaw tense, eyes unreadable.

Taehyung’s hand, resting on his thigh, curled into a loose fist.

Still, when Jungkook locked eyes with him, just for a second, just a fleeting glance from the stage, Taehyung’s expression softened so slightly it could’ve been imagined.

Jungkook saw it. And he smiled.

Backstage, Jungkook leaned against the cool wall, still catching his breath. His fingers trembled a little from nerves, his heart fluttering with the aftershock of adrenaline.

And then a voice, “Hey.”

He looked up.

Taehyung stood in the corridor, the crowd noise muffled behind him. He wasn’t wearing any emotion on his face, but the way he stepped inside, slow and sure, made Jungkook’s chest flutter.

“My legs feel like jelly…” He whispered.

Taehyung scoffed, approaching until they were just a step apart.

“You looked really nice up there,” he said simply. “Cool, too. I liked the shirt.”

He blinked, caught off-guard. “…You’re not just saying that?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes but smiled faintly. “If I didn’t mean it, I wouldn’t say anything at all.”

Jungkook ducked his head, cheeks burning. “Everyone kept staring... I felt like I was gonna fall over.”

“You didn’t.” Taehyung stepped beside him, leaning his shoulder gently against Jungkook’s. “You walked all the way across the stage, didn’t trip, didn’t cry. That’s impressive.”

“…You’re making fun of me.”

“No,” Taehyung said quietly. “I’m proud of you.”

Jungkook turned toward him fully, eyes wide, while Taehyung still wore his usual expression, calm, unaffected, but the slight tilt of his mouth and the warmth in his eyes betrayed him.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Taehyung continued. “But you did. And you looked amazing. You handled it better than I ever could.”

Jungkook swallowed, a lump rising in his throat. “I was nervous. But… when I saw you out there–” He stopped, embarrassed. “I don’t know… It helped.”

They stood in silence for a beat. Then Taehyung reached out without a word and brushed his fringe away from his forehead, fingers lingering just for a moment before dropping back to his side.

“Come on,” he murmured, voice low. “Let’s go change. I brought a hoodie.” He pulled it from his bag and handed it over, soft, oversized, familiar.

Jungkook changed quietly, tugging the hoodie over his head. When he turned back, Taehyung was still standing by the wall, waiting.
“Hey,” He said softly. “Thank you… for being here.”

Taehyung finally looked at him, a slight crease between his brows like he was annoyed that Jungkook even felt the need to thank him. But he nodded once, then reached out and tugged the sleeve of Jungkook’s hoodie over his hand.

“So what if people looked at you,” he muttered. “I’m the one who gets to bring you home.”

And before he could melt on the spot, Taehyung was already heading for the door, hands in his pockets like it meant nothing. But the tips of his ears were still pink. And when he caught up to him, their fingers brushed, until Taehyung, without a word, slipped his hand into Jungkook’s and held on tight.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Most of the others had already gone home. Hoseok had waved sleepily with a teasing grin. Jimin had thrown his arm around Jungkook dramatically, whispering, “You were born for the stage,” before Yoongi dragged him away. Jin had offered Taehyung a knowing wink, to which Taehyung rolled his eyes and muttered something about everyone being annoyingly loud.

And now, it was just the two of them.

Jungkook stood just outside the venue, fingers fidgeting at the hem of Taehyung’s hoodie now draped over him again, hair slightly tousled and a little damp at the nape from earlier. His cheeks were still a shade too pink, and his eyes sparkled from a mix of adrenaline and the lingering buzz of compliments he hadn’t known how to take.

“I guess… I should wait for the bus,” he murmured, mostly to himself, glancing shyly at the campus gates.

Taehyung, who had been standing next to him, arms crossed and eyes sharp beneath long lashes, turned to look at him with a raised brow. “You think I’m letting you take a bus home looking like that?”

He blinked, turning toward him. “Huh?”

“You literally just walked a runway in front of the entire college,” Taehyung muttered, tone casual, but there was something unreadable in his gaze. “You're still in makeup. Wearing my hoodie. You think I’m letting you sit on a public bus looking like that?”
Jungkook’s shoulders lifted defensively. “I-I’ll be fine! I mean it’s not that late yet and–”

“Jungkook.” Taehyung’s voice dropped into something firmer, but not unkind. “I’m driving you.”

The younger boy opened his mouth again, then promptly closed it when he met Taehyung’s eyes, cool, steady, but not cold. Just stubborn.

“…Okay,” He whispered, biting his lip.

Taehyung simply turned and began walking toward the parking lot, throwing a simple “Let’s go” over his shoulder. He didn’t wait to see if Jungkook followed, he already knew he would

The ride was quiet at first.

Taehyung’s car smelled faintly of citrus and something warm, like cologne and vanilla. The radio was playing softly, just enough to fill the silence. He sat with his hands tucked between his thighs, glancing out the window as the city lights passed in blurs.

But his heart wasn’t calm. It hadn’t been since Taehyung’s fingers brushed his wrist earlier backstage to fix a thread on his sleeve. Or when he caught him staring from the crowd with an unreadable gaze.

He peeked at Taehyung, who had one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the open window frame, face impassive, jawline catching every light they passed. His profile was so effortless, it hurt. Oh, he’s handsome alright.

“…You were staring,” Jungkook said softly, surprising even himself.

Taehyung didn’t flinch, eyes still on the road. “And?”

“I-I just…” He shrank a little in his seat, eyes darting. “I noticed.

Taehyung’s fingers flexed on the steering wheel, but his voice stayed smooth. “You looked… pretty. I’d be stupid not to stare.”

That shut him up immediately. His heart was loud in his chest again, stammering like a drumroll. “…Thank you,” he whispered.

They fell into silence again. A gentler one. The kind that warms the car interior without heat. When Taehyung pulled up in front of his house, the porch light spilled out across the walkway like a quiet welcome. The engine idled.

Neither of them moved
.
He hesitated, fingers curled around the strap of his bag. “Thanks for the ride hyung,” he murmured, barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to–”

Taehyung clicked the hazard lights off, gaze still forward, hands loose on the wheel. Then, after a beat, he finally spoke. “You did well… out there.”

The words were casual, barely nudging the quiet between them. But for Jungkook, who had been second-guessing every moment on that stage, every stare, every outfit change, it struck somewhere deep and warm.

He blinked at Taehyung. “…Really?”

Taehyung’s eyes flicked toward him, a little slower than usual, his expression unreadable but softer now in the dim light. “Yeah.” He shrugged, like it was nothing, even though his fingers were tapping lightly on the steering wheel. “Better than I thought you would.”

“Hey,” Jungkook pouted, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite the fluster.

Taehyung let out a quiet huff of laughter, his own lips twitching. “I meant that in a good way.”

He turned in his seat, angling toward him, the smile softening. “Thanks, Taehyung-hyung.”

Another pause. A breath. The night hung between them like a thread pulled taut.

“Hyung…” Jungkook started, his voice suddenly smaller. “Can I…?”

He didn’t finish the question, and he didn’t have to. Taehyung was already looking at him again, long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks, eyes steady, calm. His hand reached out first, almost unconsciously, brushing lightly against the side of Jungkook’s jaw.

No rush. No pressure.

“You sure?” he asked lowly, the corners of his voice catching with quiet restraint.

Jungkook nodded, breath hitching. “Yeah.”

So Taehyung leaned in, slow, unhurried, and kissed him.

It was soft. Careful. Like a secret. Like something he’d wanted to do but didn’t know how to ask for.

His hand clutched at the front of Taehyung’s shirt, his lips trembling slightly against the older boy’s. The kiss wasn’t perfect, just the press of mouths, tentative and unsure, but it was enough to knock the air out of him. Enough to make the inside of his chest swell and flutter like a match catching flame.

When they parted, they were both quiet.

Jungkook was sure his whole face was burning.

Taehyung, on the other hand, looked composed… but his ears had turned unmistakably red.

“Go,” Taehyung muttered, not looking directly at him, but the barest smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “Before I change my mind.”
Jungkook laughed softly, breathless, dazed. “You’re so annoying.”

Taehyung smirked. “And you’re getting red like crazy.”

With a weak huff, Jungkook opened the car door and stepped out into the cool night air, turning back one last time.

“Text me,” Taehyung called out before he could close the door. “When you get to your room.”

“I will,” Jungkook said shyly, smiling like an idiot as he stepped toward the front door.

And Taehyung waited, engine still idling, until the porch light flicked off behind him. Only then did he lean back in his seat, sigh, and finally let the ghost of that kiss settle over him in silence.

The front door clicked shut behind him with a soft thud, and for a beat, silence hung in the hallway.

Then Jungkook’s knees gave out slightly as he dropped his bag to the floor and squealed into his hands, his entire body folding into himself as he tried not to combust right there on the spot.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god,” he whispered over and over, breathless, his heart thundering against his ribs. He twisted side to side on the balls of his feet, too wired to stay still, fingers dragging through his soft hair as his face lit up in full crimson. “He kissed me,” he whispered again, grinning so hard it hurt. “He actually– kissed me...”

It wasn't even a dramatic kiss, really. It was soft. Almost hesitant. But it lingered like a spark trailing across his skin, all warm and fluttering and impossibly real. He could still feel the weight of Taehyung’s fingers against his jaw, the warmth of his breath, the calm steadiness in his voice,you did good… out there, and the way his lips had felt like a quiet promise.

His cheeks burned all over again as he spun slightly, clutching his chest.

Footsteps.

Then he froze.

He slowly peeked down the hallway, still curled up on the floor.

So, naturally, it was the worst possible time for Namjoon to appear at the end of the hallway, half-shadowed, arms crossed, and looking at him like he was trying to decipher a code.

“…You good?” Namjoon asked, voice low, brows pulled together.

Jungkook froze. He blinked at his older brother like a caught criminal. “…Hi.”

Namjoon stared, “Why are you glowing like that?” he muttered.

“I’m not glowing,” He mumbled, standing straighter with his hands quickly falling to his sides, though the dopey smile was still on his face and refused to leave. “I just got back. That’s all.”

Namjoon took a step closer, eyes narrowing. “From what?”

“…From the school event.” His voice pitched slightly. “I told you about that.”

“I remember,” Namjoon said calmly, “but you left this morning in different clothes.”

Jungkook froze again. “Oh. Um– Taehyung-hyung let me borrow his. Because it got cold.”

Namjoon hummed. “Right.”

His gaze didn’t leave Jungkook. He took in the oversized hoodie, the faint shimmer of leftover makeup around Jungkook’s eyes, a bit smudged under his lashes. His lips were tinted, soft pink, worn in. The kind of disheveled that looked suspiciously romantic.

“You’re also wearing makeup,” Namjoon noted, slowly and pointedly.

He faltered. “It was for the event,” he insisted, fidgeting with the sleeves. “It was like a fashion-slash-showcase thing. Jimin and Hoseok-hyung did most of it.”

Namjoon took a breath and exhaled. “You kissed someone.” Jungkook’s shoulders tensed like someone had just hit his pause button.

Namjoon raised a brow. “You did, didn’t you?”

For a second, Jungkook said nothing. But then he turned back, slightly pink, and nodded once. Soft. “Uh I– Maybe…?”

There was a quiet pause between them. Namjoon blinked again, his expression unreadable, somewhere between suspicion and surprise, with a cautious flicker of amusement beneath it.

“…Was it Taehyung?”

There was no teasing in his voice. Just a quiet, neutral tone that somehow made Jungkook even more nervous. He hesitated, then nodded, once, twice, small, shy nods like he was afraid to make it too real by saying it out loud.

Namjoon’s gaze softened almost imperceptibly. “So you’re… together now?”

He looked up, cheeks flushed pink, eyes still wide and a little disbelieving even now. His heart beat hard against his ribs. But he smiled, small, tender, proud.

“…Yeah,” he said softly. “I think so.”

For a beat, Namjoon said nothing. Then he sighed and walked to the kitchen counter, setting down the glass of water he had in his hand. “Okay,” he said.

Jungkook blinked. “Okay?”

“I mean,” Namjoon turned back around, arms crossing over his chest again. “I had a feeling something was going on. You’ve been daydreaming like a lovesick idiot for days.”

Jungkook made a face. “Hyung!”

Namjoon smirked faintly. “I’m just saying. I’m not surprised.”

He leaned against the counter, finally looking at him with a softened gaze. “As long as he’s good to you, then… that’s all I care about.”

His eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled, his fingers twisting in the hem of the hoodie. “He is.”

Namjoon studied him for a second more, then nodded. “Then that’s enough for me.”

His smile widened. And even though his face still burned, and his stomach was still in knots from everything that happened tonight, for the first time in a while, he felt like things were falling into place.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The walk to Taehyung’s place felt different this time, familiar, but humming with something new. He could feel it in the way his heart gently pounded against his chest, in the careful sway of his steps. Taehyung had invited him over. Crazy.

He looked down at himself, his fingers lightly brushing over the hem of the pale cream dress he wore, the soft fabric catching sunlight like it belonged there. The dress fluttered around his knees as he walked, cinched gently at the waist with a thin ribbon.

Delicate bracelets clinked softly on his wrists, Taehyung’s gift, the ones he had shyly handed to him days ago, claiming he “just found them lying around.” A tiny star charm dangled at his wrist and sparkled whenever he moved.

He stopped at Taehyung’s gate and stared at the door for a moment longer than necessary.

The last time he was here, he remembered knocking with trembling fingers, clutching textbooks and wearing his prettiest skirt, awkward and flustered, heart racing over an upcoming exam, and being alone in Taehyung’s space. They were just classmates back then. Or really close friends. Definitely not whatever this was now, something warmer, something unspoken finally spoken.

Now he was here again, but with something softer pulsing between them. Now they were… boyfriends.

The thought made Jungkook hug his arms to his chest and sway on his feet, smiling to himself. He was giddy. Nervous. But mostly just happy.

Unbeknownst to him, a pair of eyes from across the street caught sight of his little moment.

Jimin had just stepped out of his own front gate, hoodie unzipped and hair damp from a shower, ready to grab a quick snack from the nearby convenience store. But when he spotted the familiar figure standing prettily in front of Taehyung’s house, his steps froze.
He squinted, then grinned. “Oh my god,” he whispered to himself, one eyebrow shooting up. “Is that Jungkook?”

He watched for a moment, how the younger swayed side to side like he was calming himself down, how he was clearly dressed up, and how he looked like he was about to either knock or combust on the spot.

Jimin let out a small giggle and pulled out his phone, quickly opening his messages with Yoongi.

Back at the front door, Jungkook inhaled deeply, heart fluttering, and finally lifted his hand to knock, just as the door creaked open before he could even touch it.

Taehyung stood there, leaning against the doorframe, one brow arched, wearing a soft grey shirt with the sleeves rolled up, collar casually open, and a half-annoyed, half-flustered look tugging at his lips.

“…You gonna just stand out here all day?” he asked, voice dry but eyes warm.

Jungkook blinked, startled, then let out a breathy laugh, cheeks warming instantly. “I– was about to knock!”

“Mhm,” Taehyung hummed, stepping aside and gesturing lazily inside with a flick of his fingers. “Well. Get in. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

But as he passed by him, Taehyung’s hand casually brushed the small of his back, barely there, but grounding. And though his expression remained impassive, his gaze flicked down once, drinking in the full view of Jungkook’s outfit before glancing away quickly.

“…You look nice,” he mumbled under his breath, already walking ahead.

Jungkook stood at the entrance for a second, dress swaying slightly, a smile blooming on his lips.

They are boyfriends now. And he was pretty sure he was falling a little more every day.

He settled himself gently onto the familiar couch, folding his dress beneath him as he perched on the cushion. The soft hum of the house welcomed him, quiet, with only the distant tick of the clock and the muted golden light pouring in through the windows.

Taehyung’s house had always felt calm, but today it felt cozier somehow. Warmer.

Maybe it was because his heart was still beating a little too fast.

Taehyung followed him into the living room a moment later, hands tucked into his pockets, gaze flickering briefly toward Jungkook before he moved, less like someone confident, more like someone trying not to overthink every breath.

Instead of sitting at the opposite end like he expected, Taehyung dropped onto the couch beside him, closer than before. His thigh nearly brushed Jungkook’s. There was a moment of silence, hanging thick like held breath, until, slowly, his hand moved.

He felt it first as a featherlight brush against the fabric of his dress, just above his knee. Then came the full weight of it, gentle but certain, Taehyung’s hand resting carefully on his thigh. Not possessive. Just… present.

Jungkook tilted his head, eyes wide, heart fluttering in his chest like a butterfly caught in a jar. Taehyung wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were fixed on a speck on the wall like it was the most interesting thing in the room, his lips pressed into a straight line, his ears faintly pink.

His fingers tensed once on Jungkook’s leg. Then relaxed.

“…You’re being sweet today,” He said softly, voice light like a tease but warm with affection. His lashes dipped as he smiled, the smallest dimple showing.

Taehyung exhaled through his nose. “Don’t make it weird,” he mumbled.

“I’m not,” He giggled under his breath, his cheeks pink. He let himself lean a little closer, shoulder brushing against Taehyung’s. “I like it.”

That made Taehyung’s fingers curl slightly into the fabric of his dress. He didn’t reply, not verbally, but he didn’t move away either. He just let his thumb rub once, absentmindedly, as if memorizing the way Jungkook felt. For a while, the quiet surrounded them like a soft blanket. It was peaceful. Close.

But something tugged gently at his thoughts. Not out of worry, more out of simple wonder.

“…Tae,” he said after a beat, voice quiet. “Didn’t you say, back then, that you were staying at your dad’s place?”

Taehyung blinked slowly. His hand stilled. Then he shifted slightly on the couch, eyes drifting toward the window as if gathering his thoughts.

“Yeah,” he replied, voice low. “That was a while ago.”

“And now…?”

Taehyung’s jaw moved like he was chewing the inside of his cheek. “He doesn’t live here. Not anymore.”

Jungkook looked at him gently, waiting.

Taehyung leaned back into the couch, head resting on the top cushion as he stared at the ceiling. “My uh… parents split a few years ago. I live with my mom now.”

“Oh…” He murmured, the sound soft and careful. “I didn’t know.”

The older boy shrugged. “It’s not really something I bring up.” Then, after a pause, “She’s great, though. Just… busy. She travels a lot for work. I got used to being alone in the house, I guess.”

His lips parted slightly, a tiny pang tugging at his chest. He turned more toward him, watching the way the light cast long shadows across Taehyung’s face. “Do you ever feel lonely?” he asked, almost in a whisper.

Taehyung glanced at him, finally meeting his gaze.

“Not really,” he said simply, then, after a beat, added, “I used to. Not so much anymore.”

Jungkook’s heart skipped once.

He smiled. “Me neither.”

A silence bloomed again, softer this time, filled with something unspoken and golden. Taehyung’s hand on his thigh hadn’t moved. Then, after a second of courage, he shifted his hand over and gently placed it on top of Taehyung’s. No words. Just warmth.
Taehyung didn’t say anything. But he curled their fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The hush of their earlier conversation lingered in the air like a shared secret, comfortable and warm. Taehyung’s hand was still entwined with Jungkook’s on his lap when he shifted a little on the couch, his voice low and casual.

“Wanna watch something?” he murmured, eyes still fixed on their joined hands before flicking up to Jungkook’s face.

He blinked, then smiled, soft and a little sheepish. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice lighter now. “Can we… Can we watch Tangled?”

There was a pause.

Taehyung tilted his head, brows quirking. “Tangled?”

“Mhm,” He nodded, fingers fidgeting gently in Taehyung’s. “It’s my favorite. I know it’s cheesy…”

“You? Cheesy?” Taehyung muttered under his breath, trying to sound teasing, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. Jungkook gave him a playful little pout, nudging his arm.

“You don’t have to watch it if you’re gonna judge me.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes in that familiar, annoyed way, but the fondness in them was unmistakable. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t. I’m just… surprised.” He reached for the remote, pulling up the movie.

“Fine,” he muttered, feigning reluctance as the Disney intro started playing. “You owe me for this.”

Jungkook’s giggle was almost musical. “I’ll give you a kiss later.”

Taehyung almost choked on air.

He turned his head slowly, wide eyes locking on Jungkook like he wasn’t sure he heard that right. Jungkook, pink-faced but smiling sweetly, blinked innocently up at him from under his lashes.

“…What?” Taehyung asked, a little too breathlessly.

“I said I’ll give you a kiss…” he repeated, quieter now, fiddling with the edge of his dress. “If you want.”

For a split second, Taehyung looked frozen. Then, abruptly, he cleared his throat and turned back to the screen, ears reddening. “Tch. Don’t go making promises.”

But he didn’t let go of Jungkook’s hand.

The opening chords of Tangled filled the living room, the whimsical score wrapping around them. He tucked his legs up and leaned into Taehyung’s side, content and cozy, as the film began.

Halfway through, during Rapunzel and Flynn’s lantern scene, he sighed softly beside him. “I love this part,” he murmured. “It always makes me wanna cry.”

Taehyung glanced down at him, his expression gentler now, his posture more relaxed. “You’re crying over floating lights?”

“No,” he pouted faintly, leaning into him. “It’s the feeling. Being seen for the first time.”

Taehyung’s throat bobbed. “…You’ve always been seen,” he said quietly.

He looked up at him, eyes wide and warm. And without much thought, heart full of soft courage, he leaned forward and pressed a shy kiss to the corner of Taehyung’s mouth. It was brief, delicate, and a little shaky.

Taehyung’s breath hitched audibly. “You–” he started, blinking at Jungkook, caught entirely off-guard.

Jungkook’s lips curled upward, bashful but pleased. “You said I owed you,” he whispered, voice featherlight. Taehyung stared at him for a long second. Then, very slowly, his lips parted in a small, crooked smile.

“…You’re ridiculous,” he muttered.

But he didn’t move away. And when Jungkook leaned in again, just a little closer, lips brushing against his cheek this time, Taehyung let out the softest laugh, one that melted his usually cool exterior.

“You’re brave today, huh?” he murmured.

“I’m just happy,” Jungkook whispered.

They sat like that for the rest of the film, tangled up in each other more than the movie itself. His head resting on Taehyung’s shoulder, their fingers intertwined, and Taehyung pressing the occasional, quiet kiss to his temple when he thought he wouldn’t notice.

He always noticed.

But he never said a word. Just blushed a little deeper each time and held Taehyung’s hand a little tighter.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

By the time the end credits of Tangled rolled across the screen, he was practically draped across Taehyung’s side, eyes fluttering sleepily, fingers lazily tracing little circles against his arm.

The older didn’t seem to mind. He hadn’t said much since the movie’s halfway point, only occasionally shifting to rest his cheek against the crown of Jungkook’s head, pretending not to enjoy how the younger boy melted into him with each small gesture.

“Wanna stay up here?” Taehyung asked, his voice a murmur as he tilted his head toward the staircase. “It’s late.”

Jungkook nodded with a hum, slow and soft. “Yeah… if that’s okay.”

Taehyung didn’t respond right away. He just gently nudged him up with a hand at the small of his back, and the two of them padded up the stairs in comfortable silence. When they reached the bedroom, the soft scent of cedar and clean linen greeted them. He stood near the bed, looking around shyly.

It wasn’t his first time in this room, he had been here before, the time they “studied” and ended up talking about everything but lectures, but something felt different now. More open. Charged, maybe. He sat at the edge of the bed, brushing his palms against the smooth blanket as Taehyung flicked on a warm amber lamp and tossed his phone on the nightstand.

Taehyung joined him slowly, sitting beside him, close enough that their thighs touched.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything.

“…You’re quiet,” he whispered, glancing sideways.

“I’m always quiet,” Taehyung murmured in reply, but there was something new in the way his eyes lingered on him, like he was watching him with more than just curiosity now. “You’re the one who’s acting… different.”

Jungkook swallowed, his cheeks glowing faintly. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I do.” Taehyung’s voice was soft, teasing, but not harsh. “You keep… kissing me.”

“You like it,” he shot back before he could stop himself, and then immediately panicked at his own boldness, blinking wide-eyed.
Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “I mean…You’re not wrong.”

Jungkook exhaled shakily, looking down at his lap. “I just… I want to. Um– I’ve wanted to for a while.”

The room grew quieter. He could feel the weight of Taehyung’s gaze on him, heavy but not oppressive, like he was being seen all over again.

Slowly, deliberately, Taehyung reached out and placed a hand on Jungkook’s thigh, like he had earlier in the living room, but this time he didn’t stop there. His fingers curled gently, thumb grazing circles into the fabric of Jungkook’s dress.
He felt it like a spark.

He looked up, breath hitching just slightly as their eyes met. Taehyung was closer now, close enough to smell his cologne, to see the slight tension in his jaw, the guarded calm in his expression barely concealing the flicker of something warmer beneath.

Taehyung leaned forward just a bit, his forehead brushing against Jungkook’s. “…You keep looking at me like that,” he said quietly. “It’s gonna get harder to behave.”

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat.

“I don’t… I don’t want you to behave,” he whispered, cheeks burning even as he said it.

Taehyung froze. He pulled back just enough to look at the younger’s face.

“Jungkook…” he murmured, voice low. “Are you sure?”

He nodded slowly. “I’m not trying to rush anything, I just…” He smiled, nervous but genuine. “I like being close to you.”
Taehyung closed his eyes briefly, like he was trying to ground himself. Then, gently, he cupped Jungkook’s cheek and leaned in, pressing their lips together.

This kiss was deeper.

Unhurried, warm, but filled with quiet hunger, like both of them had waited long enough. He sighed softly against his mouth, his hand coming up to rest on Taehyung’s chest, fingers clutching lightly at the fabric of his shirt. When they broke apart, breath mingling in the small space between them, his lashes fluttered as he leaned their foreheads together again.

“I like kissing you,” he whispered.

Taehyung gave a breath of a laugh, low and fond. “Yeah. I can tell.”

His hand moved, slow and careful, from Jungkook’s thigh to his waist, pulling him gently closer. Jungkook ended up half in his lap, warm and pliant, and the feeling of his fingers curling in Taehyung’s shirt made the older boy hold him tighter.

“I’ve never had this before,” Taehyung said, his voice softer than ever. “Never wanted this. Not– like this.”

Jungkook leaned in and kissed him again, this time at the corner of his mouth, then his jaw, then under his ear, featherlight and careful. “You have it now,” he whispered.

And Taehyung pulled him into his arms like he was afraid to let go.

As the sunlight crept in through the curtains, casting lines across Taehyung’s bedroom walls. The air was quiet except for the hum of the ceiling fan and the distant sound of birds outside. A lazy kind of warmth hung in the room, sleep-soft and almost sacred, until Jungkook’s eyes suddenly flew open.

He bolted upright with a gasp, tousled hair a halo of chaos, sheets tangled around his waist.

“Shit,” he muttered, voice rough with sleep. “Oh my god– shit.”

A low groan came from the bed beside him. “What now?” Taehyung mumbled, eyes still closed, voice low and unbothered.

“I didn’t tell Namjoon-hyung I was staying here last night.”

That made Taehyung crack one eye open, but just barely. “Mm.”

He stared at him. “That’s it? Just ‘mm’?”

“You’re twenty,” Taehyung replied casually, folding an arm behind his head. “Not twelve. It’s not illegal to crash here,” that made Jungkook grab his phone from the nightstand with trembling hands, and winced.

Ten missed calls.

Fourteen unread messages.

One text read: “Jungkook. If you’re not dead, reply now.”

He choked. “He thinks I died, hyung.”

Taehyung only yawned. “You didn’t.” he mumbled.

“Hyung!”

“What?” Taehyung blinked at him, completely unfazed. “You’re literally right here. Breathing. In one piece. Overreacting.”

“I’m panicking! He’s going to– ugh– I don’t even know. Make me write a full moral reflection paper or something.” Taehyung reached over to pluck his phone from his shaking hands. He glanced at the screen, then handed it back with a half-lidded look.

“Just tell him you’re with me. He’ll live.”

He groaned into the blanket. “You don’t get it. When I don’t answer my phone, he thinks I’ve been kidnapped. And now he’s going to think we were–” He flushed. “...doing things.”

Taehyung snorted, amused but still calm. “We were.”

Jungkook turned red. “We didn’t even– like– we only made out for a while!” he stuttered.

“A while?” Taehyung arched a brow. “Pretty sure I had to stop you from crawling into my lap.”

“You didn’t stop me,” he mumbled, cheeks bright pink.

“That’s true,” Taehyung said easily, giving him a lazy smile. “Guess I liked it.”

Jungkook made a strangled sound and hid under the sheets. Just then, his phone buzzed again. This time, a voice memo from Namjoon. He hesitated. Then tapped play.

“Jungkook. It’s 8:07 in the morning. You didn’t come home. You didn’t answer your phone. I swear if you don’t reply in the next five minutes–”

He slapped his palm over the screen and whimpered. “I have to call him.”

“Mm.” Taehyung propped himself up on one elbow. “Tell him I kidnapped you. Tell him I fed you grapes and carried you to bed.”
“I’m not doing that...”

“Suit yourself.”

Jungkook hit the call button. It rang once. Twice. Click.

“Jungkook,” came Namjoon’s voice, low and even, that terrifying calm he used when he was past the point of irritation.

“H-hi, hyung,” Jungkook said, shrinking into the blankets.

There was a long silence.

“I assume you have a very good reason for ignoring ten calls and not coming home?”

“I–I was at Taehyung’s,” he stammered. “We were watching Tangled and I–I kind of fell asleep and… forgot to text you.”

“Tangled,” Namjoon repeated slowly.

He winced. “Yes.”

“Did you fall asleep before or after the Ten calls?”

“…After.”

“I see.”

Another pause.

“Are you safe?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m okay.”

Namjoon exhaled audibly. “You’re not in trouble. I just need to know where you are. Next time, just text me, Jungkook. It’s not hard.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he mumbles, feeling a little bad.

“And please remove the smudged eyeliner before you come home.”

Click.

Jungkook dropped his phone with a dramatic groan and flopped back into the pillows.

“I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

Taehyung turned his face toward him, lazy, his eyes barely open. “You survived.”
“Barely,” he muttered.

“I’ll reward you,” Taehyung said, already tugging him closer by the arm. “Come here, baby.”

He blinked at the nickname, cheeks flushing in that soft, shy way Taehyung secretly adored. “You’re being sweet this morning.”

“Mm,” Taehyung murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Don’t get used to it.”

Jungkook smiled. He already was.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Chapter Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

A gentle breeze fluttered the hem of Jungkook’s pleated lavender skirt, paired with a soft white blouse tucked neatly into the waistband. His hair curled just slightly around his face, kissed by warmth, silver hoops glinting beneath his bangs, the ones Taehyung had casually handed him weeks ago with a shrug and muttered, "Here. These would probably look good on you, I guess."

He walked with quiet steps, humming under his breath, the scent of vanilla and fresh powder trailing behind him. A few students turned as he passed. Some smiled politely, others stared. He barely noticed. He was already thinking about meeting Jimin and maybe getting banana milk on the way.

But then–

“Hey! Wait up, um– excuse me!”

He slowed, puzzled, and turned around. A tall boy he didn’t recognize jogged toward him, cheeks pink with effort, smiling nervously.

“I– I saw you at the fashion event a few weeks ago,” the guy said, pushing a hand through his hair. “You were… honestly the prettiest person there. And now you’re here and I– um, I just thought I’d regret it if I didn’t say something.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly, already starting to panic.

“I, uh– th-thank you…?”

The guy chuckled, stepping a bit closer. “Do you maybe wanna give me your number?”

His eyes grew wide. He stepped back. “M-my number…?”

The words didn’t even have time to sink in fully when a familiar presence suddenly stepped into view, tall, lean, and sharp-eyed.

Taehyung.

He appeared seemingly out of nowhere, hands casually tucked into his pockets, his black oversized button-up half unbuttoned like always, collarbones just barely peeking out. His hair was tousled, lips unsmiling but mouth slightly parted like he’d just been chewing on the inside of his cheek.

He didn’t even glance at Jungkook, his eyes went straight to the stranger. And when he reached Jungkook’s side, he slid a hand lazily around his waist. The touch was light, deceptively casual, but his grip was firm. Possessive.

Jungkook let out a tiny, startled breath.

Taehyung finally spoke, voice quiet and cool like steel dipped in snow. “He’s taken.”

The guy blinked. “Oh uh, I didn’t know…”

“Obviously,” Taehyung muttered, tone dry. “Now you do.”

The stranger glanced awkwardly between them, then nodded. “Right. Sorry.”

He turned and hurried off, not daring to look back. Taehyung stood still, eyes following the guy until he was out of sight. Only then did he glance at Jungkook, eyes heavy-lidded, voice lower, softer now, but still flat.

“You gonna give your number to anyone who says you’re pretty, or…?”

Jungkook’s mouth fell open. “W-What? No! I didn’t even say anything– he just– he came up to me and I panicked–!”

Taehyung sighed through his nose and looked away. “Yeah, I saw.”

“I was gonna say no,” he said quickly, cheeks red. “I-I mean, obviously…”

Taehyung didn’t say anything at first. He just stared at a spot on the pavement, thumb now moving slowly against Jungkook’s side in that same casual, unconscious rhythm. Then, finally, barely above a murmur, “…You looked good today.”

Jungkook stared up at him, stunned. “Huh…?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” Taehyung mumbled, averting his eyes, ears faintly pink. “It’s annoying.”

He flushed from head to toe. He bit his lip, smile threatening to bloom. “You’re being kinda soft…”

“Shut up,” Taehyung muttered. “You’re the soft one. Walking around like that. What were you thinking?”

Jungkook blinked, startled. “What do you mean?”

Taehyung’s gaze lingered on him, slow and deliberate. “You know you’re pretty, right? You wear stuff like that, smile at people like that... and then look shocked when someone wants your number.”

He covered his face with both hands, whining. The older only rolled his eyes, but his smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

But his hand never left his waist. And as they walked off together toward their class, Taehyung leaned in, voice barely a whisper near Jungkook’s ear.

“…Next time someone asks for your number, tell them your boyfriend’s already annoying enough.”

He squealed into his palms again.

Taehyung chuckled, smug and subtle.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The midday sun cast a gentle warmth across the grassy field behind the main university building, where the group had claimed their usual spot, half in the shade of a tall tree, half sprawled across a worn-out picnic blanket Hoseok had kept folded in his backpack like magic.

Jimin lay flat on his stomach, chin on his arms, scrolling through his phone. Hoseok sat beside him, sunglasses on, holding a half-eaten sandwich. Jin was fanning himself with his notebook, while Yoongi leaned back against the tree trunk, eyes half-lidded but sharp beneath his lashes.

Taehyung sat beside him.

Their thighs touched, barely, but it was enough to make Jungkook’s heart flutter each time he shifted.
The silence was broken by Jimin, of course.

“So, Koo,” he began with a knowing grin. “You gonna tell us about your fanclub or do I have to read the rest of the locker notes myself?”

He blinked, startled. “W-What?”

Jimin rolled over dramatically. “Don’t play dumb. You mentioned it this morning, remember? All those letters?”

“Oh,” he muttered, blushing as he picked at the threads on his sleeve. “Right. Um…”

“They found your locker?” Hoseok grinned, nudging him. “Didn’t you decorate it with little bunny stickers?”

“I didn’t think anyone would notice those,” Jungkook whispered, shrinking in on himself.

Jimin laughed. “Oh, they noticed. Koo, be honest, how many letters did you get?”

“I–” He cleared his throat, “I think maybe like… seven? Or eight? But one had glitter in it and exploded all over my books, so I stopped opening them.”

Jin let out a long wheeze of laughter. “Glitter bombs,” he said, impressed. “That’s a love declaration right there.”

“I don’t even know who most of them are,” he said in a tiny voice, eyes wide. “One called me ‘sunlight personified’. I didn’t even reply!”

Hoseok cackled. “You’re doomed.”

Jimin practically collapsed onto Yoongi’s lap. “Campus princess era is real!”

Yoongi, who hadn’t said much, hummed lowly, but his eyes weren’t on Jungkook. They were on Taehyung.

And Taehyung hadn’t laughed once.

He hadn’t even looked at Jungkook. Instead, he leaned back on one arm, expression carefully neutral, eyes trained lazily on the sky above them. But his fingers, Yoongi noticed, tapped against his thigh. Once. Twice. Tight. Sharp.

Yoongi raised a brow. “You just now hearing about the locker letters, Tae?” he asked casually, voice low enough that only Taehyung could really hear.

Taehyung’s jaw flexed. Barely. “Didn’t seem important,” he muttered. “It’s not like he asked for them.”

Yoongi smirked a little, amused. “No. But doesn’t mean it didn’t bother you.”

Taehyung didn’t answer. His eyes were still skyward, but a muscle twitched near his temple.

Jungkook was still panicking softly to the others, cheeks tomato-red.

Later that day, the sun was beginning to dip below the skyline, as Jungkook walked beside Taehyung toward the parking lot. The chatter of the others still echoed faintly behind them, Hoseok and Jimin arguing about bubble tea flavors, Jin loudly reminding them to hydrate, and Yoongi humming some old indie tune as they scattered toward their own rides.

But here, between the rows of parked cars and long afternoon shadows, it felt like a different world. Just the two of them.

He held onto his bag tighter, biting the inside of his cheek. Taehyung’s strides were slow, hands stuffed into his pockets, his jaw locked the way it always was when he was trying not to explode.

He hadn’t said a word since they left the others at the field.

Jungkook knew what this was about.

The letters.

“Hyung,” He said gently, glancing at him. “Are you okay?”

Taehyung didn’t answer right away. His hands were buried deep in the pockets of his trousers, and his eyes were fixed on the horizon. When he did speak, his voice was quiet. Measured.

“I didn’t know you’d been getting letters.”

His heart dropped. “I…” he blinked. “I didn’t mean to hide it. I was going to tell you, I just–”

“You told Jimin and the others first,” Taehyung said simply, almost like it was a fact. “They all knew. Even Jin-hyung was teasing you.” There was no anger in his tone, but there was something else. Something harder to name. Something that sat in the space between hesitation and hurt.

Jungkook bit his lip. “I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. I just– I didn’t think it was a big deal. I wasn’t going to reply to any of them.”

Taehyung nodded slowly. “I know. I’m not accusing you.”

His voice was so calm it made Jungkook ache. Because beneath that calm was restraint, and beneath that, something fragile.

“I just…” Taehyung paused, shifting his weight. His eyes flicked to him, then back ahead. “I guess it made me wonder how many people are noticing you now. And how easy it might be for someone else to try.”

Jungkook stopped walking. “Hyung,” he said softly. “You really think I’d look at anyone else?”

Taehyung hesitated. Then gave the smallest shrug. “I think I’d understand if you did.”

The words were quiet. Too quiet.

Jungkook’s eyes widened, his heart squeezing. “Don’t say that. I don’t want anyone else.”

Taehyung didn’t answer.

Jungkook stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop. “You think just because people wrote me stupid notes that I’d suddenly forget about you?”

“No, I don’t think that,” Taehyung said, still careful, still nonchalant on the surface. But he couldn’t look at Jungkook fully. “I just don’t know what I am to you sometimes. I don’t exactly make it easy to love me.” There it was. The quiet truth.

“Tae,” Jungkook breathed. “You're everything to me. Even when you’re cold. Even when you’re difficult. You think I’d wear the hoodie you gave me or hold your hand like I do if I didn’t love you like crazy?”

Taehyung’s eyes flickered up to his, and the hurt in them made Jungkook feel like crying.

“I know I’m new to this,” Taehyung said, voice low. “But sometimes… I just wish you’d tell me things first. So I wouldn’t feel like… I’m already a step behind everyone else.”

His chest tightened. “I’m sorry. I really am.” For a moment, neither of them spoke.

But then the other broke it with a soft exhale and reached up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit. “I’ll still take you home,” he said quietly. “If you want.”

Jungkook looked down at his shoes, swallowing hard. His voice came out small. “Maybe… I’ll take the bus today.”

Taehyung paused for a bit and then nodded slowly, lips pressing into a line. “Alright.” There was no malice in his tone. Just quiet understanding.

“I’ll text you when I’m home,” Jungkook mumbled, eyes still lowered.

Taehyung gave a soft hum, almost like a sigh. “Okay. Take care…” he paused for a bit before whispering, “Please.’

Jungkook turned away and began walking, the wind picking up around him. The air was heavy. His chest even more so. Taehyung stayed there long after Jungkook rounded the corner, his hands still in his pockets, the ache in his chest blooming like a bruise he didn’t quite know how to hold.

The bus ride home was quiet.

He sat by the window with his chin resting against his palm, the city blurring past in hues of orange and gray. The seat beside him was empty, but it felt like Taehyung should’ve been there, arms crossed, eyes on the street, thigh warm against his.

Instead, there was nothing.

And it hurt more than he wanted to admit.

When he got off at his stop, the air was cool and still, and the soft clack of his shoes on the pavement echoed too loudly. The minute he stepped through the front door, the ache he had been holding in his chest finally expanded, filling the quiet space around him. He dropped his bag by the shoe rack, toed off his sneakers, and padded inside without turning on the lights.

He didn’t cry. Not really. But there was a sharp pressure behind his eyes as he went up the stairs to his room and he curled into his bed.
He unlocked his phone and his fingers hovered over Taehyung’s name for a moment, then pulled away. He couldn’t. Not yet. Instead, he scrolled until he found Jimin.

Jungkook: Hyung are you free? [7:42 PM]

A minute passed. Then two.

Jiminie: Hey baby bun what’s wrong? :( i’m here [7:44 PM]

His eyes stung, but he blinked quickly and typed.

Jungkook: I had a fight with Tae
I mean… not a big fight
He was just kind of upset
I didn’t tell him about the letters I was getting
And he thought I didn’t care how he felt [7:45 PM]

There was a pause before Jimin started typing again.

Jiminie: Oh baby he said that to you? [7:45 PM]

Jungkook: Not exactly, he was careful about it, but I could feel it.
He said he doesn’t make it easy to love him :( [7:46 PM]

Jiminie :((( Jungkook, he adores you, you know that, right? [7:47 PM]

Jungkook: I know, I know he does.
It just… hurt
That he thought I’d look at someone else
and that he couldn’t say it out loud
He just bottled it up until it made him pull away [7:47 PM]

He sniffled quietly, his sleeve brushing over his damp lashes.

Jiminie: He’s scared
this is his first real relationship, remember?
and with someone like you??
pretty and sweet, and everyone wants you? [7:48 PM]

Jungkook: :(( I didn’t mean to hurt him, I hate that he felt like that, and I didn’t notice [7:49 PM]

Jiminie: You’re not a mind reader, bun but you’re doing your best and so is he [7:49 PM]

Jungkook: I left without letting him take me home. I think I just needed time, but now I feel even worse [7:50 PM]

Jiminie: I know that feeling, but maybe tomorrow just… show him you’re still here, you don’t have to say everything yet, just be there [7:50 PM

Jungkook: Okay, thank you, hyung
really :( [7:50 PM

Jiminie: always, baby bun, we’re not letting this love story go down that easily
Okay? [7:51 PM]

He gave the tiniest laugh under his breath. It cracked a little, but it was there.

He curled further into his blanket and stared at the soft glow of his phone screen for a long moment. Then, finally, with hesitant fingers, he opened Taehyung’s name. No message. Not yet.

Sighing as he turned off his phone to look at the ceiling, thinking to himself, “I don’t have the energy to go to university tomorrow…”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The sun was too bright for how shitty Taehyung felt.

He blinked up at the sky, a hand shoved deep in his coat pocket, brows slightly furrowed. The usual buzz of students across the quad meant nothing this morning. His ears were straining for a laugh, that laugh. That soft, hiccupy one Jungkook always let out when he was trying not to be loud.

But it never came.

He sat on the edge of the concrete bench outside their usual building, chin in his palm, eyes flicking over the crowd once… twice.

Nothing. His fingers twitched slightly. “Maybe he was just late.” He said to himself.

But the unease that bloomed in his chest said otherwise.

It wasn’t just that they hadn’t talked since yesterday. It was the way Jungkook had looked at him when he said he’d take the bus. The way he’d smiled, not his usual shy and sparkly kind, but a smile that looked like it hurt to wear. And now? He wasn’t here.

"Where the hell is he…" Taehyung muttered under his breath, standing abruptly. He looked around once more before he pulled out his phone. Still no reply to his message from last night. Yes, he did message him.

Fine. He walked toward the hallway where Hoseok was chatting with some classmates. But before he could ask, a familiar voice called out behind him.

“Looking for your boyfriend?” Jimin. Of course.

Taehyung turned with a neutral expression, though the way his jaw ticked slightly betrayed the irritation prickling under his skin. “…He’s not here,” he said plainly, crossing his arms.

Jimin raised an eyebrow and walked up, arms folded too, matching Taehyung’s energy but with a knowing smile. “That’s because he’s not feeling well.”

Taehyung’s gaze snapped up. “What?” His voice came out flatter than he meant it to, but the concern was unmistakable in the sudden stiffness of his posture.

“Yeah.” Jimin’s expression softened. “He messaged me this morning. Said he felt really warm, and Namjoon didn’t let him come to class.”

Taehyung’s stomach dropped. He blinked, then looked down at his phone again, no new messages.

“Why didn’t he tell me,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Jimin let out a soft sigh and reached out to gently tug Taehyung by the sleeve. “I mean, it’s not really my business… but because you two had a fight, right?”

He didn’t respond, so Jimin continued, a bit more gently now. “Tae, you scared him yesterday. Not in a mean way. But, you know… you’re not really used to saying things. And he’s not good at guessing them.”

“…I wasn’t trying to pick a fight.” Taehyung’s brows furrowed as he finally met Jimin’s gaze. His voice was quiet. “I just… I don’t like seeing him get attention and not knowing if he even… noticed it.”

“He noticed,” Jimin said with a small chuckle. “He just didn’t think it mattered. Because he only looks at you.”

Taehyung exhaled deeply through his nose.

He shoved his hand back into his coat pocket, lips twitching slightly like he wanted to say more but didn’t know how. Instead, he asked, “Did he say how bad it was?”

“Just a fever. Namjoon’s taking care of him.” Jimin tilted his head. “You could… y’know. Go over there.”

Taehyung was silent for a moment.

Then, with a scoff that wasn’t quite genuine, he muttered, “Tch. He didn’t even tell me.”

Jimin smirked. “So? You’re his boyfriend. Go to him.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, but his ears turned pink, and he didn’t argue.

Jimin patted his shoulder before turning to walk back toward the building. “Just be soft with him. You’re good at pretending to be cold, but Koo sees right through you.”

Taehyung stood there a moment longer, staring off into the distance. His chest felt tight.

He didn’t want to admit how panicked he’d felt all morning, how the thought of Jungkook avoiding him after that argument made him feel like he was being pushed away from the one person who made his world feel safe.

He took out his phone, tapped once, twice, hesitated… then finally texted,

Taehyung: Heard you’re not feeling well. I'll come over later. [9:12 AM]

He stared at the message. It wasn’t perfect.

But it was a start.

The tulips rustled slightly in the passenger seat as Taehyung pulled up in front of Jungkook’s house. A fresh bouquet, soft pinks and creamy yellows, the exact kind the younger had mentioned once, in passing, when they were walking past a campus flower stall.

It was quiet on Jungkook’s street, the kind of warm, breezy morning where the air smelled like blooming grass and cement warmed under the sun. A small breeze picked up Taehyung’s coat sleeves as he stood nervously in front of the door, tulips clutched tightly in his hand, white with soft pink edges, freshly picked from a roadside stall.

He stared at the doorbell. His finger hovered.

Was this too much? Did Jungkook even want to see him? He hadn’t replied to any of his messages, not even a short “I’m okay.” Nothing.

He closed his eyes, muttered under his breath, and pressed the doorbell before he could back out. The chime echoed inside.

A few seconds passed before the door creaked open, and there stood Namjoon, tall in a loose black shirt, hair a bit messy, expression halfway between curious and surprised.

“Taehyung?”

Taehyung bowed slightly. “Hyung. Hi.”

There was a pause. Namjoon leaned on the doorframe, eyes dropping to the bouquet in his hand. “…You’re here for Jungkook?”

“Yeah. I heard he’s sick,” he answered, gaze flicking upward.

Namjoon blinked once. “You… heard?”

Taehyung shifted. “…Yeah.”

There was a small beat of silence before Namjoon tilted his head slightly, his brows drawing together with something like confusion. “I thought he would’ve told you himself. I mean,” he gestured vaguely, “you’re his boyfriend, right?”

Taehyung froze.

“I mean– aren’t you two always texting? Talking?” Namjoon added, expression caught between curious and mildly surprised. “Jungkook hasn’t been answering much since this morning. He looked awful last night, started burning up around midnight.”

Taehyung’s chest tightened. “…He didn’t say anything to me.”

Namjoon’s face softened a little, reading something in his expression. “Oh… did something happen?”

“No,” he said quickly, then cleared his throat, schooling his voice into something cooler. “I mean, nothing major. We just… I guess he forgot to mention it.”

A long pause. Namjoon’s gaze lingered for a moment, but he didn’t push.

“He’s upstairs. Door to the right,” Namjoon said finally, stepping aside. “He might be asleep, though. You can just leave the flowers by his bed.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

Taehyung opened the door quietly, letting the warm, soft air from inside the room drift out. It smelled like faint vanilla, menthol rub, and heat from the radiator. The curtains were drawn, allowing only slivers of light to touch the edge of the bed.

And on that bed, curled up in layers of blankets, lay Jungkook, face flushed pink, cheeks a bit damp, lips parted in shallow breaths… and fully tucked into a pastel bunny onesie, with soft ears flopped over his forehead.

Taehyung stared. His chest twinged painfully, not just because Jungkook looked ridiculously cute, but because he hadn’t known. He hadn’t known Jungkook was sick. That he’d gone to sleep like this, miserable and alone.

He stepped in slowly, closing the door behind him. He placed the tulips down by the nightstand, careful not to make noise.
But before he could sit, Jungkook stirred.

“Mmh…?”

The bunny hood shifted as Jungkook blinked his eyes open blearily, then squinted at the figure near the bed.

Taehyung watched him quietly. “Nice outfit,” he murmured, finally.

Jungkook groaned and hid further under the blanket. “Please pretend you didn’t see this.”

“You’re sick. You’re allowed to be ridiculous.”

There was a small silence.

Jungkook peeked out from under the hood, his voice softer.

“...I wasn’t mad. I just needed space. I didn’t know how to say that without sounding mean.”

Taehyung nodded faintly. “I get it,” he whispered. “I just… thought maybe you didn’t want me here.”

“You came anyway.”

Taehyung gave a tiny shrug, eyes still lowered. “You didn’t text. Jimin told me. Said you had a fever. I just… wanted to check.”

Jungkook bit his lip. “And the tulips?”

“…You like them,” Taehyung said simply, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I remembered.”

A beat passed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the letters,” Jungkook said, voice wobbling. “I wasn’t hiding them. I just didn’t think they meant anything.”

Taehyung didn’t answer right away. His brows pinched together as if he were fighting the words in his throat.

“It’s not about the letters,” he said eventually. “It’s just… I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how to be someone’s–” He stopped, jaw clenching slightly. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You don’t have to be perfect,” Jungkook said softly. “I just want you.”

Taehyung blinked slowly, then let out a quiet breath. “I know you didn’t mean to make me feel like that. Jealous. Or… left out.”

“Were you?” Jungkook asked, voice small.

Taehyung was quiet for too long before answering. “…Yeah. A little.” His voice was nearly a whisper.

“But it wasn’t your fault. I just… I get scared when I feel like I’m not enough. That maybe one day someone else will talk to you and you’ll realize I don’t know how to say the right things.”

Jungkook sat up further, even though he wobbled. “Hyung…”

Taehyung looked away, ears tinged red. “It’s stupid. You don’t have to say anything.”

“It’s not stupid,” Jungkook whispered. “I wish you told me sooner.”

“I’m not good at it,” Taehyung said, voice tight. “Talking like this. Feeling like this. It’s easier to pretend I don’t care until– I’m scared you’ll leave…”

There was silence. Then the younger slowly reached out from beneath the blanket and touched Taehyung’s hand. His fingers were warm, feverish, but trembling slightly. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. “Even if I’m sick and I look like shit.”

Taehyung’s eyes finally met his, and something in them crumbled just a little. He didn’t smile, not fully, but his hand turned over and laced their fingers together.

“…You’re still annoying,” he murmured, quieter now.

Jungkook let out a soft laugh, half-cough, half-sigh. “You’re worse,” he whispered back.

Taehyung stood suddenly, tugging the blanket up over Jungkook’s chest more securely.

“I’ll get you water. And medicine,” he said, almost too quickly, as if fleeing from the weight of what had just passed between them. But before he turned, Jungkook caught his sleeve.

“Tae?”

Taehyung paused.

“Thanks for coming,” he whispered.

Taehyung didn’t turn around, but his fingers tightened on the doorknob.

“…Of course.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The room had dimmed with the slow fall of evening and muted rustles of fabric. Jungkook had drifted off again, finally calmed by the warmth of the blanket Taehyung had tucked up to his chin, the light press of a cold towel against his forehead, and the quiet sound of Taehyung’s breathing from where he sat beside the bed.

Taehyung hadn’t moved in hours.

He hadn’t meant to stay this long, he thought he’d just drop by, make sure Jungkook was okay, then leave after seeing he was resting. But that plan dissolved the moment Jungkook’s hand gripped his sleeve in his fevered haze. It didn’t matter that Jungkook didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to.

Taehyung understood. He had always been better at observing than expressing. And tonight, he would show how much he cared not with perfect words, but by staying.

He moved around the room in careful silence, fingers brushing over Jungkook’s scattered books and notebooks on the desk. A bunny plushie sat on the pillow beside him, pink, worn at the ears. Taehyung adjusted it gently. Then, when the boy stirred again in sleep, he reached for the bowl of porridge he had made earlier in the kitchen, reheated it, and returned.

It took a few quiet attempts to get Jungkook to eat, Taehyung cradling the bowl with one hand, his other guiding a spoon to Jungkook’s lips like he was handling something fragile and precious. Jungkook, even half-asleep, leaned into the care, lips parting obediently, eyes fluttering open only to meet Taehyung’s gaze for brief seconds before sliding shut again.

When the food was gone and the medicine followed, chased with soft curses and coughs, Taehyung tucked him in once more, this time sliding down to sit on the floor against the bedframe, eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

The hours passed like that, quiet, slow. A rhythm of checking the fever, replacing the towel, brushing Jungkook’s bangs from his forehead with the backs of his knuckles. At some point, Jungkook reached for his hand in his sleep and never let go.

Taehyung let him.

The morning was quieter.

He woke up curled up beside Jungkook’s bed on a spare blanket, his back sore but his heart full of something heavy and warm. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, dust catching in the light like floating stars.

Namjoon had left early for work, judging by the faint noise Taehyung remembered hearing around six. The house was silent now, too big and too still, and Jungkook was still sleeping when Taehyung sat up and stretched the ache from his arms.

He texted Hoseok, a single line. “Not going to class today. Tell the prof I’m sick too”.

No explanation. No emoji. Hoseok would get it.

He stood and padded back into the kitchen barefoot, careful not to make noise. He found rice, boiled it with ginger and scallions, and reheated leftover soup. Everything he did was slow, methodical.

A rhythm of care he wasn’t used to offering. But it felt natural here, in Jungkook’s space, where things smelled like lavender, where the walls had photos of him and Namjoon framed with little stickers in the corners.

He brought the food back upstairs on a tray, along with water and another dose of medicine. Jungkook stirred as the door creaked open, eyes cracking half-lidded and sleepy.

Taehyung didn’t speak. He just settled the tray on the bedside table, adjusted the blankets, and helped him sit up against the pillows. Jungkook blinked slowly, eyes swollen and warm from fever, and leaned into Taehyung’s shoulder without asking.

Taehyung allowed it. Quietly. Almost fearfully.

He spoon-fed him again.

Every motion was careful, calculated not to draw attention to the way his heart was twisting beneath his ribs, not to let Jungkook see how scared he still was of ruining things, of not doing it right. But his fingers were gentle when they wiped the corners of Jungkook’s mouth.

His eyes lingered too long when Jungkook closed his own to swallow. And when he took the empty tray and Jungkook quietly reached for his hand again, the same way he had the night before, Taehyung let him. No hesitation this time.

They stayed like that in the silence of the morning, alone in the house, wrapped in a quiet closeness neither of them had words for yet. Nothing had been fixed with grand apologies or declarations, but something had shifted.

In the gentle weight of Jungkook’s head against his shoulder, in the sound of soft breathing and the blanket pulled over their legs, Taehyung knew.

This was what love looked like, in its quietest, most fragile form.

And he was learning how to hold it.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant chatter of a television filled the otherwise still house. The sun had begun to tilt westward, and in the quiet cocoon of his bedroom, Jungkook stirred gently under the covers.

He felt lighter. His fever had ebbed away slowly, leaving only a lingering fog in its place. His body no longer ached, though his limbs still felt a little slow, like they were just waking from a long dream.

Taehyung was beside him again, this time sitting upright against the wall, one leg stretched out and the other bent up as he scrolled idly through his phone. A quiet kind of presence, constant but not overwhelming, as if he were trying not to be too much.

Jungkook smiled softly, letting his eyes rest on Taehyung’s profile for a few seconds before speaking.

"Hyung..." His voice was still scratchy, and his cheeks flushed even before the words came out. "Can we… bake something? Just something simple. I’ve been wanting to for a while now."

Taehyung blinked, pausing his scrolling. His head turned, gaze narrowing in that flat, unreadable way Jungkook had come to recognize.

“You’re still sick,” Taehyung said coolly, raising a brow. “No.”

He pouted, lips jutting out as he pushed the covers off with a bit of exaggerated drama. “But I feel better…”

“You feel better after sleeping two hours,” Taehyung deadpanned, standing before Jungkook could even try to get up. “That doesn’t mean you are better. What if you pass out while cracking an egg, What then?”

"I wouldn’t," He mumbled, small and sheepish. He sat up anyway, hugging his knees in the oversized bunny onesie, the ears flopping pitifully on either side of his face. “Please... just cookies or something?”

“No.”

Jungkook bit his lip, then crawled to the edge of the bed on his knees and reached out, fingers curling lightly around the hem of Taehyung’s sleeve. “I’ll be careful. I promise. Just like... one tray? I’ll even let you yell at me if I get dizzy.”

Taehyung sighed sharply through his nose, glancing away like he was trying not to make eye contact. “Jungkook,” he muttered, quieter this time. “You don’t have to do anything. You should be resting.”

“I know,” He whispered, fingers tightening slightly on his sleeve. “But I just wanna do something with you. Just us.”

That got Taehyung.

Taehyung froze. And despite the clear line of tension in his shoulders, his eyes flicked briefly down to where Jungkook was still looking up at him, pink-cheeked and hopeful. And then, very softly, Jungkook leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth.

It was light. Barely there. But it made Taehyung's spine stiffen like someone had run a hand up it.

“You’re not fighting fair,” Taehyung murmured, voice rough and dangerously quiet.

“I know,” Jungkook whispered, lips brushing again, this time just beneath Taehyung’s jaw. “One tray?”

Taehyung stared down at him. Deadpan. And then he rolled his eyes..

“Fine,” he sighed, turning on his heel before Jungkook could do it again. “But you’re sitting down for everything. I don’t care if the flour’s across the kitchen, you point, I fetch. Got it?”

Jungkook beamed.

“Yes, chef.”

Taehyung turned again with a withering glare, finger pointed like a warning. “You so much as wobble, and I’m carrying you back upstairs.”

“Okay,” he giggled, already stumbling toward the door.

“You think I’m joking, Jeon.”

But even as he said it, Taehyung was already in the kitchen ten minutes later, sleeves rolled up, preheating the oven and setting ingredients in front of Jungkook like a sulky sous-chef.

Jungkook sat on a stool, cheeks pink and hair fluffy, watching him like he’d just won the lottery. It wasn’t about the cookies. It was about sharing something warm, sweet, together.

The kitchen was filled with the faint scent of butter and vanilla, lingering even before anything had hit the oven. The marble counter gleamed under the warm overhead lights, and a mixing bowl sat proudly in the center, already half full of soft, pale dough speckled with chocolate chips.

Jungkook was perched on a cushioned stool, his sleeves rolled up just above his wrists, bunny onesie a little flour-dusted already. His cheeks were still flushed from the fever, a bit of sweat on his forehead, but his eyes sparkled with quiet excitement as he reached for the paper bag of flour beside him.

“I can do it,” he murmured softly, fingers curling around the top.

Taehyung didn’t look up right away as he stirred the bowl slowly. “Be careful. I’m not cleaning a flour snowstorm.”

“I will be careful,” he pouted, tugging the bag a little closer. But the edge of the counter caught the bottom unexpectedly, and in one swift, tragic instant, the bag crumpled from underneath.

Flour everywhere.

A soft cloud exploded across the counter, showering Taehyung’s black shirt and coating Jungkook’s front like a blizzard had passed through the kitchen. The air was filled with floating white powder that shimmered in the kitchen light.

There was a pause, an awful, crushing silence.

Taehyung slowly looked up from the bowl. His front dusted in white like a ghost.

And Jungkook froze. His eyes went round, horrified, and suddenly, too suddenly, they welled up with tears.

“I– I’m sorry,” he stammered, voice breaking as he looked down at the mess. “I didn’t mean to, I–I tried to be careful–” His bottom lip trembled as he turned away, shielding his face with his flour-covered hands. “I messed it up…”

“Wait–” Taehyung blinked, voice faltering. He stood motionless for a second, like his body hadn’t caught up with his brain.

Jungkook's shoulders quivered.

“Hey, no, no, don’t cry–” Taehyung finally rushed forward, still unsure, panic bubbling under his cool exterior. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just flour, baby.”

But Jungkook didn’t look up. “It’s not just that,” he whispered, voice thick. “I just wanted to do something nice. I keep messing everything up lately…”

And that shattered something in Taehyung’s chest.

He stared helplessly, mouth parting, closing again. His fingers twitched by his sides, awkward, unsure, and finally, stiffly, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Jungkook from behind. It wasn’t smooth. It wasn’t perfect. But it was warm.

“Don’t say that,” Taehyung murmured, almost gruffly, his chin brushing lightly over Jungkook’s shoulder. “You’re not messing anything up.”

“You’re just saying that,” he sniffled, not quite leaning back but not moving away either.

“I’m not.” Taehyung’s voice dropped lower, softer, and his fingers flexed lightly where they rested on his sides. “I don’t know how to say these things right, but… I like being here. With you. Even if you drop an entire sack of flour. Twice.”

“That was once...”

“It will be twice if you start crying on my clean shirt,” Taehyung deadpanned.

A small, reluctant laugh escaped Jungkook’s lips, quiet, trembling.

Taehyung sighed, lowering his head so his forehead gently bumped against the crook of Jungkook’s neck. “You scared me earlier, okay? When you didn’t reply. And then I showed up, and you were sick, and now you’re crying over cookies... I’m not used to this. Any of it.”

He finally turned a little in his arms, teary eyes peeking up at him. “Used to what…?”

Taehyung paused, mouth pressed in a tight line. Then he looked away, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand while the other remained at Jungkook’s waist.

“Loving someone this much.”

The air fell still again, but this time, not heavy. Just quiet. Warm.

He smiled through his wet lashes and shyly leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against the corner of Taehyung’s flour-covered mouth.

“You’re doing fine,” he whispered. “Even if your comforting technique is a little... stern.”

“I’m literally hugging you.”

“You threatened me about crying on your shirt.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes but leaned in anyway, resting his forehead gently against Jungkook’s again. “Shut up and sit back down. I’m remaking the dough.”

He giggled softly, wiping his face with his sleeve and climbing back on the stool. Taehyung muttered something under his breath about bunnies being too soft and dangerous.

But he didn’t leave Jungkook’s side again.

Even when the next tray went in the oven, even when the flour had long settled, Taehyung stayed there, a quiet presence with flour still dusting his shirt and affection written across his every awkward gesture.

The scent of warm chocolate and brown sugar filled the air as the cookies cooled on the wire rack by the stove. Outside, dusk had already draped the neighborhood. In the kitchen, flour still lingered like a quiet witness to the earlier chaos, faint prints on the counter, a fine dusting on the floor.

Jungkook sat curled up on the couch now, wrapped in his favorite fleece blanket, his onesie barely visible underneath the fabric. His hair was a fluffy halo from the heat of his low-grade fever and the afterglow of warm sugar.

The soft clink of a sponge hitting porcelain came from the kitchen. Taehyung had insisted on cleaning everything himself, sleeves pushed up, lips pressed into a neutral line as he scrubbed the bowls and wiped down the counters.

But Jungkook knew him well enough now to see through the nonchalance, every extra sweep of his rag, every exaggerated sigh, it all meant I care about you too much to let you move a finger right now.

He watched him from the couch with a small smile, his cheeks still a little pink from the heat and residual embarrassment. He clutched a small plate of cookies in his lap, legs tucked neatly beneath him.

The front door clicked open.

“Jungkook?” Namjoon’s voice echoed softly from the hallway. “I’m home.”

“In here, hyung!” he called out, his voice slightly hoarse but sweeter than it had been in days.

Namjoon appeared in the archway to the living room, dropping his bag near the door, eyes widening as they landed on the blanket-wrapped bunny and then flicked to the kitchen. Taehyung turned at the same time, one hand still holding a soapy towel, the other halfway to rinsing a mixing bowl.

“...You two baked?” Namjoon blinked, stepping inside, his gaze darting between Jungkook’s glowing cheeks and the faint remnants of flour still on Taehyung’s black shirt.

Jungkook held up the plate proudly. “Wanna try one?”

Namjoon gave him a long look, then chuckled as he walked over and sank into the armchair beside the couch. “You’re supposed to be resting, not throwing a bake-off.”

He pouted. “I was resting. I just… needed to do something sweet.”

Taehyung gave a soft snort from the kitchen, drying his hands on a clean towel before finally returning to the living room. He stood behind the couch for a moment, then carefully leaned down to slide in next to Jungkook, tucking himself into the corner.

Their legs brushed beneath the blanket, and even though his expression was unreadable, his hand rested lightly atop Jungkook’s knee, fingers curling just slightly.

Namjoon raised a brow at the display but said nothing, at least, not yet.

He bit into a cookie, chewing thoughtfully. “These are actually good.”

“They’re amazing,” he said softly, leaning into Taehyung without thinking. “He wouldn’t let me lift a finger.”

Taehyung scoffed, eyes fixed on the television remote. “You dropped an entire bag of flour and then cried about it.”

“I was sick and vulnerable!”

Namjoon blinked. “You cried?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Taehyung muttered quickly, clearing his throat, cheeks barely dusting pink. “It wasn’t– he just got overwhelmed.”

Namjoon studied them both carefully, Jungkook snuggled under the blanket, pink-cheeked and glowing despite his fever, and Taehyung tried and failed to look as detached as ever, his fingers now fidgeting with the edge of the couch cushion.

“I was actually gonna ask,” Namjoon said, voice gentler now. “You feeling better, Kook?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Still a little warm, but… better now.”

“He took his medicine,” Taehyung added quietly. “And he ate.”

Namjoon gave him a slow nod, as if assessing something deeper beneath those words. “Thanks for taking care of him, Taehyung.”

Taehyung looked away, ears tinged red. “It’s nothing. I… I wanted to.”

There was a beat of silence, one that felt full, not awkward, and Namjoon finally smiled. “Good,” he said. “Because I think he needs someone like you.”

His heart thumped once, deep and strong, beneath the blanket. Taehyung didn’t reply, but his hand gently gripped Jungkook’s under the covers, not tightly, not possessively.

Just there.

And that was enough.

The three of them stayed in the living room for a while, the cookies slowly disappearing, the TV murmuring in the background. At one point, Jungkook dozed off a little, his head against Taehyung’s shoulder, and Namjoon just shook his head with a small smile and covered them with an extra blanket before leaving them to rest.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Chapter Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Brushing against his cheek as he blinked blearily at the ceiling. His body felt lighter, less achy, though a lingering tickle still haunted his throat. He yawned quietly, stretching under the covers, before something on his nightstand caught his eye.

A folded note. A familiar slant in the handwriting.

His breath hitched softly as he reached for it with careful fingers.

"Didn’t want to wake you. Don’t forget to drink water. You talk too much and your voice will go again if you don’t rest it. I’ll see you tomorrow."

– Tae

The last words were scribbled hastily, as if he were too embarrassed to leave them in the first place. But he held the paper to his chest anyway, hiding his flustered smile in the folds of his blanket.

His heart was thudding too fast for someone who had just woken up.

By the time he stepped out of the car at the school gate, bundled in a thick gray sweater and a black face mask, his ears were already red, both from the cool air and the memory of that note. He adjusted the strap of his bag over one shoulder and tugged the sweater sleeves over his hands, still feeling warm inside despite the cold.

Then he saw him. Taehyung stood by the gate, black coat draped over his frame, earbuds in but not playing anything. His eyes flicked up as soon as he spotted Jungkook.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just walked up casually and wordlessly slid the strap of Jungkook’s bag off his shoulder, slinging it over his own instead. Then, with the same impassive face, he reached down and took Jungkook’s hand.

Their fingers laced together naturally.

“Morning,” Taehyung murmured, not quite meeting his eyes. “You still look kind of sick.”

Jungkook’s voice was muffled by the mask. “I’m okay.”

“Take more water with you today. And don’t skip your medicine.”

Jungkook blinked, warmth creeping up his cheeks again. “Okay…”

“You didn’t reply to my message.” “That’s lame.”

“I fell asleep…” he whispered, eyes dipping low.

Taehyung didn’t reply, but his thumb brushed softly across the back of Jungkook’s hand as they started walking. Jimin and Hoseok were already near the steps of the building, sipping coffee and chatting quietly. The moment they spotted Jungkook, both of them lit up.

Jimin stepped forward first. “Hey Koo, you're okay now?” he asked, voice soft, eyes scanning him head to toe. “You still sound a little rough.”

Jungkook nodded sheepishly, clutching his sleeves. “Getting there.”

“You look warm, at least,” Hoseok smiled, eyeing the oversized sweater. “Rest did you good.”

Taehyung didn’t say much, but his grip on Jungkook’s hand stayed firm.

“He still needs to drink water after lunch,” Taehyung muttered, gaze averted like it was no big deal. “And no talking too much.”

Jimin smiled gently at that. “Got it. We’ll make sure.”

Hoseok nudged Jungkook lightly on the arm. “You need anything, just say so, yeah?”
Jungkook nodded, eyes dipping shyly to his shoes.

As the four of them headed inside, the sound of footsteps soft on the tile, Taehyung’s hand didn’t leave Jungkook’s. Not even once. And even if he didn’t smile in public or speak too much, he held on steady and quiet, like a promise only Jungkook could feel.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

A few days later, Jungkook lay curled under his thick sweater, one knee pulled up as he fiddled nervously with his phone. The scent of flour and sugar from the cookie baking still lingered faintly in his mind, mixing with the warmth he felt whenever he thought about Taehyung’s quiet, steady presence.

“You’re really good at being patient,” Jungkook had whispered the last time they were together, cheeks burning as Taehyung’s fingers brushed a stray hair behind his ear.

He pressed the edge of his phone to his lips, hiding his face in the sweater collar. His fingers trembled as he tapped on the screen again. Earlier, he had accidentally clicked on something, something that wasn’t like the kisses or gentle touches he knew. The screen had changed to words and pictures that made his heart race and his cheeks flush hot.

Sex? The word itself felt heavy and strange.

He knew about kissing, about the warmth of Taehyung’s lips on his own. He even knew how to get shy and smile when Taehyung teased him. But what came after? The words on the screen spoke about things that made him feel a mixture of curiosity and fear, about his body, about how having breasts and a vagina made it all feel… different.

He swallowed hard.

And there was something else, something Jungkook had never told anyone, he had never touched himself before. Not really. Not in that way. The idea was new, confusing, and a little bit scary.

His fingers trembled as they hovered over the screen. There were words about how touching oneself could feel nice, how it could help understand the body better. But the thought made his face burn hotter.

How do you even start? he wondered, cheeks flushing at the unfamiliar feelings stirring inside him.

He leaned back on his pillow, face flaming as he thought of Taehyung. How Taehyung’s hands had always been gentle, careful, as if afraid to hurt him. How their kisses had never rushed beyond shy smiles and soft touches.

Would he want to…? The thought made his cheeks burn brighter.

His eyes darted back to the screen. He read about consent, about waiting until both people were ready, about the importance of trust, and that it was okay not to know everything right away.

“Is this supposed to feel scary?” he whispered to the quiet room.

“I don’t even know how to do this…” Jungkook admitted softly, voice barely above a whisper, his fingers curling uncertainly around the edge of his sweater.

He imagined Taehyung’s hands, the way they would linger on his back, on his sides, never pushing past the line Jungkook wasn’t ready for. “He’s patient,” he whispered, tracing a finger over his collarbone. “He always waits for me.”

Meanwhile, Jungkook lay on his bed, heart fluttering like a trapped butterfly. Over the past few weeks, he’d been reading quietly, searching for answers to the strange questions swirling in his mind, questions about his body, about feelings that were new and confusing.

Tonight, something felt different. A mix of curiosity and nervousness bloomed inside him, urging him to try, just to understand, just a little.

His hoodie, soft and threadbare, was shoved up to his collarbone, revealing the gentle curve of his breasts, the pale skin flushed pink under the tight black tank top. The fabric clung to his hardened nipples, betraying his nervous excitement. His sweatpants, a faded navy, sagged low on his hips, exposing the delicate lace trim of his white cotton panties, now slightly damp where they hugged the swollen contours of his pussy.

He froze for a moment, eyes wide, cheeks burning fiercely.

Am I allowed to feel this? he wondered, heart pounding.

His hand moved again, slower now, tentative, like learning a language with no guide. A quiet gasp escaped his lips, quickly covered by biting his bottom lip. The blush spreading across his face was almost impossible to hide.

Keep quiet… don’t make a sound, he told himself, pressing his hand lightly, feeling both awkward and strangely… nice.

His mind raced with worry and wonder. Is this okay? Am I doing this right? The innocent confusion was almost too much. He pictured Taehyung’s gentle touch, steady and careful, and suddenly, the nervousness softened.

“I’m okay”, he whispered to himself, heart still racing but calmer now.

Minutes passed in shy exploration, cheeks flushed bright as his breath grew uneven.

Jungkook’s messy black hair stuck to his sweaty forehead as he leaned back against the headboard, thighs parted. His slender fingers, trembling with anticipation, slipped beneath the panties’ elastic, brushing the warm, slick folds of his labia.

A soft, “Oh…,” escaped his lips, his voice barely a whisper, thick with embarrassment and need. His clitoris, small and pulsing, glistened with his arousal, the musky scent mixing with the room’s sandalwood haze.

“Ah… this is… too much,” he murmured, his hips twitching as his fingers explored deeper, the wet sound of his touch barely muffled.

His toes curled into the quilt, a shy moan breaking free as he surrendered to the slow, electric thrill. His breath hitched, his cheeks burning brighter as he glanced nervously at the locked door, half-expecting an interruption despite the silence of the house.

His fingers moved with tentative confidence, circling his clit with a rhythm he’d pieced together from late-night searches online.

“God… why’s it feel so… good?” he whispered, his voice cracking with a mix of shame and wonder.

The slickness of his pussy juice coated his fingers, dripping slowly onto the cotton of his panties, leaving a dark, wet patch. His thighs trembled, the muscles tensing as he pressed harder, a loud, “Mmm… ah!” slipping out before he bit his lip to stifle it.

The room felt alive with his quiet gasps, the air thick with the intimate scent of his body. His free hand gripped the quilt, knuckles whitening, as he arched slightly, chasing the building heat.

“Okay… okay, just… keep going,” he muttered to himself, eyes fluttering shut, lost in the forbidden rush of his own touch.

His tank top, now slightly damp with sweat, clung to the soft curve of his breasts, the outline of his hardened nipples stark against the thin fabric.

"Taehyung..." he whispered, his voice a mix of shame and longing. His free hand slid up his stomach, beneath the tight tank top, to cup his busty breast.

He squeezed gently, thumb brushing over the hardened nipple, sending sparks of pleasure through his body.

“Ah–” The cool air kissed his flushed skin as the tank top rode up, exposing his heaving chest. His fingers circled his clit faster, the wet sounds of his arousal filling the room. "I can't..." he murmured.

“Fuck… Tae,” Jungkook whispered, voice trembling with a mix of desire and embarrassment, imagining Taehyung’s low chuckle filling the room. His pussy throbbed, the rosy folds slick and swollen, his clitoris pulsing under his hesitant touch. A wave of shyness crashed over him, his cheeks flaming as he yanked his fingers free, the wet sound abrupt in the quiet.

“Oh god, what am I doing?” he muttered, scrambling off the bed, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood as he bolted for the bathroom.

The door clicked shut behind him, his heart racing, the musky scent of his arousal still lingering on his skin as he leaned against the sink, face burning with flustered heat.

The water ran in a gentle stream from the faucet, its sound echoing softly in the tiled bathroom. Jungkook gripped the edge of the sink with both hands, his knuckles pale against the white porcelain. His face was flushed down to the tips of his ears, cheeks burning with a warmth that refused to fade, no matter how many times he splashed cold water on them.

His eyes, wide and unsure, lifted to the mirror.

His reflection stared back, damp hair clinging to his forehead, lips slightly parted, chest still rising and falling in uneven rhythms. He looked... different. Not in a bad way. Just new. He covered his mouth with one hand, heart hammering. He’d actually done it.

After weeks of late-night curiosity and hushed searches, of blushing in silence and deleting browser tabs the second someone walked by, even if no one ever actually did, he had finally given in. Just to try. Just to see. And now, standing in the aftermath of it all, the memory alone made his thighs squeeze together instinctively.

But what flustered him the most wasn’t the act itself.

It was the way his mind kept slipping back to him.

Taehyung’s face, sharp, unreadable, beautiful, flashed behind his eyes. The way his voice dropped when he was being serious. The way his fingers lingered a little too long when fixing Jungkook’s hair. The way he always pretended not to care in front of others but would pull Jungkook’s chair closer with a quiet "You'll get cold there," as if that wasn’t the softest thing in the world.

Jungkook buried his burning face into the crook of his elbow, letting out a soft groan.

“I’m terrible,” he whispered under his breath. “He’s gonna know.”

He felt guilty, not because what he’d done was wrong, but because he’d let himself think of Taehyung in such an intimate way. Taehyung, who still acted all cold in public but brushed his fingers against Jungkook’s wrist under the table. Taehyung, who had held his hand like it was second nature. Who rolled his eyes when Hoseok offered to help carry Jungkook’s things but took them wordlessly himself.

He squeezed his eyes shut, heart fluttering with both embarrassment and... longing. “Ugh…”

He didn’t know what was happening to him, only that being around Taehyung felt like slowly being pulled into a warm, starless night. Quiet and deep. Something he didn’t want to escape from.

Still, the thought of facing him again, knowing what had gone through his mind... Jungkook whimpered softly and splashed more water on his cheeks, determined to act normal the next day.

Even if his heart, and probably his face, would betray him the second Taehyung looked at him.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jungkook had barely slept.

He lay in bed for hours, tangled in his sheets, the memory of last night refusing to fade no matter how hard he tried. The way his body reacted… the way his name, Taehyung, kept echoing in his head at the peak of it all. It was mortifying. How was he supposed to look his boyfriend in the eyes now?

So, he didn’t.

The next morning, he left early, slipping in before Taehyung could come wait for him like usual. He walked faster than necessary, tugging his mask up even higher and burying his face in a thick scarf, even though the sun was already warming the day. In class, he sat a little too straight. Laughed a little too loudly at Hoseok’s jokes. And avoided turning his head even a little toward the boy sitting beside him.

Taehyung noticed. Of course he did.

He glanced at Jungkook more than once, brows furrowing ever so slightly. Normally, Jungkook greeted him with a shy smile or at least a quiet “Good morning.” Today, he didn’t even make eye contact. He just nodded, nodded, like Taehyung was a professor, not his boyfriend.

Taehyung tapped his pen twice against his notebook, then leaned slightly toward Jungkook. “Did I do something?” he asked quietly, voice low so only Jungkook could hear.

Jungkook startled, eyes wide. He shook his head quickly, maybe a little too quickly. “N-No! You didn’t,” he whispered, staring down at his hands. “I just… didn’t sleep well.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at him.

There was a brief pause. Then, Taehyung leaned back in his seat with a small sigh, arms crossed loosely over his chest. He glanced forward again, lips pressed in a thin line.

But his eyes kept drifting sideways.

Later that day, Jimin sat across from Jungkook and blinked at him slowly, sipping his iced coffee. “You’re being weird,” he said, straw still in his mouth.

Jungkook froze mid-bite of his sandwich. “I am not.”

“You are,” Jimin said casually. “You haven’t looked Taehyung in the eye all day. He’s confused and trying not to show it, but you’re literally ignoring him like he’s a ghost.”

Jungkook ducked his head, cheeks warming all over again. “I’m not ignoring him…”

“Then what are you doing?”

He gripped his sandwich a little tighter. He couldn’t tell Jimin. He couldn’t tell anyone. That'd be embarrassing. The idea of saying it aloud made his stomach twist. What if Taehyung found out?

Before Jimin could press again, someone dropped their bag down beside Jungkook with a heavy thud. Jungkook looked up and froze when he met familiar brown eyes.

Taehyung sat down without a word, his expression stoic, sharp lines and lazy eyes, as if none of this mattered. He leaned back against the bench with one arm slung over the top rail, posture too casual for someone so obviously tense.

Jimin glanced between the two of them, then stood. “I’m gonna get... napkins or something,” he mumbled, grabbing his drink. “Be right back.”

Taehyung didn’t look at him. Didn’t look at Jungkook either. He just sat there, gaze fixed ahead on the grass, jaw set.

Jungkook kept his eyes on his lap.

The silence stretched long and thick between them.

Finally, without shifting his gaze, Taehyung spoke, low and clipped. “You’re avoiding me.”

He flinched. “I’m not...”

“You left early. Didn’t wait. Won’t even look at me.” Taehyung’s voice was flat. Not accusing, just... stating facts. Like he was trying not to let anything show.

Jungkook fumbled for words. “It’s not– It’s nothing like that. I’m just… I’m being weird, I know.”

Taehyung’s gaze flicked to him for a second, unreadable, then turned away again. “…You get quiet when something’s bothering you,” he said softly. “But you don’t tell me what it is.”

Jungkook looked down, flustered. His voice came out small. “It’s embarrassing.”

Taehyung blinked slowly, then gave the faintest nod. “Okay.” He didn’t press. Didn’t sigh. Just… accepted it. “I’ll wait,” he added simply, eyes still focused on the courtyard. “But don’t run away too long.”

He looked at him, heart aching a little. “You’re not mad?”

Taehyung finally turned his head slightly, just enough for Jungkook to catch the way his expression softened. Not a smile. But close. “No,” he said, voice steady. “Just worried.”

Then, quietly, his fingers brushed against Jungkook’s beneath the bench. Barely there. But enough.

“Eat a little more,” Taehyung murmured. “You didn’t finish your lunch.”

And just like that, he pulled his hand away and leaned back again, as if nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just said something so gentle in the middle of such awkward silence.

Jungkook blinked rapidly, cheeks burning. “…Okay,” he whispered.

Taehyung didn’t reply. But his leg, still crossed, tapped lightly against Jungkook’s knee, once, twice. A quiet reminder. He was still there.

The sun was beginning to dip. Light streamed lazily through the classroom windows, catching dust motes in the air and stretching long shadows across the tiled floor. The room was quiet, almost still, except for the gentle rustle of papers.

Jungkook sat at a desk by the window, head slightly tilted as he highlighted notes in pastel colors. Hair curled gently over his brow, lips pursed in concentration. His legs were tucked under the desk, feet swinging idly. His face glowed subtly under the fading light.

The doorknob twisted.

He blinked and looked up as it creaked open. “Oh– Mingyu?”

“Hey,” Mingyu said with a sheepish grin, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Am I bothering you?”

Jungkook shook his head gently, a small smile forming on his lips. “Not at all. Did you forget something?”

“Sort of,” Mingyu chuckled, stepping inside. He walked toward Jungkook’s desk, then leaned against the one beside it. “I was actually hoping to ask you for some advice.”

He tilted his head slightly, curious. “What kind of advice?”

“Well,” Mingyu cleared his throat, glancing around the room before speaking again, “there’s this girl I’ve been seeing. We’re not, like, official or anything, but I want to get her something nice. Cute, but not over the top.”

“Oh,” Jungkook’s eyes lit up a little. “That’s sweet.”

Mingyu nodded. “Yeah, but the thing is… I suck at picking out gifts. Seriously. If I go with what I think is cute, she’s gonna end up with a pair of socks that say ‘I’m awesome’ or something.”

He giggled softly. “That’s not so bad…”

“Still,” Mingyu grinned. “You’ve got this soft, pretty vibe. You always look like you stepped out of a Pinterest board. I figured you'd know what makes someone’s heart flutter.”

Jungkook’s cheeks flushed a little. He ducked his head shyly, mumbling, “That’s… really not true…”

“It is,” Mingyu said with a laugh. “So– help me out?”

Jungkook nodded bashfully. “Sure… do you have anything in mind yet?”

Mingyu shrugged. “Not really. I just thought maybe I could... I don’t know, test a few lines on you? Like, pretend you’re her. And if you cringe, I know not to use it.”

Jungkook blinked, eyes wide. “W-What? Me?”

Mingyu chuckled. “It’s not weird, right? I mean, you’re cute, too– so it’s perfect practice.”

Outside the door, ajar just slightly, a figure had stopped in his tracks.

Taehyung.

He had been wandering the halls, idly looking for Jungkook after class. Not for any particular reason. He just… liked walking with him. Or carrying his bag. Or, lately, brushing his fingers quietly against Jungkook’s when no one was watching.

Hearing voices inside the classroom, he paused. He recognized one instantly.

Jungkook.

He took a small step forward, brows furrowing as he caught Mingyu’s next words, “How about something like, ‘I thought of you when I saw this… you’re the first person who came to mind.’"

Taehyung blinked.

Inside the classroom, Jungkook’s soft laugh echoed. “That’s kind of sweet,” he said, voice warm. “A little cheesy, but… it’d definitely make someone smile.”

Mingyu grinned. “You think?”

“Mhm,” Jungkook hummed, tugging his sleeve over his hand. “It feels... personal. Honest.”

Taehyung stepped back slightly. His expression didn’t change much, but something behind his eyes wavered. He didn’t hear the full context. Didn’t catch the part about the girl Mingyu was courting.

All he saw was Mingyu leaning a little too close. All he heard was Jungkook’s soft laugh, flustered voice. And something inside Taehyung clenched. He turned on his heel and walked away, shoulders stiff.

Inside, Mingyu was scribbling in his notebook.

Jungkook smiled faintly, head resting against his palm. “She’s lucky. You’re putting a lot of thought into this.”

Mingyu smiled. “Thanks to you.”

After that, the door clicked shut behind Mingyu, leaving a soft silence in his wake.

Jungkook tried to calm his breathing, cheeks still tingling from embarrassment. Practicing a gift-giving scene with Mingyu shouldn’t have made him this flustered. But it did. Because the whole thing had felt… oddly intimate. And more than that, he hadn’t even thought of how it might look if someone had seen.

The door creaked open again.

“Jungkook-ah?” Hoseok’s bright voice rang into the room, followed by the tap of shoes and the casual squeak of the door swinging wider. “There you are, Koo!”

Behind him, Jimin slipped in with an amused grin, Jin with a bag of snacks in hand, and Yoongi dragging his feet with mild indifference but soft eyes scanning the room.

“Found him,” Jimin declared cheerfully. “Looking like he’s hiding.”

Jungkook sat up straighter in his seat, fingers clutching the edge of his notebook. “I– I wasn’t hiding. I was just helping Mingyu with something…”

“Oh?” Jin asked, eyebrows lifting curiously as he handed Yoongi a small pack of gummies.

“Mingyu said you were good at cute things,” Jimin chimed in, plopping into a chair across Jungkook. “What’d you help him with?”

Jungkook’s cheeks flared. “He… he wanted help choosing a gift for a girl he likes. He thought I’d know what’s sweet.”

Yoongi, now sitting lazily in the chair beside Jin, raised a brow. “He did?”

“Mhm,” Jungkook nodded shyly. “He asked to pretend I was the girl… just to see how the gift would come across.”

There was a moment of teasing silence as Hoseok gave a dramatic gasp, but Jimin nudged him.

“No teasing,” Jimin murmured. “He looks embarrassed already.”

Hoseok chuckled and threw up his hands in surrender.

Jin hummed thoughtfully, eyes flicking toward the door, and just in time, because it opened again.

Taehyung stepped in slowly, hands in his pockets, his gaze scanning the room until it landed on Jungkook. His expression didn’t change, but his presence filled the space like a tide. Calm. Watchful. Cool to the touch.

Jungkook looked up and smiled, small and uncertain. “Tae…”

Taehyung blinked once, then walked over, stopping just in front of him. Without saying anything, he reached down and gently took Jungkook’s bag from where it sat on the desk. His fingers brushed against Jungkook’s as he did, lingering for a second longer than necessary.

Jungkook’s lips parted slightly, but Taehyung didn’t look at him.

“You should’ve messaged,” he murmured finally, voice low and quiet, but steady. “We thought you left.”

“I… I was going to, but I got caught up. Sorry…”

“It’s fine,” Taehyung said shortly, still not looking at him. “Let’s go.”

Hoseok, sensing the shift in mood, gave Jimin a small nudge. Jimin nodded in silent agreement, his eyes flicking toward Jungkook, then Taehyung.

Yoongi stretched his arms overhead and grunted, “Alright, time to head out.”

“Yeah,” Jin added with a small smile, trying to ease the tension. “Let’s all get home before curfew gets dramatic haha–”

They all began to move, the shuffle of bags and jackets echoing gently in the room.

Jungkook hesitated, standing up slowly. His eyes followed Taehyung, who now walked a little ahead of him, the weight of Jungkook’s bag slung over one shoulder.

Jimin fell into step beside Jungkook, lowering his voice so only he could hear. “You okay?”

He nodded faintly, though his lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah. I just… I think he’s mad.”

Jimin gave him a small pat on the back. “Talk to him later, hmm? You know how he is.”

Jungkook didn’t reply, but he glanced at Taehyung’s back, quiet worry blooming in his chest. The way Taehyung didn’t even glance back made his stomach twist.

The hallway lights flickered above them as they stepped into the corridor, and the night outside had settled into a hush.

Taehyung still carried Jungkook’s bag.

The car doors shut with a soft click. The air inside the vehicle was quiet, the kind of quiet that settled like a fragile thread between two hearts, tight and waiting to snap.

Jungkook sat curled up on the passenger seat, the tip of his nose faintly pink. He was looking out the window, even though there wasn’t much to see, just the smear of campus lights against the early evening

Taehyung hadn’t started the engine. He sat behind the wheel, hands still in his lap, jaw clenched. The air conditioning hummed low.

“…Jungkook,” he said, voice quiet, careful, almost too calm. “Can I ask you something?”

Jungkook’s heart skipped. He glanced at him, eyes wide, but nodded. “Y-Yeah.”

Taehyung leaned back against the headrest, exhaling softly. His voice came out low, almost hesitant, an unfamiliar vulnerability tucked beneath his usual cool tone.

“Why were you with Mingyu?” he asked, eyes still trained on the dark windshield ahead. “In an empty classroom.”

Jungkook blinked, lips parting as he sat up straighter. “Oh… that–”

“I’m not–” Taehyung broke in, then paused, lips pressing together. He finally turned his gaze to Jungkook, and his brows were faintly drawn. “I’m not accusing you, okay? I just… I overheard something. And I might’ve misunderstood, but–”

“You did,” He blurted softly, almost too fast. “You misunderstood.”

Taehyung stayed quiet, waiting.

Jungkook looked down at his lap, cheeks warming again. “He just asked me for help… with picking a gift. For a girl. He said I’m good with… cute stuff, so he wanted my opinion. That’s all. He didn’t mean anything weird, I swear.”

Taehyung stared at him for a long moment, his jaw tightening, then relaxing. “I see.”

“He even asked if he could practice… giving the gift to me. Just to test it.” Jungkook fiddled with his fingers, voice small. “I didn’t think it was anything serious. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea…”

Taehyung looked away again, his hand falling from the wheel to rest near the gearshift. “I did get the wrong idea,” he murmured. “And it… it pissed me off. I saw you smiling and being all sweet with him, and I know that’s just how you are– but…”

Jungkook turned to him, eyes wide with realization. “You were… jealous?”

Taehyung didn’t answer right away.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the wheel, eyes closed for a moment.

Jungkook bit his lip. “You… you didn’t think anything weird, did you?”

Taehyung finally turned his head, meeting his eyes. “What was I supposed to think, Jungkook?”

“That you trusted me?” The words came out softer than intended, nearly a whisper. “That you knew I’d never do anything to hurt you?”

A pause. Taehyung’s shoulders dropped, tension bleeding out with a long sigh. “I do trust you. I trust you more than I trust myself sometimes,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “That’s why it scares the hell out of me when I walk in and see you like that with someone else. Even if it’s harmless. Even if I’m being stupid.”

Jungkook's eyes welled with sudden emotion. He reached across the console and gently placed his hand over Taehyung’s. “You’re not stupid,” he said. “You’re just… in love. Like I am.”

Taehyung blinked. The words hit deeper than he expected. His fingers slowly turned, intertwining with Jungkook’s.

“I hate that I act– like this sometimes,” Taehyung confessed. “Especially when we’re not alone. It’s like– I want to protect how much I care about you. Keep it hidden. But I know it hurts you.”

Jungkook shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt. Not really. I get it. You’re you. And I love you like that.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Taehyung leaned in, eyes dark and sincere. “I hated seeing you with someone else. Even if it was nothing. It made me feel… possessive. Stupidly.”

“You’re not stupid,” Jungkook said again, more firmly this time. “You’re just mine...”

That made Taehyung still. Then, with a low, breathless chuckle, he cupped the back of Jungkook’s neck and pulled him in. Their lips met, soft at first, like a sigh, like forgiveness.

Jungkook melted immediately, hand fisting Taehyung’s coat. His sleeve slipped back as he reached to touch Taehyung’s jaw, thumb brushing over the stubble there. Taehyung tilted his head, deepening the kiss slowly, deliberately. His hand splayed over Jungkook’s waist, drawing him closer, until the console wasn’t enough distance anymore.

Jungkook gasped into the kiss when their mouths parted only to reconnect again, wetter, needier. Taehyung swallowed every sound, every shaky breath Jungkook gave him, like a man starving.

The windows began to fog from their shared heat.

“I don’t want anyone else touching you,” Taehyung murmured against Jungkook’s lips. “Not even in a joke. Not even for practice.”

Jungkook nodded, dazed, panting softly. “No one else can. Only you.”

Taehyung’s lips twitched into a rare smile, the kind reserved just for him.

They kissed again, slower this time, just holding each other like time had stilled.

The car was quiet, save for the faint hum of the engine and the soft patter of evening rain against the windshield. The world outside blurred in a haze of streetlights and wet reflections.

Taehyung sat back in the driver’s seat, thumb brushing slowly over the inside of Jungkook’s wrist where he still held his hand. The kiss had faded minutes ago, but the echo of it still clung to both their lips, warm, unspoken.

He sat curled beside him in the passenger seat, sleeves pulled over his hands, his knees together, posture shrunken like he wanted to disappear. His heart was pounding. The kiss they shared earlier had left his lips tingling, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet Taehyung’s gaze.

Then Taehyung exhaled, low and quiet.

“…Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me all day?”

Jungkook stiffened. His fingers curled into the sleeves of his sweater. He didn’t respond right away, chest rising and falling with hesitation.

Taehyung glanced over at him, brows slightly furrowed. “Jungkook.”

“I–I wasn’t avoiding you,” Jungkook mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

“You literally ran off when I walked in,” Taehyung pointed out, softer now. “You couldn’t even look at me.”

His face burned, the color crawling all the way to his ears. “I… I didn’t know how to act…”

Taehyung tilted his head slightly, suspicion rising. “Why?”

“I…” Jungkook swallowed hard, his eyes locked on his lap. His voice grew even smaller. “I… I did something. A-and I didn’t know if I should tell you…”

Taehyung blinked. “You didn’t do anything wrong, right?”

Jungkook's hands trembled slightly as he pressed them between his knees. “N-not like that. I… just…” He peeked up at Taehyung for half a second before instantly darting his gaze away again. “…I Um– touched myself...”

Taehyung froze.

“…You–” he choked slightly, voice cracking faintly, “You what?”

“I-I touched myself,” Jungkook repeated, so softly it was almost inaudible. “Like… y’know… d-down there…”

Taehyung visibly stiffened, ears turning pink as he turned to stare out the windshield. “O-Okay. Okay. Um.”

Jungkook, horrified by the silence, panicked. “I-I swear it wasn’t on purpose at first! I was just… I saw something on my phone by accident, and I got curious and started reading more about it– then over the next few weeks I-I kept looking things up and then one night I just…”

He buried his face in his hands. “I just wanted to know what it felt like.”

Taehyung’s ears were still flushed, and he cleared his throat quietly, gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. “And… and you were thinking about me...?”

Jungkook gave a tiny, desperate nod behind his hands.

Taehyung’s neck turned red. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked away. Then quietly muttered, “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry…” Jungkook whispered.

“No– no, baby,” Taehyung said too quickly, stumbling over the word like it had jumped out of him. “It’s okay. I’m not mad. I just… wow. You just said that. Out loud.”

Jungkook peeked up through his fingers, utterly humiliated. “You’re not mad?”

“No! No,” Taehyung repeated, then rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he might combust. “God, no. It’s just– I didn’t expect you to say that. I mean. You. Sweet, soft… Jungkook. My Jungkook. Doing… that.” His voice dropped to a rasp as he slumped slightly in his seat. “You’re killing me.”

Jungkook flushed all over again. “I-I just didn’t know what to do after. I felt too shy to face you.”

Taehyung let out a strangled noise and covered his face with one hand. “You have no idea what you do to me.” A beat of silence. Then he turned his head just slightly, peeking at Jungkook from the corner of his eye.

“…Was it… good...?”

Jungkook’s whole body tensed. “T-tae!”

“What?” Taehyung muttered, his voice thin with nerves but honest. “You can’t just drop that on me and expect me not to wonder!”

“I don’t know! I-It felt… weird at first,” Jungkook admitted quietly. “But then it started feeling… nice. Really nice.”

Taehyung’s hand twitched on the wheel. “…I’m gonna crash this car right now.”

“Hyung!”

“I’m kidding,” he groaned, hiding his eyes again. “Mostly.”

Jungkook couldn’t help it, he giggled, still blushing. And then, slowly, he reached for Taehyung’s hand on the center console.

Taehyung looked at him, finally. Eyes dark and warm. His lips parted, about to say something else, but he hesitated. Then he breathed out and leaned in, just enough to press a gentle, lingering kiss to Jungkook’s cheek.

“…Thank you for telling me,” he murmured. “I know it was hard.”

“I just didn’t wanna lie to you,” Jungkook whispered. “Or make you think I was weird.”

“You’re not weird.” Taehyung squeezed his hand.

Jungkook melted in place.

The quiet purr of the engine blended with the soft rustle of wind gliding past the car. The city lights outside blinked and blurred as Taehyung drove, one hand loosely on the steering wheel, the other still warm from holding Jungkook’s just moments ago. The cabin of the car was calm, dimly lit, filled with the faint scent of Taehyung’s cologne.

Jungkook sat quietly, His cheeks were still flushed, and he kept sneaking glances at Taehyung, lips parted like he was on the verge of saying something… but kept stopping himself.

Taehyung noticed.

Without taking his eyes off the road, his voice broke through the silence, deep and measured. “We don’t have class tomorrow.”

Jungkook blinked, hands fiddling in his lap. “R-Right…”

A long pause settled again. The red light ahead cast a soft glow across Taehyung’s face, highlighting his jaw, the faint furrow of his brows, the twitch of hesitation in his fingers.

Then, voice quiet but steady, Taehyung spoke again. “You wanna stay over?”

Jungkook’s breath caught. He turned to look at Taehyung fully now, eyes wide, heart skipping a beat. “S-Stay over…?”

Taehyung let out a soft breath, his fingers tapping once against the steering wheel. “Yeah. Just... if you want to.” His tone was carefully neutral, too carefully. But there was a softness to the way he said it, like a window slightly opened to let warmth in.

“I–” Jungkook’s voice faltered. He looked down at his lap, face burning, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He swallowed hard and nodded slowly, still not meeting Taehyung’s eyes. “I do… I want to.”

Taehyung’s lips quirked just slightly. He didn’t turn his head, but Jungkook caught the tiniest smile reflected in the glass of the driver-side window.

“You’re not just saying that ‘cause I asked, right?” Taehyung said, a trace of teasing creeping into his voice.

Jungkook flushed deeper. “N-No! I really want to.”

A soft chuckle escaped Taehyung’s lips, and the sound sent Jungkook’s heart fluttering. “Okay, baby.” he murmured, barely audible over the engine’s hum.

Jungkook’s breath hitched at the nickname, and he turned to look out the window instead, hiding his grin behind the collar of his sweater.

They drove in silence for a while, soft music now playing from the radio, jazz, mellow beats that matched the rhythm of the night. The car’s headlights cut through the dark streets gently as they neared Taehyung’s neighborhood.

Taehyung reached over at a stoplight, resting a hand lightly on Jungkook’s thigh. “You hungry? We can pass by the convenience store.”

He looked at him shyly, lips twitching. “Only if we get banana milk…”

“Of course,” Taehyung replied with a faint scoff, turning back to the road as the light turned green. “Anything you want.”

Jungkook tucked his chin into his shoulder, hiding a smile that wouldn’t go away. The warmth in his chest swelled quietly, a mix of safety and softness.

And with Taehyung beside him, his hand occasionally drifting to brush his knee or adjust the heater, it felt like the night might stretch on forever, in the most perfect way.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The ride back to Taehyung’s house was mostly quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional plastic crinkle from the convenience store bags in the backseat.

Jungkook's gaze flickered to Taehyung’s profile every few seconds, at his fingers wrapped around the wheel, at the quiet line of his mouth, unreadable but familiar.

Taehyung kept his eyes on the road, brows faintly furrowed in thought. “…You good?” he asked, voice low and even. Not distant, just quiet.

Jungkook nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Taehyung said casually, adjusting the volume knob down a little as soft jazz played from the stereo.

“I-I don’t mind talking,” he murmured, cheeks flushed.

Taehyung gave a faint hum in response, but didn’t press further.

By the time they pulled into his driveway, the street was hushed under the soft drizzle of misty rain, painting the sidewalk a slick gray. The lights inside the house were off, and everything looked just as Taehyung had left it. He parked, shifted gears, then leaned back slightly.

“I didn’t leave the porch light on,” he said, more to himself than anyone.

Jungkook blinked. “Maybe it just… turned on?”

“Maybe.” Taehyung opened his door with a click and walked around the front of the car without urgency. He opened the passenger door, waiting. “Come on.”

Jungkook stepped out quietly, the bag of snacks held against his chest. Their shoulders brushed as they walked to the porch.

Taehyung reached into his coat pocket, fishing for his keys, but before he could pull them out, the door creaked open on its own.

They both froze.

A woman stood in the warm, yellow light of the doorway, elegant, composed, with eyes that looked just like Taehyung’s. Her robe hung loosely over soft knitwear, and her hair was pulled into a simple bun.

“Tae?” she said in surprise.

“…Mom?”

Mrs. Kim smiled. “You didn’t get my message. I came home early. My phone died at the airport.”
Taehyung blinked. “Didn’t see any message.”

Her eyes landed on Jungkook next, and softened immediately. “Oh? And who’s this?”

Jungkook bowed deep, panicking slightly. “G-Good evening, –uh, I mean, ma’am– Mrs. Kim.”

Taehyung straightened up beside him. “That’s Jungkook. He’s… my uh...”

Mrs. Kim raised a brow, amused. “Your what?”

Taehyung exhaled through his nose. “Boyfriend.”

Jungkook squeaked.

Mrs. Kim beamed and stepped aside. “Well, come in then. It’s too cold to be having this conversation on the porch.”

Inside, the house was warm and calm. Jungkook immediately began removing his shoes, trying not to trip over himself while balancing the food. He followed Taehyung quietly into the kitchen, heart thudding.

Mrs. Kim padded in behind them, watching Jungkook with affectionate curiosity. “What did you boys bring?”

“Snacks,” Taehyung replied shortly, placing the bags on the counter. “We were gonna stay in.”

Jungkook nodded, whispering to the older boy, “I told Namjoon hyung already… that I was staying here.”

Mrs. Kim smiled and handed him a towel from a nearby hook. “Dry your hair, sweetheart. You’ll catch a cold.”

Jungkook bowed again, flustered. “Th-Thank you…”

Taehyung said nothing, but watched the exchange quietly, eyes lingering on Jungkook’s soft profile as he dabbed at his damp fringe.

“I’ll leave you boys to it,” Mrs. Kim said, already heading upstairs. “I’ll be gone most of tomorrow anyway. Don’t stay up too late.”
Once her door shut, silence settled.

Jungkook giggled shyly. “She’s really nice…”

“She’s nosey,” Taehyung replied flatly, but without malice. “Bet she starts asking questions in the morning.”

“She… she called me sweetheart,” Jungkook said quietly, still holding the towel.

“She does that,” Taehyung murmured, looking down at the counter. “Means she likes you.”

Jungkook peeked up at him. “D-Do you…?”

Taehyung glanced up, eyes locking with his. He paused, and then said, evenly, “What kind of question is that? Obviously.” Then he tilts his head a little. “Eat. I’ll warm the milk.”

They sat down together with their small meal, a couple of convenience store ramyeon cups, honey milk, and shrimp chips between them. It wasn’t much. But in the hush of the kitchen, with warmth filling the room and their knees brushing beneath the table, it felt like enough.

And though Taehyung barely smiled, his eyes never really left Jungkook.

Taehyung flicked on the lamp beside his bed, warm light pooling across his dark blue sheets and soft wooden floorboards. The room was clean, calm. A faint scent of linen and cedar hung in the air, familiar and grounding.

Jungkook padded inside behind him, barefoot and dressed in one of Taehyung’s oversized graphic tees and a pair of drawstring shorts that hung a little loose on his hips.

“Is it okay if I wear this one?” Jungkook asked softly, tugging at the hem of the shirt.

Taehyung glanced over and immediately looked away. “…Yeah,” he murmured. “Looks better on you anyway.”

Jungkook flushed and tucked his chin down, rubbing the back of his neck.

Taehyung busied himself with rearranging a pillow that didn’t need rearranging. His fingers lingered a little longer on it than necessary.

When he turned back around, Jungkook was already curled up cross-legged in the middle of the bed, sleeves too long, the collar of the shirt sliding slightly off one shoulder. He looked small, sweet, and impossibly at home, like he belonged there. Taehyung stared for a second too long, then walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, facing away, trying to school his expression into something less obvious.

Jungkook played with a loose thread on the hem of the shirt, then looked up through his lashes. “…Can I ask you something?” he whispered.

Taehyung nodded without turning.

“Back when… I didn’t know it was you leaving the letters. I saw some crumpled ones under your drawer. I didn’t mean to pry, I was just… I was looking around. I didn’t understand them at the time.”
Taehyung stilled.

Jungkook’s voice softened even more. “They were really pretty. Even if I didn’t know what they meant back then.”

Taehyung exhaled through his nose. “Should’ve thrown them out.”

“No,” he said gently, crawling closer until he sat beside him. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

Taehyung finally turned to look at him, his expression guarded, but his eyes softening at the edges. “I didn’t think they were good enough,” he said after a beat, voice low. “Too messy. Too… cheesy .”

Jungkook tilted his head. “I would’ve loved them.”

A beat passed. Then another.

“…You still want to read them?” Taehyung asked quietly.

Jungkook nodded, fingers curling in his lap. “Only if… if you’re okay with it.”

Taehyung hesitated, then stood and walked over to his desk. He opened the second drawer slowly and pulled out a small bundle of folded, creased pages held together by a thin string. He ended up keeping some of the discarded letters–

He walked back and placed them gently on the bed between them. “They’re not perfect,” he mumbled. “And some of them are kinda dumb.”

Jungkook smiled, already reaching out to gently pick one up.

“They’re yours,” he said sweetly. “So I’ll probably love all of them.”

Taehyung looked at him, his oversized shirt practically swallowing Jungkook up, moonlight beginning to pour through the window behind him, making his skin glow, and something in him clenched softly.

He wasn’t used to this. To being seen so gently. “…Don’t cry or anything,” he muttered.

Jungkook laughed, light and breathy. “I might.”

Taehyung clicked his tongue but didn’t argue.

They sat side by side on the bed, the papers rustling gently as Jungkook read, mouth occasionally twitching into a smile, cheeks warm, eyes glimmering under the soft light. Taehyung watched him quietly, like he was still trying to convince himself this moment was real.

As the letters now lay in a small pile at the foot of the bed, soft corners creased with the memory of Jungkook’s fingers.

Taehyung sat propped up against the headboard, one arm tucked behind his head, pretending not to glance at Jungkook every other second. He’d been quiet the whole time Jungkook read, watching, listening to the tiny sounds of giggles or quiet sighs, trying not to squirm when Jungkook said something like, “This one’s my favorite… It’s so pretty, Tae.”

Now, Jungkook had scooted closer again, his side pressed to Taehyung’s, his arms snaking around Taehyung’s waist without a word.

“…You okay?” Taehyung asked, voice low, eyes flicking down at the top of Jungkook’s head now resting against his shoulder.

He nodded shyly, burying his face against the soft fabric of Taehyung’s shirt. “Mhm. Just wanna stay like this…”

Taehyung’s throat bobbed. He could feel the weight of Jungkook against him, small and warm and clinging like a sleepy koala. His fingers hovered awkwardly in the air before finally settling on Jungkook’s side, unsure, still not used to this kind of affection even if he wanted it– badly.

“…You’re so clingy,” he mumbled, but the words came out gentler than he meant, barely hiding the fondness in them.

Jungkook just hummed and tightened his hold, arms wrapped snug around Taehyung’s middle. “Only with you…”

That made Taehyung’s ears go pink.

He cleared his throat and shifted slightly to get more comfortable, but in the process, his elbow swung back a little harder than he realized, and jabbed right into Jungkook’s chest.

“Ah–!” Jungkook yelped softly, flinching as he pulled back, hands flying to his chest instinctively. “O-Ow…”

Taehyung immediately froze, eyes widening. “What the– wait, did I– did I hit you? Shit.”

Jungkook’s face was already flushed deep pink, hands still over his chest as he squirmed where he sat. “You elbowed me–! That really hurt…”

Taehyung panicked.

“I didn’t mean to–! I wasn’t– fuck, I wasn’t thinking, okay?! Why didn’t you– God– are you okay?” His voice pitched slightly higher as he leaned forward, trying to get a better look but also very clearly not knowing where he was supposed to look anymore.

Jungkook whimpered quietly and nodded, still red. “It’s just… sensitive…”

Taehyung’s whole body locked up. “O-Okay, well– obviously– I mean, I didn’t do it on purpose, you know?!” he stammered, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Why were you even– why didn’t you warn me or something?!”

Jungkook blinked up at him with big, watery eyes. “How was I supposed to warn you about your elbow?”

“…Okay, fair.”

Taehyung paused, then awkwardly reached out, his hand hovering over Jungkook’s arm before settling on his wrist gently. “You’re not bruised or anything, right?” he mumbled, glancing to the side.

Jungkook shook his head, cheeks still hot. “No… just surprised me.”

Taehyung exhaled, still flustered. “…Sorry, baby.”

Jungkook blinked, the word making his eyes widen just a little. “You said it again,” he whispered shyly.

Taehyung cleared his throat again and looked away. “I say it sometimes. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

Jungkook smiled, tiny and pink, and leaned forward again, tucking himself back against Taehyung’s side. “…It’s okay,” he whispered. “I liked it.”

Taehyung let his arm slip around Jungkook’s shoulders, pulling him in carefully this time. His heartbeat was still all over the place, ears tingling, but he didn’t complain.

Instead, he rested his chin on Jungkook’s head and closed his eyes. “…You’re really something else,” he muttered.

Jungkook just snuggled closer, murmuring with a sleepy hum, “Only for you.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Chapter Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

After breakfast, Mrs. Kim had left with a gentle, knowing smile and a warm “Behave, boys,” as she slipped out the door with her purse in hand. The moment it shut, silence crept through the space like slow-moving fog. Thick, expectant.

Now, the quiet in Taehyung’s room felt almost too intimate. The only sounds were the soft rustle of blankets and the faint hum of the fan overhead, stirring the warm, late-morning air.

Taehyung was on his back, one hand tucked under his head, the other resting listlessly on his stomach. His eyes were open, following the slow spin of the ceiling fan above them. Every now and then, his gaze would flick sideways to the figure curled beside him under the blanket.

Jungkook was silent. Wrapped in Taehyung’s grey hoodie that nearly swallowed him, his cheeks were tinted with a faint pink, nose buried halfway in the fabric. He was curled on his side, legs tucked close, fingers fidgeting restlessly with the hem of the blanket.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung said softly, voice a hushed rumble, a break in the stillness.

Jungkook jumped slightly and peeked up at him, eyes round and blinking.

“You okay?” Taehyung asked, still sounding calm, still watching him carefully. But there was a tension under the surface, like a string pulled taut.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Swallowed. “I… I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Taehyung shifted onto his side, facing him more directly now. “Tell me.”

Jungkook’s eyes darted down. He was quiet for a beat longer, then he murmured, “I’ve just… been thinking.”

“About?” Taehyung pressed gently, brows tugging together.

Jungkook gripped the sleeve cuffs tighter in his hands. “About last night. In your car. When I said I was thinking about you... when I, y’know…” His voice trailed off, ears turning a deep shade of red. “I didn’t mean to just blurt it out. But I… I really meant it.”

Taehyung blinked. The air stilled.

His heart gave a sharp thud in his chest, but his face remained composed, if not slightly more focused, eyes soft, voice low. “Yeah?”

Jungkook nodded shyly, not looking at him. “I think about you all the time. I think about us. I… I wanna be close to you, Taehyung-hyung. I really do.”

Taehyung exhaled slowly. “I wanna be close to you too,” he said gently, almost too gently. “You know I do.”

There was a long pause.

Then Jungkook shifted closer, barely brushing his knee to Taehyung’s under the blanket. He peeked up at him with trembling lashes.

“I want to kiss you again,” he admitted, barely audible.

Taehyung moved slowly, always carefully with Jungkook, like he was something precious and breakable. He reached up to cup the younger’s cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin under his eye. “Then come here, baby,” he murmured, voice just as shaky now.

Their lips met in the quiet, a soft and delicate press that deepened gradually. Jungkook let out a small sigh against his mouth, trembling slightly as he reached up to hold onto Taehyung’s shirt..

Taehyung kissed him deeper, slow and sweet, like a melody only they knew. His fingers moved down, resting lightly on Jungkook’s waist over the hoodie. He didn’t grip or tug, he simply held him there, warm and steady.

Jungkook clung a little harder. When Taehyung shifted to pull him even closer, their legs tangled under the covers.

And then Taehyung stopped. He pulled back just an inch, panting slightly, his nose brushing Jungkook’s. “...I don’t wanna rush anything,” he murmured, voice husky but full of restraint. “I wanna take things slow. You deserve that.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched. His hands trembled as they clutched at the fabric of Taehyung’s hoodie tighter. “Tae…” he whispered, voice almost breaking. “You’re not rushing me. I want this. I want… I want you.”

Taehyung’s heart squeezed in his chest.

Jungkook looked up at him with glistening eyes, flushed and earnest. His voice came again, even quieter this time. “Y-You can touch me, if you want. I– I trust you.”

Taehyung froze.

“Baby,” he breathed, stunned. “You sure?”

Jungkook gave the tiniest, most bashful nod, cheeks burning bright. “Just… just please be gentle.”

Taehyung swallowed hard. His hand, still resting on Jungkook’s waist, started to move slowly, tentatively. He ran his fingers down the curve of his side, stopping just before his hip, keeping his touch featherlight. “You tell me if anything feels wrong,” he murmured. “Or if you wanna stop.”

Jungkook nodded again, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned forward, nose brushing Taehyung’s cheek.

Then they kissed again, deeper now, slower. Jungkook whimpered quietly into Taehyung’s mouth, tugging at the front of his shirt like he needed something to hold onto. The older’s hands stayed respectful, on his side, his back, up to his shoulder, down again. Just exploring. Holding.

It was quiet in the room, save for the faint rustle of fabric and the occasional catch of breath. Taehyung’s breath hitched as Jungkook leaned in again, their mouths already slick from the soft kisses they’d been exchanging for the past few minutes. They hadn’t said much, words were fragile here, easily lost between parted lips and trembling hands.

The younger whimpered quietly as Taehyung’s fingers brushed the back of his neck, and Taehyung instinctively pulled back. “Was that okay?” he asked, voice low, worried.

Jungkook only nodded, eyes hazy and lips swollen. “Y-Yeah… It’s okay,” he whispered. “I like it when you touch me.”

Taehyung’s throat worked around a swallow. He nodded stiffly, trying to appear unaffected, though his heart was hammering painfully against his chest.

Then, Jungkook shifted forward.

With shaky hands, he placed them on Taehyung’s shoulders and slowly, hesitantly, climbed onto his lap, knees pressing into the bed on either side, his thighs framing Taehyung’s hips.

Taehyung went rigid, eyes wide.

“J-jungkook–”

“I just…” Jungkook interrupted, voice soft, breath warm against Taehyung’s cheek. “I want to be closer.” He settled gently onto Taehyung’s thighs, gasping a little at the contact, and bit his lip shyly when their bodies lined up, warm, firm, and heart-pounding.

Taehyung’s hands hovered mid-air, unsure where to place them.

But Jungkook reached down, delicately, and grabbed Taehyung’s wrists with trembling fingers. “You can touch me,” he whispered, voice small but certain. “Here–” He gently guided Taehyung’s hands to his waist again, right over the fabric of the hoodie he was wearing.

The contact made them both suck in sharp breaths.

Taehyung's hands trembled against Jungkook's waist, and he closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm inside his chest. “Jungkook,” he rasped, “you really– really need to stop doing things like this...”

Jungkook's hands trembled slightly as they rested on Taehyung's shoulders. This was new, uncharted territory. Every brush of their lips, every hesitant touch, sent a shiver down his spine. He leaned into Taehyung, craving the warmth and closeness.

Taehyung's kisses were soft but insistent, and Jungkook found himself melting under the attention. A small moan escaped his lips, a sound that seemed to both embolden and embarrass him. Encouraged because Taehyung seemed to respond with a deeper groan of his own, embarrassed because he was acutely aware of how vulnerable he felt.

As he found his balance, an unexpected thrill shot through him. He tentatively began to grind against Taehyung's thighs, a small, almost imperceptible movement. A wave of sensation washed over him. Beneath his thin shorts and cotton panties, he could feel himself growing increasingly aroused. A wetness was blooming, a secret and thrilling response that he desperately hoped Taehyung wouldn't notice. He bit his lip, trying to control his breathing, the anticipation building with each subtle movement.

Taehyung seemed to be losing himself in the kiss. His hands, which had been resting on Jungkook's waist, his fingers digging in slightly. He tilted Jungkook's head back, deepening the kiss, and then slowly began to trail kisses down his jawline, towards the sensitive skin of his neck.

Jungkook gasped softly as Taehyung's lips found the hollow of his throat. He arched his back slightly, giving Taehyung better access. The sensation was intoxicating, a heady mix of pleasure and nervousness. He could feel Taehyung's warm breath on his skin, and the gentle pressure of his lips sent shivers down his spine.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fully immerse himself in the moment, the secret heat between his legs building with each passing second. He was lost in Taehyung's touch, hoping this moment would last forever. “T-Tae…” he breathed out, barely above a whisper.

Taehyung stilled, lifting his head slightly to check on him. "Too far?”

Jungkook’s eyes were wide and glassy, his lips parted, his cheeks burning. He shook his head quickly, then nodded, then shook it again, clearly flustered. “N-No! I mean… It’s okay. I just… I’m not used to feeling this. It’s… a lot,” he admitted in a soft, shaky voice.

Taehyung softened, brushing a strand of hair from Jungkook’s forehead. “We can stop if you want.”

Jungkook’s hands moved on their own, gripping the front of Taehyung’s shirt tightly as he buried his face in his shoulder. “N-No… please don’t stop,” he murmured, voice muffled but desperate. “I… I like it. It’s j-just… embarrassing…”

Taehyung couldn’t stop the soft chuckle that escaped him, even as his heart thudded at how precious Jungkook looked. “You’re so cute, baby,” he murmured, voice low and fond.

The word made Jungkook’s face turn even redder.

Taehyung leaned in again, kissing him gently, sweet and slow. Jungkook moaned softly into the kiss, and this time he didn’t try to hide it. His body moved instinctively, hips shifting just slightly in Taehyung’s lap as the kiss deepened. A breathy sound escaped him.

“Ah…”

Taehyung’s hands tensed on his waist. “Baby…”

“I– I didn’t mean to– sorry,” Jungkook stammered, burying his face in Taehyung’s neck in embarrassment.

“Don’t apologize,” Taehyung whispered, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “You sound… perfect.”

Jungkook whimpered at that, face hot, breath quickening. “It’s j-just… I feel so much when you touch me like that, Tae…”

Taehyung’s breath caught.

His moans became more frequent, breathier, breaking between kisses and small gasps of pleasure. He nuzzled into Taehyung’s shoulder with a shy groan. “T-Tae, I can’t– mmnh– it feels s-so nice…”

Taehyung held him closer, whispering into his ear, “You can be loud with me. I’ll take care of you.”

The words made Jungkook tremble. “Hyungie…”

And as he subtly rocked his hips down again, soft moans spilling from his lips, Taehyung kissed him through the sound, arms tightening around his trembling frame, holding him like he was something delicate and irreplaceable.

Jungkook’s grip tightened on Taehyung’s shoulders, his nails digging lightly into the fabric of his shirt. "Hyung… it's… too much," he gasped, voice thick with emotion, yet undeniably pleased.

Taehyung tilted Jungkook's head back, met his eyes, and saw the raw vulnerability reflected there. There was a trust in those doe eyes that both humbled and emboldened him. “I’m here. I’ve got you,” Taehyung reassured him, gently wiping a stray tear from Jungkook’s cheek. "Just breathe, baby. Breathe with me." He deepened his own breath, trying to set a rhythm for Jungkook to follow.

He continued to rock his hips gently against Jungkook's, a subtle, comforting motion. He didn’t push, didn’t rush. He wanted Jungkook to feel safe, completely uninhibited. He wanted to give him pleasure, to unravel the tension that coiled within him. And as Jungkook began to settle into the rhythm, his moans turning from hesitant gasps to soft, contented purrs, Taehyung felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him. He wanted to shield Jungkook from everything, to keep him safe and happy forever.

He started to move his hands, exploring the curves of Jungkook’s back, tracing the line of his spine. He felt the shudder that ran through Jungkook at his touch, and a satisfied hum rumbled in his chest.

"Just let go, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Let me take care of you." He knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his bones, that he would do anything for Jungkook, that he would give him anything he asked for.

Taehyung's lips trailed down Jungkook’s cleavage, leaving a path of gentle kisses and soft nips. His hands, still gripping Jungkook's hips, urged him to grind down, pressing their bodies closer. The younger gasped, his head falling back, exposing more of his neck to Tae's exploration.

"Tae..." he breathed, his voice trembling with a mix of arousal and nerves. Taehyung paused, pulling back slightly to look at Kook, his golden eyes dark with desire.

"Can I... touch you?" he asked softly, his hands hovering just below Jungkook's chest.

Jungkook nodded, his cheeks flushing pink.

Taehyung's hands slid up, cupping his breasts through the thin fabric of his hoodie. The younger arched into the touch, a soft moan escaping his lips. Taehyung's thumbs brushed over his hardening nipples, eliciting another gasp.

Taehyung’s thumbs brushed over Jungkook’s hardening nipples with gentle insistence, each movement coaxing another gasp from him. The intimacy between them grew thick and heavy in the quiet room, hearts pounding in tandem. Suddenly, the shrill ring of Jungkook’s phone shattered the moment. Both froze, breath caught mid-exhale.

Jungkook blinked, flustered, fumbling to pull the phone free from beneath the pillow. The screen lit up with Jin’s name flashing insistently. With a sheepish smile, he answered, voice still a little breathless, “H-Hyung? Uh… yeah?”

“We’ve been trying to reach you guys,” Jin said, his voice light but a little worried. “Texts, calls… no answer. Are you free to hang out?”

He glanced at Taehyung, who was watching quietly, expression calm but alert. “Uh, yeah, we’re… um, just at Tae’s house,” He said softly, voice still shy.

“Oh! Didn’t know you were there,” Jin replied, laughing a little. “Cool. Well, if you want to come out later, let me know.”

After ending the call, Jungkook lowered the phone and leaned into Taehyung’s side, shy and still breathless from the interrupted intimacy.

Taehyung looked down at him, the corner of his lips twitching into a rare, small smile. “See? You’re not the only one who’s clingy.” His fingers brushed gently through Jungkook’s hair.

Jungkook’s face pressed against Taehyung’s chest, feeling safe despite the lingering embarrassment. “I just… I don’t want to lose this moment,” he whispered.

Taehyung’s arms wrapped tighter around him, a protective warmth enveloping them both. “We’ve got time,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “No one’s rushing us.”

Later on, Jungkook sat cross-legged, his cheeks still flushed a delicate pink. Every now and then, his fingers would nervously twine the fabric at his sleeves as he stole shy glances at Taehyung.

Taehyung, sitting beside him but giving just enough space, stared down at his own hands, his usual confident mask softened by the lingering awkwardness between them. His heart still thumped from their earlier closeness, the touch, the whispered breaths, but the words to say it all simply wouldn’t come.

“So,” Jungkook began quietly, voice barely above a whisper, “I… I’m glad I stayed.”

Taehyung looked up, eyes meeting Jungkook’s with a flicker of something tender beneath the cool exterior. “Me too,” he murmured, voice low and rough.

They shared a small smile, the kind that spoke volumes without needing many words. For a moment, silence settled comfortably, filled only by the soft rustling of fabric and the distant chirping of birds outside.

Jungkook shifted slightly, inching closer until his knee brushed Taehyung’s. The contact was electric, warmth spreading like wildfire, a shy but unmistakable invitation.

Taehyung’s breath hitched, and without breaking eye contact, he reached out hesitantly, his fingers gently brushing Jungkook’s hand. Jungkook’s pulse quickened, and his lips parted in a quiet, surprised breath.

Their hands intertwined, fingers curling together like puzzle pieces finally fitting. The tension between them softened into a sweet, nervous calm.

“What do you want to do?” Taehyung asked, voice low and sincere.

Jungkook’s shy smile turned playful. “Maybe just… watch a movie? Or listen to some music?”

Taehyung nodded, relieved by the simplicity. He grabbed his phone and scrolled through his playlist while Jungkook leaned against his shoulder, head resting lightly.

As the music filled the room, soft, slow melodies that matched their tentative mood, they let themselves relax. Jungkook’s breathing slowed, and Taehyung’s arm wrapped gently around him, a quiet promise of comfort and care.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jungkook had nervously sent Jin a message earlier that day, asking if he was free to hang out. Jin, always the reliable hyung, quickly agreed, and soon they found themselves sitting comfortably in Jin’s cozy living room. The soft hum of the city outside mixed with the quiet clatter of cups as Jin poured them tea.

They talked about everything and nothing, university, music, but after a while, Jungkook’s thoughts kept drifting to the question he’d been turning over in his mind for weeks. Heart pounding, he finally took a breath and leaned slightly closer.

Finally, he swallowed and forced himself to meet Jin’s steady gaze.

“Hyung...” Jungkook’s voice was barely above a breath, his cheeks coloring like fresh petals. “Can I ask you something... kind of... personal?”

Jin’s expression softened immediately, a small, encouraging smile lifting his lips. “Of course, Koo. You can ask me anything.”

Jungkook took a shaky breath, clutching his hands tighter to keep from fidgeting. “It’s about... um... sex. I don’t really know much... and I’m kind of scared, I guess. But also... curious. How do you know when you’re ready? Or what it’s supposed to feel like?” His words spilled out in a rush, raw and unfiltered. Jin’s eyes didn’t waver, they were full of kindness and understanding.

“Hey,” Jin said softly, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder with a reassuring warmth. “It’s totally okay to feel scared and curious. You’re not alone in that. Nobody really has all the answers, and there’s no perfect time or way to ‘know’ exactly.”

Jungkook’s breathing evened out slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit.

“What matters most,” The older boy continued gently, “is that it’s with someone you trust, someone who respects you. And you should always feel safe, physically, emotionally, everything. If anything ever makes you uncomfortable, it’s okay to say no or stop.”

Jungkook nodded slowly, absorbing Jin’s words like a soothing balm. “I just... I want it to mean something. Not just be something... to do,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper now.

“That’s a good feeling to have,” Jin said, smiling warmly. “It means you care. And when the time comes, it’ll be because you want it, not because you have to. There’s no rush, no pressure.”

Jungkook smiled back, shy but grateful, feeling a little less overwhelmed. For once, the knot of confusion in his chest loosened, replaced by a flicker of hope.

“Thank you, hyung,” he said softly, voice thick with relief.

Jin’s smile deepened. “Anytime, baby. You can always come to me, no matter what.”

Jin leaned back against the couch, stretching his arms lazily with a satisfied sigh after their heartfelt talk. But after a few beats of silence, he tilted his head and looked at Jungkook with a faint glint in his eye. “Can I ask something now?” he said, voice casual but unmistakably curious.

Jungkook blinked and nodded, his lips still pressed into a nervous little pout.

“Why me?” Jin asked, his tone still gentle, but now laced with a knowing warmth. “Why come to me and not, like... Jimin or probably your brother?”

Jungkook fiddled with the loose thread at the hem of his shirt, cheeks already burning. “Because... I dunno. You feel safe. You’re not too serious about everything like Namjoon-hyung, and you won’t tease me too much like Jimin-hyung would... You’re just... you.” He peeked up at Jin. “And I trust you. Not that I don’t trust them but–”

For a moment, Jin didn’t say anything. His heart softened at the confession, something about Jungkook’s shy vulnerability always tugged at a protective part of him. But then, true to form, his mouth quirked up into a grin.

“So,” he drawled, leaning in with mock-seriousness, “you’ve been thinking about sex... for about a month now?”

Jungkook nearly choked. “Hyung!”

“Oh my god,” Jin gasped, throwing himself back dramatically like he’d just been hit by divine revelation. “You’ve been fantasizing about your boyfriend! Is this why you always go quiet when someone mentions lips or thighs?”

“Hyung, please–” Jungkook was a mess of stuttered protests and burning ears.

“No wonder you’ve been looking so flustered all the time! I thought it was just your usual Jungkookie charm. But no– our baby is growing up,” Jin teased, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. “Tell me, was it a slow realization or did he smirk at you one day and your entire existence collapsed?”

Jungkook groaned and covered his face with both hands, mumbling through his fingers. “You’re so mean...”

Jin laughed, loud and proud. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Okay, real question, when the time comes... are you planning to surprise him?”

“I–I haven’t thought that far yet,” Jungkook mumbled, peeking out from between his fingers.

“Well, when you do...” Jin leaned in like he was sharing a royal secret. “Consider lace panties.”

Jungkook audibly gasped, his head snapping toward Jin in horror. “Hyung!”

Jin grinned wickedly. “What? You’d look adorable in them. Taehyung would probably combust.”

“Stop talking,” Jungkook whined, face crimson, burying himself in the couch cushions like he could disappear completely.

But under the teasing, Jin’s gaze was warm, proud. He reached over and ruffled Jungkook’s hair with a fond smile. “I’m proud of you, Koo. It’s brave to ask these things. And don’t worry, when the time comes, you’ll know what feels right.”

Jungkook peeked up at him again, lips curved into a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, hyung. Even if you’re kind of evil sometimes.”

The older boy just snorted. The audacity.

Meanwhile, It was late afternoon when Jimin found himself sprawled out across his bed, legs tangled in a blanket, scrolling lazily through his phone. The soft hum of a playlist drifted in the background when a knock sounded on his door, followed by the familiar creak of it opening.

He looked up from his phone, already suspecting who it might be. “Yeah?”

The door creaked open and Taehyung leaned in, hands buried in the pocket of his oversized hoodie, eyes unreadable beneath the fall of his bangs. “You busy?” he asked coolly, voice low and even.

Jimin raised a brow. “You planning to ask that before coming in next time or…?”

Taehyung didn’t answer,just stepped inside with slow, measured steps and flopped onto the bean bag by Jimin’s bed like he hadn’t been thinking about it for an hour.

Jimin narrowed his eyes. “Okay. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

A pause.

Then, in a voice too casual to not mean something, Taehyung murmured, “Do you think it’s... weird? Wanting to take things further with someone. But, like... not wanting to rush them either.”

Jimin’s brows shot up, eyes instantly sparkling with curiosity. “Are we talking about Jungkook, your boyfriend?”

Taehyung’s eyes flicked to the side. “Don’t make it weird.”

“You’re making it weird. I’m just asking.”

Taehyung sighed, resting his head back against the wall. “He’s just... He’s shy. And nervous. And turns into a tomato when I so much as look at him for too long.”

Jimin snorted. “So basically he’s adorable and you’re whipped.”

“I’m not whipped,” Taehyung said flatly, eyes narrowing. “I just… think about it sometimes. That’s all.”

“Mhm.”

“Not just the physical stuff,” Taehyung added quickly, his voice quieter now. “Just... I want to be closer to him. All the way. But he’s still figuring things out. I don’t wanna push.”

Jimin leaned on his elbows, eyes gentle now. “So don’t push. Just talk to him. If you’re thinking about it, maybe he is too.”

Taehyung didn’t respond right away. His fingers twitched on his sleeve, a subtle tell. After a beat, he muttered, “He gets all fidgety around me lately. Like he wants to say something but then backs out.”

“Maybe he’s trying to bring it up,” Jimin offered. “You’re kinda intimidating, you know.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “I’m literally a human sloth around him.”

“Yeah, a hot sloth. Who’s also his boyfriend.”

That earned Jimin a balled-up hoodie string flung at his face.

“Look,” Jimin said, laughing softly. “If you care, and you do, even if your stubborn ass won’t say it out loud, then he’ll be fine. Just don’t be weird. Be you. Let him come to you if he wants.”

Taehyung sat quiet for a second, eyes focused on the floor, voice low. “...Yeah. Alright.”

Jimin smiled knowingly. “You’re really in love with him, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t even–”

“I said shut up.”

Jimin blinked, then stared at him for a long second. Not with teasing eyes this time, but something softer. Thoughtful. “…You know, you’ve changed,” he said slowly, leaning back on his hands. “Like. A lot.”

Taehyung’s brows furrowed slightly. “What?”

“Don’t act clueless.” Jimin tilted his head, studying his friend with quiet curiosity. “A few months ago you couldn’t even say Jungkook’s name without sounding like he kicked your dog. Now you’re here... asking if it’s too soon to sleep with him.”

Taehyung made a face. “Don’t word it like that.”

“I’m just saying,” Jimin continued, ignoring him. “You used to be all walls and ‘whatever’s’ and brooding stares. But now? You literally came into my house to talk about feelings. Feelings, Tae.”

Taehyung didn’t respond right away. He glanced down at the hoodie string he'd been tugging the whole time, fingers curling around the frayed edge. “I didn’t mean to change anything,” he muttered. “It just… happened.”

Jimin’s voice softened. “You didn’t mean to. But you did. And I think it’s ‘cause of him.”

A beat of silence.

Taehyung shrugged a shoulder, still looking at his hands. “He makes it… easier, I guess.”

“Easier to what?”

“To feel stuff,” he admitted, nearly under his breath. “To say things. Even if it’s... awkward as hell.”

Jimin smiled, fond and impressed. “You used to keep everything locked up so tight. And now? You’re still grumpy as ever, but you’re actually talking about it.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“You’re literally scowling right now.”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” Jimin said with a soft laugh. “But honestly, I like this version of you. Cold and snappy still, sure, but also... real. You’re starting to feel out loud, Tae.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything at first, just pulled his knees up to his chest and stared at the floor for a moment, brows drawn together in thought.

Finally, with a sigh, he murmured, “I think I just don’t wanna lose him. So I’m trying.”

Jimin’s heart clenched a little at that. Taehyung didn’t say things like this. Not out loud. Not often.

But here he was, quiet and awkward and brave in his own way.

Jimin nodded, voice light but sincere. “Trying looks good on you.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “You sound like a Hallmark card.”

“Better than you sounding like a moody indie drama.”

They both laughed then, real, and for a second, the room was warm with something unspoken but understood. Change wasn’t loud. It was slow, and awkward, and sometimes arrived in quiet confessions made in bedrooms between two friends.

And Taehyung, for all his cold fronts and sharp words, was changing.

Because for Jungkook, he wanted to.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The clink of silverware and the low hum of conversation filled the softly lit restaurant, but to Jungkook, the world had narrowed down to the quiet sound of Taehyung’s voice, and the way the light fell against his profile. They’re on a date.

They sat across from each other in a cozy corner booth, tucked just far enough away that it felt like their own little world, safe, but still public enough for Taehyung to maintain his carefully constructed air of composure. He leaned back in his seat with one arm slung over the backrest, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the corner of the linen napkin. His gaze flickered across the table to Jungkook, lingering for just a beat longer than it needed to.

Jungkook was dressed in a flowy purple dress, the hem brushing mid-thigh, paired with a knitted cardigan that slipped off one shoulder when he leaned forward. His hair was pinned back on one side with a hair clip, and his lashes cast tiny shadows on his cheeks every time he blinked.

Taehyung didn’t say anything about how pretty he looked, not outright. But he did push Jungkook’s water glass closer when he noticed it was low, and he quietly shifted the menu to help block the evening sun from hitting Jungkook’s eyes. Subtle, wordless things.

“I didn’t think you’d actually wear the dress I bought you,” Taehyung said lowly, his lips curving into something unreadable. His voice was almost teasing, but not unkind.

Jungkook blushed, fingers tightening around his fork. “You don’t like it?”

A pause. Then, Taehyung shrugged. “I didn’t say that.”

He didn’t say much else after that, but when their food arrived, he carefully set aside the onions from Jungkook’s dish without being asked, placing them onto his own plate. Jungkook noticed. Of course he noticed. They ate slowly, the conversation drifting from classes to music to the stray cat Taehyung sometimes fed near his house. Jungkook laughed when Taehyung quietly admitted he named it “Prince.”

“It’s because he acts like he owns the sidewalk,” Taehyung defended with a small smirk.

“You mean like someone else I know?” Jungkook grinned, nudging his foot against Taehyung’s beneath the table.

Taehyung didn’t respond. He just rolled his eyes and hid the twitch of a smile behind his glass.

But beneath the surface of Jungkook’s gentle laughter and stolen glances, something was fluttering in his chest, a quiet thrill, a secret blooming. Jin’s voice replayed in his mind, teasing but warm, “Well when you do, consider lace panties–”

It had stuck with him. Not because of the lace, but because… he wanted to feel confident. Daring. Wanted to show Taehyung a side of himself that had been curious for months, ever since that night they kissed breathless in the quiet safety of Taehyung’s room.

Now, the idea refused to leave his head.

When they were halfway through their meal, Jungkook reached for his purse, feigning casualness even though his heart was pounding. “I’ll just go to the restroom for a sec,” he mumbled, standing before Taehyung could really look at him.

Taehyung looked up with a faint quirk of a brow. “Don’t get lost.”

“I’m not you,” Jungkook shot back playfully, and that earned a low chuckle from Taehyung, which he tried to disguise as a cough.

Jungkook stepped out of the restaurant, but instead of heading toward the restrooms, he made his way across the street to the boutique he’d been eyeing since they arrived. The sign above the door was painted in delicate gold script, the window filled with lace and satin in shades of blush and ivory.

Inside, it was quiet. Soft instrumental music played overhead, and the air smelled like fresh linen. He hesitated for only a moment before gently asking the saleswoman about… panties.

His face was on fire the whole time.

Eventually, after much deliberation and internal screaming, he chose a pair, white lace with a small satin bow. Delicate. Pretty. Something he didn’t even know he’d want until now.

He paid in a rush and folded the little paper bag neatly into his purse. Then he returned to the restaurant, trying to keep his expression composed even though his hands were still trembling a little.

Taehyung was waiting with his chin resting on one hand, scrolling through his phone. When he noticed Jungkook slipping back into the booth, he looked up and gave him one of those rare, slow looks. “You alright?” he asked, voice low.

Jungkook nodded, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “Yeah… just got a little sidetracked.”

Taehyung hummed, studying him for a second longer than necessary. But he didn’t pry.

Instead, he reached out with his chopsticks and dropped a piece of Jungkook’s favorite fishcake onto his plate. “Eat more,” he muttered.

And Jungkook smiled so brightly, it almost made Taehyung flinch.

As the dinner plates were cleared and the sky outside melted into a deep velvet blue, the flickering glow from the restaurant’s candlelit sconces softened. Jungkook twirled the straw in his glass of iced tea, trying not to fidget as the paper bag in his purse reminded him of its existence with every beat of his heart.

Taehyung, silent beside him now, was staring out the window, his hand casually curled near his mouth. He looked calm, bored, maybe, but Jungkook had learned to read the flickers in his gaze, the subtle way his foot tapped against the floor.

Jungkook broke the quiet first, voice soft. “Did you hear about the project for next week?”

Taehyung turned to him, eyebrow raised. “What project?”

“The one for– uh, Professor Kang’s class,” Jungkook explained, pushing his empty glass a little to the side. “It’s a paired thing. She said she already chose our partners and she'd announce it next time we meet.”

Taehyung blinked. “Oh. That class.” He leaned back again, looking unimpressed. “Great. Forced teamwork.”

Jungkook giggled behind his hand. “Maybe you’ll get Jimin.”

Taehyung scoffed. “I’d drop the class.”

That made Jungkook laugh louder, drawing a glance from a nearby table. He ducked his head, cheeks pink. “But seriously,” he murmured after a beat, poking at the table’s edge. “I kind of hope we get paired.”

Taehyung didn’t reply at first. Just watched him quietly, then said in a low tone, “You’d get too distracted. With me beside you.”

Jungkook looked up, surprised. “But I’m always beside you…?”

Taehyung was sipping from his glass, looking nonchalant. But the tips of his ears were pink.

Jungkook smiled. “You’re the one who gets flustered first,” he whispered.

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. “Try me.”

They stared at each other for a second, the air between them brimming with something playful and electric. Then Jungkook cleared his throat and straightened his cardigan, trying not to grin. “Well… I’ll just pray we get each other, then.”

Taehyung hummed. “If we do… we’re doing it at my place.”

Jungkook blinked. “The project?”

Taehyung smirked faintly, looking away. “Obviously.”

But Jungkook caught the tiniest smile tugging at his lips, and his heart fluttered all the way to his toes.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

It was quiet, just the distant hum of air conditioning and the muffled sound of voices from scattered classrooms. The midday sun filtered through the tall windows lining the corridor, Taehyung walked beside Jungkook, hands in his pockets, his steps slow and composed. He wore his usual all-black outfit with the collar of his jacket slightly turned up, like he couldn’t be bothered to fix it. Jungkook, in contrast, had dressed soft, cream sweater tucked into light slacks.

“I hope we’re paired together,” Jungkook mumbled, clutching the strap of his bag tighter. “It’ll be easier that way.”

Taehyung gave a small hum. “Might not happen.”

Jungkook peeked up at him, lips forming a small pout. “You don’t wanna be my partner?”

“I didn’t say that,” Taehyung replied flatly, eyes forward, tone calm. Then, quieter, “I’d rather work with you than anyone else.”

He blinked, caught off guard, and a soft blush dusted his cheeks. He smiled to himself as they entered the classroom.

Inside, the buzz of chatter dimmed just slightly when the two arrived together. Taehyung kept his gaze neutral, aloof, completely uninterested in everyone else. His presence was quiet but sharp, and no one dared approach. He slid into his usual seat with an air of distance, but when Jungkook sat beside him, his expression softened. A slight lean closer.

Jimin, sitting one seat apart, turned to smirk at them. “Didn’t peg you two as the clingy type.”

Taehyung raised a brow but didn’t bother to respond.

Jungkook flailed slightly, whispering, “We’re not!”

“Right,” Jimin said, winking before looking away.

Inside the classroom, the air was buzzing. Professor Min stood at the front, clipboard in hand.

“As you all know, you’ve been paired up for the upcoming term project,” he announced, scanning the room with his usual disinterest. “I’ve chosen your partners randomly. If you have complaints, keep them to yourselves.”

Jungkook fiddled with the zipper of his bag, nervous energy bubbling under his skin. Taehyung sat next to him, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded but alert.

Names were called.

“Jeon Jungkook and Kim Mingyu.”

Jungkook perked up slightly. Mingyu, a few seats over, sent him a friendly smile and a thumbs-up. Jungkook smiled back, shy but warm.

“And… Kim Taehyung and Bae Yerim.”

Jungkook turned to glance at his boyfriend, who showed no reaction, just gave a small nod, jaw tight.

Once class ended, students began gathering with their partners. Jungkook found himself standing beside Mingyu near the back, flipping open his notebook.

“We could probably start outlining?” Mingyu offered. “If we wanna get ahead a bit.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We can do it at my house? My brother’s usually out late, so it’s pretty quiet.”

“Sounds perfect,” Mingyu grinned. “Tomorrow?”

Jungkook nodded again, glancing over his shoulder, Taehyung stood by the door, waiting. Their eyes met briefly. Jungkook gave him a smile, which Taehyung returned with a subtle lift of his brow.

Meanwhile, across the room, Yerim approached Taehyung with a practiced smile. “I think the library would be best for us,” she said lightly. “There’s that corner near the back, quiet and empty.”

Taehyung shrugged once. “Sure.”

He didn’t offer more, and Yerim hesitated a second before nodding and leaving.

As Jungkook walked over, Mingyu waved him off with a grin. “I’ll text you the outline later!”

“Okay!” Jungkook chirped.

Once they were out of earshot, Taehyung finally spoke. “You’re doing it at your house?”

“Mm-hmm,” Jungkook nodded, glancing up at him. “Just for a few hours tomorrow.”

The older boy didn’t say anything. Just slipped his hand into Jungkook’s as they walked down the hall, fingers curling tight.

“Yerim asked to do it at the library,” he said quietly. “So I said okay.”

“Oh…” Jungkook blinked up at him. “That’s good. Libraries are quiet.”

Taehyung gave a hum of agreement. Then added, “Still prefer your place.”

Jungkook blushed, lips pressing into a tiny smile. “You’ve been there a lot lately…”

Taehyung didn’t look at him, but his thumb brushed against Jungkook’s knuckles gently.

“That’s the point.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jungkook smoothed the hem of his oversized t-shirt as he opened the door to Mingyu, who stood on the porch with a laptop bag slung over his shoulder and a bright grin on his face.

“Hope I’m not too early,” Mingyu said cheerfully, stepping inside as Jungkook nodded and motioned him in.

“You’re fine,” Jungkook replied softly, stepping aside to let him pass. “Namjoon-hyung’s still out, so we can work in the living room.”

The house smelled faintly of fabric softener and green tea. Jungkook led the way to the couch, setting down snacks on the low table, choco pies, banana milk, and a bowl of grapes, just in case.

Mingyu pulled out his notes and laptop, stretch[ing with a small groan. “Alright, let’s knock this out.”

They got to work quickly, laptop screens glowing between them as they began outlining their project. Mingyu typed as Jungkook skimmed articles, quietly highlighting and scribbling notes in his notebook. The rhythm between them was casual, steady, punctuated by the soft sound of the ticking clock and occasional crunch of a snack.

Half an hour in, Jungkook’s phone buzzed beside him.

Taehyungie: Is he there already? [4:23 PM]

Jungkook smiled softly at the screen, fingers tapping back quickly.

Jungkook: Yeah. We’re working on the intro now.

The reply came almost instantly.

Taehyungie: Don’t let him eat all your snacks. [4:23 PM]

Jungkook huffed out a small laugh, glancing up only to find Mingyu looking at him with a curious grin.

“Something funny?”

Jungkook shook his head too quickly, cheeks tinting pink. “Just– Taehyung-hyung. He’s being annoying.”

“Annoying?” Mingyu leaned back on his palms. “That’s cute. He’s checking in on you?”

Jungkook looked down, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve. “I guess. He’s… like that.”

“He’s got that whole brooding boyfriend thing, huh? mysterious, only sweet to you?” He teases the younger.

Jungkook bit his lip, his blush deepening. “He’s not that– He just doesn’t… talk much to others.”

“But he texts you every five minutes?” Mingyu teased.

Jungkook hid half his face behind his sweater sleeve. “He worries.”

Mingyu chuckled. “That’s kind of endearing. You guys seem solid. He ever get jealous?”

There was a beat of silence before Jungkook nodded faintly, smile lingering at the edges of his mouth. “A little. But he won’t admit it.”

“Bet he’s watching the clock right now, counting the minutes I leave.”

Jungkook’s phone buzzed again.

Taehyungie: done at the library. heading home now. [4:30 PM]

Jungkook: Okay hyung. We’re almost done here too. [4:31 PM]

He hesitated, then added,

Jungkook: Do you wanna call later? [4:31 PM]

The reply came after a pause.

Taehyungie: No. I'm coming over. [4:32 PM]

Jungkook’s heart jumped in his chest.

An hour later, Mingyu had packed up his things and slung his bag over his shoulder. They had most of the outline drafted and divided up the remaining sections to work on individually.

“Thanks again for hosting, Kook,” Mingyu said, stepping into the evening dusk just outside the front door. “Tell Taehyung not to worry– I was on my best behavior.”

Jungkook laughed, soft and breathy. “I’ll tell him.”

The moment the door clicked shut, Jungkook let out a long breath and leaned back against it, heart still thudding.

His phone buzzed again.

Taehyungie: Front door. open it. [5:13 PM]

He blinked in surprise and padded barefoot towards the door. Sure enough, Taehyung was standing outside, dark jacket on, hands in his pockets, looking as cool as ever. But his eyes softened the moment Jungkook’s voice crackled through.

“You didn’t have to–”

“Just open it.”

Jungkook smiled to himself as he opened the door.

Seconds later, the door opened to reveal Taehyung, taller and handsome in the fading light, his expression unreadable at first. But then his gaze dropped to Jungkook, who stood there still in his cozy shirt that looked too big on him, the hem barely brushing his thighs, and something warm flickered in his eyes.

“You okay?” Taehyung murmured, stepping in without another word, hand briefly brushing Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook said softly. “We finished most of it.”

Taehyung nodded, glancing at the now-empty table. “Did he eat everything?”

Jungkook giggled. “You’re really worried about the choco pies?”

Taehyung shrugged, pulling Jungkook in gently by the sleeve as he walked past. “I’m more worried about you, idiot.”

Jungkook’s smile widened, shy and full of quiet affection. They sat close together on the couch, not saying much at first. Jungkook leaned into Taehyung’s side, Taehyung's hand resting lightly on Jungkook’s knee.

“You didn’t have to come all the way,” Jungkook murmured.

“I wanted to see you,” Taehyung replied, and it was all he needed to say.

The room had settled into a cozy stillness. The only sound came from the muted ticking of the wall clock and the occasional hush of passing cars outside. Jungkook sat sideways on the couch, knees tucked up and head resting lightly against Taehyung’s shoulder. Taehyung had one arm draped around him, fingers brushing along Jungkook’s wrist absentmindedly

It was the kind of silence that felt easy… but Jungkook’s thoughts weren’t.

He turned his face a little, cheek grazing Taehyung’s jacket. “Did… your project go okay today?”

Taehyung didn’t respond at first. His eyes remained on the floor in front of them, almost unreadable. “It was fine,” he murmured eventually. “Just outlined things. Nothing special.”

“With Yerim?” Jungkook asked, voice a little quieter now. Not accusatory, just curious.

Taehyung’s eyes flicked to him, and he studied Jungkook’s face for a beat too long. “Yeah,” he said simply. “We met at the library. Worked across the table from each other. Didn’t talk much.”

Jungkook nodded, eyes dropping to where their hands rested,his fingers curled slightly, Taehyung’s lazily threaded between them. He took a breath. “She’s kind of… talkative, huh? I saw her ask you something before class.”

Taehyung’s brow arched faintly. “Didn’t notice.”

Jungkook looked up at him then, lips parting like he wanted to ask more, but he hesitated.

Taehyung’s fingers tightened slightly between his. “You worried about something?”

“No, I–” Jungkook sighed, cheeks flushing. “Just wondering how it’s going. I mean, you're always quiet with other people, but she seemed kinda... persistent.”

Taehyung exhaled, leaning his head back against the couch, gaze drifting to the ceiling. “She talks a lot,” he muttered. “But I don’t care. I’m doing the project. That’s it.”

Jungkook nodded slowly, nibbling on the corner of his lip. “Okay.”

There was a long pause. Then, softly, “I don't want you thinking about it too much,” Taehyung added, voice lower now. “Yerim’s just some girl from class.”

Jungkook blinked, looking up at him again.

Taehyung turned his head slightly, finally meeting his eyes with a strange gentleness. “I only talk like this to you, Jungkook.” The words landed heavier than Jungkook expected, threading warmth through his chest. His grip around Taehyung’s fingers tightened subtly.

“…Okay,” Jungkook whispered, and his voice broke slightly on the second syllable.

Taehyung pulled him closer without saying anything more. Just rested his chin on Jungkook’s head, brushing his thumb against the back of Jungkook’s hand. They stayed like that, tangled up in silence that felt less heavy now. There were no more questions left in Jungkook’s mind, only the steady heartbeat he felt against his side, and the way Taehyung never let go.

The next few days passed in soft blurs of sunlight and half-filled notebooks.

Taehyung had been distant, but not in a cruel way. Just... distracted.

Yerim had a habit of catching him between classes, sometimes walking with him down the hallway or talking just a little longer after they finished their group work at the library. She laughed brightly, confidently, and never seemed to notice how Taehyung’s gaze often wandered past her, toward the boy with tousled brown curls a few steps behind.

Jungkook tried not to let it get to him.

He told himself it wasn’t anything. Taehyung wasn’t doing anything wrong. They hadn’t fought. He still messaged Jungkook first thing in the morning and sent sleepy "good night" texts with the softest emoji he’d never use with anyone else.

But still.

Jungkook noticed when Taehyung took longer to reply. When he didn’t show up for lunch because Yerim "just needed five more minutes" to run through her slides. When his chair in their usual corner of the library stayed empty for an hour longer than usual.

And so, Jungkook buried himself in his own project instead.

“Okay,” Mingyu said, tapping his pen against the table. “If we split the research tonight, I can draft our visuals for the presentation tomorrow.”

He nodded, grateful for Mingyu’s calm tone and steady presence. “I’ll do the intro slides and bibliography. I already listed a few sources in the shared folder.”

They were seated in the library's warmest corner, the table near the tall windows dusted with sunlight. Across from them sat Jimin and Hoseok, partners and lucky, working with the same brand of chaotic coordination they used for everything else.

Jimin leaned over his notebook, doodling in the margins. “This project’s easy compared to last semester’s nightmare.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m your partner now,” Hoseok grinned, bumping his shoulder. “You should thank the professor.”

Jimin snorted. “I will. I’ll knit him a sweater that says ‘Hoseok saved me.’”

Jungkook let out a small laugh, thankful for the lightness. It helped. A little.

Mingyu glanced over, chewing the end of his straw thoughtfully. “You okay, Kook?”

“Hm?” Jungkook looked up quickly. “Yeah. Just… a bit tired.” He could feel Jimin glance at him, subtle but perceptive. Jimin didn’t ask. He never did, not when Jungkook looked like he wasn’t ready to talk.

So instead, Jimin smiled softly and held out his pack of cookies. “Want one?”

Jungkook took it with a grateful nod. “Thanks hyung.”

Across the room, laughter broke out, familiar and bright. Yerim’s voice. Jungkook’s head tilted ever so slightly, eyes catching on the sight of her standing next to Taehyung by the reference shelves, holding up a page and gesturing excitedly about something.
Taehyung stood with his hands in his pockets, expression blank. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t pulling away either.

“Don’t look,” Jimin murmured beside him, low enough that only Jungkook heard. “He’s not even paying attention to her.”

“I’m not…” Jungkook began, then shook his head. “It’s okay. I get it.” He lowered his gaze to his notebook, pen poised but unmoving. His fingers curled in slightly.

“Want to take a break?” Hoseok asked, sensing the shift in mood.

Jungkook hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Just a short one.”

They stood and stretched, Jimin looping his arm loosely around Jungkook’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get something warm from the vending machine before the good stuff runs out.”

Mingyu offered him a small smile. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Jungkook glanced back once, just once, and saw Taehyung looking in his direction now, expression soft from across the library. Their eyes met for a second too long before Jungkook looked away, walking quietly down the corridor with Jimin’s arm still around him.

Taehyung on the other hand didn’t say much as Yerim kept speaking.

Something about adjusting the slide transitions and maybe centering the header text better. Her voice was light, a little too cheery for someone who had spent the last ten minutes getting nothing more than a noncommittal hum from her project partner.

“Taehyung?” Yerim asked, tapping the side of her stylus against the desk. “Should we stick with that font or change it to something more readable?”

“That’s fine,” he murmured without looking up.

She paused, hesitant. “You sure? I don’t mind redoing the layout if–”

“I said it’s fine,” he replied, still calm, but there was a definite edge beneath it. Quiet, clipped, cool.

Yerim sat back slightly, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She’d gotten used to Taehyung’s silence over the past few days, but it was… different today. His attention kept drifting, eyes flickering subtly toward the main floor of the library.

His body leaned subtly away. Not so much it’d be obvious, Taehyung was nothing if not composed, but enough that Yerim noticed. She paused for a beat, glancing up at him with a faint pout before continuing anyway.

“You know,” she said quietly, eyes still on the screen, “I can tell you don’t really want to be here.”

There was a pause. Taehyung didn’t look at her. Then, he spoke, calm, clipped. “We just need to get this done.”

“Right,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s all this is, huh?”

He finally turned, meeting her eyes directly. His stare was unreadable, cold, but not cruel. “Yeah. That’s all.”

Yerim tilted her head, smile still lingering. “He’s lucky, you know. Jungkook.”

Taehyung’s expression didn’t change. “I know.”

That made her laugh, a short, breathy thing. “He watches you a lot.”

At that, Taehyung’s eyes flicked sideways, past the bookshelves, toward the nearby table where Jungkook sat with Mingyu, Jimin, and Hoseok.

And sure enough, Jungkook was watching. Not obviously, not constantly, but his gaze would drift, subtle and uncertain, landing on Taehyung for just a second longer than necessary before dropping to his open notebook. He looked tired. Distracted. His fingers fidgeted with the edge of a pen he hadn’t written with in minutes.

Yerim followed Taehyung’s gaze, seeing the same thing. “He’s probably wondering why I’m always with you now,” she said lightly.

Taehyung turned back to her. “So am I.”

It wasn’t cruel, it was just true. Blunt and flat, the way Taehyung always was when he didn’t care to soften the truth. Yerim’s smile faltered for a moment.

“…I like working with you,” she said finally, in a low voice. “Is that so bad?”

Taehyung didn’t answer. He opened the shared project file, scrolled to the unfinished sections, and muttered, “Slide three’s layout is off.”

That was all.

Meanwhile, a few tables away, Jungkook looked up again. His heart squeezed when he saw Yerim lean in, even if Taehyung didn’t react.

He wasn’t jealous. Not really.

But something about the way she smiled at Taehyung, the way her elbow lingered on the desk a little too close to his– something about it stirred a quiet ache in his chest.

Jimin glanced at him from across the table, catching the way Jungkook’s eyes drifted one more time toward Taehyung.

And this time, Taehyung was already looking back.

Their eyes met, just a flicker, quiet and long.

as Jimin, Hoseok, and Jungkook packed their things, the three of them chatting quietly about their project. They moved out into the crisp air together, the buzz of campus life settling around them like a familiar hum.

Jungkook felt the weight of the day settling on his shoulders, a quiet ache nestled behind his ribs. Taehyung had been spending more time with Yerim lately, and while Jungkook trusted him completely, the absence still tugged at his chest. It wasn’t jealousy, not exactly. Just a small, dull sadness wrapped in understanding.

“Let’s get some fresh air,” Hoseok suggested cheerfully, stretching his arms wide. “We’ve been stuck inside too long.”

Jimin nodded, tossing his bag over one shoulder. “Agreed. I need a break from all this.”

Jungkook smiled faintly, following them down the campus path, hands buried deep in his cardigan pockets. Taehyung trailed a few steps behind, his figure calm and unreadable, as always reserved around everyone but Jungkook.

They were halfway to the quad when voices called out ahead.

“Hey! You guys free to hang out later?” Jin’s voice was unmistakably bright as he and Yoongi rounded the corner, catching sight of them.

Jungkook’s heart fluttered at the sight of them, relief mixing with his lingering sadness. “Uh, yeah, I think so,” he said softly, glancing over his shoulder where Taehyung had stopped a moment to adjust his bag.

Yoongi smirked, arms crossed. “Good. We’re thinking Honeybrewed. Be there.”

Jimin grinned and waved, “Count me in.”

Hoseok laughed, “Matcha for me, please!”

Taehyung caught up to the group then, slipping in beside Jungkook, his expression still a little distant but settling as their eyes met briefly.

Jungkook bit his lip, still feeling the quiet weight of Taehyung’s recent distance. But as the others laughed and joked around, he felt the familiar warmth of being beside him, steady and real.

When they passed a tree-lined corner, Taehyung leaned in, just slightly, when he thought no one was looking, and placed a soft, fleeting kiss on Jungkook’s cheek.

Jungkook’s breath caught, warmth blooming across his skin. He didn’t say anything, but a small, shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Taehyung’s eyes flicked away quickly, back to his usual reserved gaze, but the ghost of a smile lingered on his face.

Jungkook squeezed his hand lightly, content in this quiet, stolen moment.

The group’s pace was leisurely as they walked past familiar campus paths, Laughter trailed in the air like perfume, soft, comfortable, and easy. Jin walked ahead with Hoseok, animatedly sharing a story about a failed kitchen experiment that ended in flaming toast and a permanently discolored spatula.

“I told you not to microwave the butter tub!” Hoseok burst into laughter, nudging Jin in the side.

“It said microwave safe! I didn’t know that meant the food and not the container!” Jin shot back, dramatically offended.

Yoongi trailed just a bit behind them, hands in his coat pockets, head slightly tilted as he watched the sidewalk shift under his feet, a quiet smile ghosting his face. Occasionally, he’d glance at Jimin, who walked beside him, fingers brushing ever so slightly.

Honeybrewed came into view down the block, its windows glowing softly, a cozy beacon tucked between buildings. The scent of roasted beans and vanilla met them even before the door swung open.

As they stepped inside, warm air and soft instrumental music wrapped around them. Familiar baristas offered smiles. Their favorite corner table by the windows, worn and nicked from dozens of shared afternoons was miraculously empty.

Jin plopped down dramatically onto the bench. “I’ve missed this place. It’s like our second home.”

“Third,” Yoongi corrected with a smirk. “You spend more time at Hoseok’s than your own place.”

“Touché,” Jin said, wagging a finger before turning to Jungkook. “Koo, come sit next to me. I need to interrogate you about your new haircut.”

Jungkook chuckled shyly and glanced at Taehyung.

Taehyung’s hand briefly found Jungkook’s wrist under the table, warm and grounding, before he let go and moved to the end of the bench seat. “Go ahead,” he said coolly, his voice quiet, as if just for Jungkook.

Jungkook took the seat beside Jin, cheeks a bit pink, heart quietly fluttering.

“So…” Jin leaned in. “How’s life with your prince over there?”

He blinked, then giggled, shaking his head as he lowered his gaze. “He’s… sweet.”

“Sweet?” Jin repeated, incredulous. “Are we talking about the same Taehyung who once glared at me for breathing too loud during exams?”

Jungkook smiled quietly. “Only to me.”

Across the table, Taehyung sat without a word, but the way his eyes softened when they lingered on Jungkook’s smile didn’t go unnoticed by Jimin or Yoongi.

“He’s changing,” Jimin murmured under his breath, tilting his head at Taehyung with a fond smile.

Yoongi hummed in agreement, leaning a little closer. “Or maybe just becoming more himself.”

The group fell into conversation as drinks arrived, Hoseok’s with a mountain of whipped cream, Jin’s carefully stirred until perfect, and Jungkook’s matcha latte warm in his hands.

Taehyung took the seat next to him again after a while, quiet as ever but nearer now, their knees brushing under the table.

As the sunlight faded into early evening beyond the glass, Jungkook stole a glance at him, cheeks warming. Despite the past few strange days, with partners and projects and Yerim’s presence, Taehyung beside him, soft jazz humming, and friends gathered around, was where he felt safest.

And when Taehyung gently leaned in and whispered, “You okay, baby?” so quietly no one else could hear, Jungkook simply nodded, heart fluttering. He was more than okay.

He was his.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Chapter Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jungkook glanced at his phone again, the screen bright against the creeping dusk. 6:00 PM. The time they agreed to meet had long passed. His fingers traced the edge of his pretty skirt nervously, heart fluttering with anticipation that slowly turned cold.

It had been over an hour.

His breath hitched when he checked their chat for the hundredth time,

Taehyungie: “Sorry baby, stuck at the library. Just a bit longer, I swear.” [4:52 PM]

But the minutes dragged on like heavy rain.

Jungkook’s eyes scanned the bustling campus, hoping to catch sight of Taehyung’s familiar figure, hoodie pulled low, expression blank. Yet the benches remained empty, the shadows growing long and lonely.

His lips pressed into a thin line as the hope inside him wilted. He had gotten dressed up, his skirt swaying softly as he paced near the gate, his heart brimming with quiet excitement for their date.

But Taehyung hadn’t come.

Meanwhile, inside the dim library, Taehyung sat across from Yerim, papers scattered around them like fallen leaves. Yerim’s voice was gentle but persistent, lacing questions and comments through their project discussion. She leaned forward, her hand brushing against his arm, her laughter light and teasing.

Taehyung tried to focus on their work, but his mind kept drifting back to Jungkook waiting alone somewhere, wondering if he’d come.

He glanced at his watch: 6:20 PM.

His fingers tapped impatiently on the table. “I need to go,” he muttered, voice clipped but carrying a hint of guilt.

Yerim’s smile faltered for a moment, but she nodded. “Alright. Text me later about the next steps?”

Taehyung stood abruptly, shoving papers into his bag, his heart pounding with urgency.

The sky was a deep shade of purples and blues, the stars just beginning to blink awake as the evening settled over campus. The familiar bench where Taehyung had promised to meet Jungkook sat empty, bathed in the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp.

Taehyung’s footsteps echoed against the pavement, quick and uneven, as he called out with a voice roughened by worry. “Jungkook?”

Silence.

He stopped, heart thudding painfully, scanning every shadow and corner. The bench remained vacant, no warmth, no presence. Just the cool night air brushing past him, carrying the faint rustle of autumn leaves.

His phone buzzed urgently in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw the screen light up with messages.

Koo: “I waited over an hour…” [6:34 PM]
Koo: “I left already.” [6:35 PM]

Taehyung’s breath caught. His jaw tightened, hands clenching into fists. He swallowed hard, the regret settling deep and heavy like a stone pressing on his chest.

I should’ve told him I’d be late… I should’ve–

But there was nothing left to do now except stand in the fading twilight, haunted by the space Jungkook once filled.

Not far away, Jungkook’s feet moved steadily away from the bench, though his mind was anything but calm. His heart hammered painfully against his ribs with every step, a mix of frustration, embarrassment, and sadness swirling inside him. The excitement he’d felt before, wearing that pretty skirt, the shy thrill of their date night, had slowly been replaced by the cold weight of waiting, alone.

An hour… he thought bitterly. An hour and no sign of him.

He had tried to convince himself, over and over, that Taehyung must be caught up with the project. But the quiet gnawing at his chest whispered otherwise. He stopped beneath a flickering streetlamp, the harsh white light exposing the flush on his cheeks, not from the cool air, but from hurt.

Why didn’t he call? Jungkook’s voice barely felt like his own inside his head. Why didn’t he say something?

His fingers trembled as he reached for his phone, scrolling through the messages he had sent, messages that now felt like fragile lifelines thrown into an empty sea.

He pressed his forehead against the cool metal of a nearby pole, eyes squeezed shut. “Maybe… maybe I’m just overthinking,” he whispered to the empty night, voice cracking. “Maybe he had a good reason…”

Far from where Jungkook stood, Taehyung ran a hand through his hair, pacing beneath the same sky. His breath came in short bursts, frustration biting at his tongue. He hated that he was late. Hated that the project with Yerim had swallowed him whole, even after promising Jungkook their date. He hated the way his phone had been silent for so long, too caught up in work to reach out.

Pulling his phone back out, he dialed Jungkook’s number with shaky fingers.

The call went straight to voicemail.

Fuck, he muttered under his breath.

He typed out a quick message: “I’m so sorry, baby. I got caught up, I swear. Please don’t be mad.”

He stared at the screen, waiting for a reply that didn’t come.

Back at the edge of campus, Jungkook’s phone buzzed again. He hesitated, heart pounding, then unlocked the screen. The message was from Taehyung.

His breath hitched, but instead of relief, a knot of embarrassment tightened in his chest.

What's the point? he wondered, cheeks heating with shyness and sadness.

For a moment, he wanted to reply immediately. To tell Taehyung it was okay, that he understood. But the quiet ache of disappointment still weighed on his chest, heavier than any words. He slipped the phone back into his bag, eyes wandering up to the stars beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky.

Jungkook sat alone by the window of the nearly empty bus, chin resting against the side of his palm. His reflection stared back at him in the darkened glass, eyes downcast, lips slightly parted, expression unreadable even to himself.

The warmth of Taehyung’s voice still lingered faintly in his ears from earlier that morning: “I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”

But hours had passed. And he had waited. For so long.

The small picnic box he’d prepared was still inside his bag, unopened, untouched. He had picked strawberries because Taehyung liked them. He’d even worn the light cream jacket Taehyung once said made him look "like a soft little cloud."

But clouds didn’t feel like this.

The bus rattled to a soft halt near the neighborhood entrance. Jungkook stood, quietly thanking the driver, and stepped off into the cool night air. The familiar cracked pavement of their neighborhood was dim under the streetlights, and the house down the lane stood quietly, porch light glowing faintly in the dark. He walked slowly toward it, his footsteps muffled by the gentle brush of fallen leaves against the sidewalk. With each step, the lump in his throat grew heavier.

The front gate creaked as he pushed it open. He made sure to close it gently behind him. The house was dark except for a light on upstairs, probably Namjoon still working. He didn’t want to worry him. Not tonight.

Once inside, he slipped his shoes off and padded across the floor in silence. He didn’t pause, didn’t bother turning on any lights. He just climbed the stairs quietly and headed straight to the bathroom.

The door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, he just stood there.

He unzipped his bag and slowly pulled out the picnic box, placing it down by the sink. It looked so out of place now. He stared at it for a second too long before finally undressing, folding his clothes neatly in a pile, and stepping into the shower. The water was hot, almost too hot, but he didn’t care. He pressed his forehead against the cool tile, water cascading over his back and shoulders, soaking his hair until it clung wet to his cheeks. He let the silence stretch, long and slow, letting the heat sink into his bones like comfort that never quite reached his heart.

And when he finally stepped out and wrapped himself in a towel, his eyes stung, but he didn’t cry.

Not yet.

He dried off quietly, dressed in an oversized shirt and soft shorts, and tiptoed to his room. He sat on the edge of his bed, his damp hair falling into his eyes, and let his fingers curl into the hem of his sleeve. The jacket he wore earlier was folded neatly on his desk. It still smelled like vanilla.

A gentle knock pulled him out of his thoughts.

He blinked and looked up. “Come in.”

The door creaked open, and Namjoon stepped inside, a familiar presence, steady, calm, but serious. He took one look at Jungkook, damp hair, downturned eyes, quiet stillness, and seemed to soften.

“Hey, Kook,” he said gently. “Got a second?”

Jungkook nodded, shifting to give his brother space to sit beside him on the bed.

Namjoon sat down, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely. There was a pause, like he wasn’t sure where to begin. “I got an offer,” he said finally, voice low.

Jungkook blinked. “What kind of offer?”

“A job. Overseas.”

That made Jungkook’s heart still for a second. He turned to face him, confusion flickering in his eyes. “Overseas?”

Namjoon nodded, expression unreadable but gentle. “The Netherlands. It’s… a big opportunity. And honestly? It’s something I’ve worked toward for a while.”

Jungkook stared at him, breath caught in his throat.

“But,” Namjoon added, looking at him now, really looking. “It’s not just about me.”

Silence. The kind that made Jungkook’s chest feel tight.

Namjoon continued, voice softer. “You’re still in university. You have friends here. You have… Taehyung.”

At the mention of his boyfriend’s name, Jungkook’s shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly.

“I wouldn’t even consider leaving if you weren’t coming with me,” Namjoon said. “But without Mom and Dad… I’m responsible for you. And I can’t just pack up and go and leave you behind.”

Jungkook didn’t know what to say. The room felt smaller. Like the words were pressing against the walls.

Namjoon placed a hand gently on his knee. “I wanted to tell you first. Let you sit with it. Nothing’s been signed yet, but they want an answer soon.” He stood, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Jungkook’s head. “Get some rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay?”

Jungkook didn’t respond. Just nodded quietly.

When the door shut, he lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, the silence now too loud.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jungkook didn’t wait by the usual corner today. Today, he walked alone, his bag slung over his own shoulder, hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets, hood pulled up halfway. He kept his head low as he made his way to the building, his steps quieter than usual. The sting of last night still lingered in his chest, tucked beneath layers of silence.

He was early. Earlier than he’d ever been.

The classroom lights were on, but the space was nearly empty. Just a couple of students from another section flipping through notes in the front row. Jungkook walked straight to his usual seat, ignoring the familiar pang in his chest when he sees Taehyung’s seat.

He sat down wordlessly, placed his bag on the floor, and folded his arms across the desk. Then he lowered his head onto them, eyes wide open, blankly watching the polished wood just inches from his face.

It wasn’t like he was angry. Not really.

But he was tired.

Of hoping. Of being the one who always waited. Of smiling when things hurt more than they should.

Outside, the footsteps began to grow in frequency. The morning buzz of campus was waking up, students beginning to arrive, laughter and chatter echoing faintly through the corridors. Then, just before class began, he heard them.

Quick, hurried steps. Ones he knew by heart.

Taehyung.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung said softly as he entered the classroom, his voice laced with worry.

Jungkook didn’t lift his head.

Taehyung moved quickly toward him, eyes searching his face as he crouched slightly beside the desk. “Koo, hey… I’m so sorry about last night. I– Yerim and I got caught up in–”

“I know,” he mumbled against his arms.

Taehyung’s voice faltered. “I was supposed to meet you. I tried– I really tried to get there. I swear I did.”

“You don’t have to explain.” Jungkook finally lifted his head, eyes meeting Taehyung’s. His expression was calm, too calm. A small smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s okay, Tae.”

That gentle nickname, usually sweet on his tongue, sounded distant now. Thin. A whisper of what it used to be. “But it’s not okay,” Taehyung said, almost desperate. “You waited. And I–”

“We have a presentation today,” Jungkook interrupted, pulling his folder from his bag and smoothing it out in front of him. “You should go check your slides. I think Mrs. Kang is already here.” Yeah. Apparently, she borrowed time from other professors to finish this presentation quickly..

Taehyung hesitated, eyes flickering across Jungkook’s face. “Jungkook…” he said again, voice so quiet, barely above a whisper.

Jungkook looked up with a small nod, a smile still stuck like tape to his lips. “I’m okay, Hyung. Really.”

And that was the worst part, how soft he said it. How kind he still looked, even though his eyes were dimmer. How he kept pretending so Taehyung wouldn’t feel worse than he already did.

Because Jungkook wasn’t angry.

He was just… disappointed.

Taehyung stared at him a second longer before slowly stepping back, hesitating near his own seat, then finally leaning away.

Jungkook didn’t watch him go. He looked down at his folder again, heart steady but heavy, mind swirling with everything he didn’t say.

Today, they’d present their project.

Later that day, the cafeteria buzzed with its usual lunchtime hum, trays clattering, laughter bouncing off tiled walls, and the scent of fried rice and noodles drifting in the air. At a long table near the windows, seven familiar figures sat huddled together, their trays half-full, their conversation comfortably tangled in teasing, soft chuckles, and shared glances.

Taehyung sat beside Jungkook, their knees brushing occasionally under the table. It was the most time they’d had together all day. He had gently nudged Jungkook earlier, offering a small piece of fried chicken from his tray with a hopeful look. Jungkook had smiled faintly and taken it, chewing in silence while the others bantered on.

Jin was in the middle of a passionate debate with Hoseok about whether mint chocolate ice cream belonged in the freezer or the trash bin.

“It’s literally toothpaste,” Jin huffed, dramatically tossing his spoon onto his tray. “Frozen toothpaste.”

Amid the warmth and noise, Jungkook’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He peeked at the screen, and his breath caught slightly.

Joonie-hyung Calling...

He blinked, then glanced around the table before gently pushing his chair back.

“I’ll just go to the bathroom,” he said, placing his phone to his ear and walking off before anyone could question him.

Taehyung watched him go, eyes narrowing subtly. But he didn’t say anything. Just pulled his tray a little closer, pushing a grain of rice around absently.

In the restroom down the hall, Jungkook leaned against the sink, voice low as he answered, “Hello? Hyung?”

Namjoon’s voice came through, calm but with a hint of excitement. “Hey, Kook. You free to talk for a minute?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

There was a pause on the other end, and then Namjoon exhaled. “So, I talked to my supervisor this morning… and I managed to convince them to delay my transfer until the end of your school year.”

Jungkook froze, heart skipping a beat. “Wait. Really?”

“Mhm.” Namjoon’s tone softened. “You’ll be able to finish your first year here. I thought… you might want that.”

Relief washed over Jungkook like warm water. His shoulders sagged.

“I do,” he murmured, biting his lip. “Hyung… thank you. I didn’t know how to even– thank you so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Kook,” Namjoon replied gently. “You’ve been doing well. I just wanted you to have more time with your friends.”

“I really didn’t want to leave yet,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “I feel like everything’s just starting to settle.”

“Then don’t,” Namjoon said. “Not until it’s time.”

Jungkook swallowed hard, nodding even though his brother couldn’t see him.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

But what neither of them realized was that the door behind them had quietly creaked shut just a moment ago. Yoongi stood a few steps away, a paper towel in hand. His expression was the same as he dried his hands slowly, eyes flicking toward Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.

The younger hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused, too wrapped up in the weight of the call.

Yoongi didn’t say anything.

He simply turned, tossed the towel into the bin, and walked out the door, leaving Jungkook to breathe quietly against the cool porcelain, unaware that someone else now knew what he hadn’t told even Taehyung yet.

Jungkook splashed cool water on his face before exiting the restroom, drawing in a steady breath as he pushed the door open. The soft buzz of the cafeteria returned to his ears, laughter, metal spoons against trays, the occasional shout from another table. Everything felt louder now, yet oddly muffled inside his chest.

He forced a small smile as he approached the table, sliding back into his seat beside Taehyung, who glanced at him immediately.

“You okay?” Taehyung asked under his breath, gaze searching.

Jungkook nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Just… stomach felt weird for a second.”

Jimin leaned in with a dramatic gasp. “You didn’t drink the cafeteria milk tea, did you? That stuff is basically a cleanse.”

Hoseok snorted mid-bite while Jin laughed loud enough to startle the table behind them. Taehyung chuckled lightly too, the sound soft and brief, but his eyes didn’t leave Jungkook.

Jungkook offered a faint smile and reached for his drink, sipping quietly, doing his best to act normal, like he hadn’t just had a conversation that shifted the entire course of his year. Like nothing was about to change.

But someone noticed.

Yoongi’s eyes, quiet and calculating, flicked toward him. He didn’t say much, he rarely did in moments like this, but when Jungkook glanced up, Yoongi gave a slow blink and then leaned in slightly.

“You and I need to talk,” Yoongi murmured low enough that only Jungkook might've heard, eyes still fixed on the table in front of him.

Jungkook stilled for half a second, chopsticks hovering above his bowl.

Then he nodded, just once.

And went back to eating in silence

Campus was quieter after lunch, as the group began to scatter. Jimin tugged Hoseok toward the vending machines with a playful whine, Jin declared he needed coffee “or death,”

Jungkook felt a light tap on his elbow.

“Come on,” Yoongi said simply, already stepping off the path.

Jungkook hesitated, glancing toward the others, especially Taehyung, who was still focused elsewhere, before quietly slipping away behind Yoongi.

They walked without a word, taking the stone path that curved behind the library and led to a quieter courtyard framed by benches and shaded trees. Jungkook had always liked this spot, it felt a little hidden, like something secret. They sat on one of the benches, a low breeze rustling through the leaves overhead.

Yoongi rested his forearms on his knees, fingers clasped. “So.”

Jungkook kept his hands in his lap. “So…?”

Yoongi tilted his head, gaze calm and unreadable. “I heard.”

Jungkook blinked. “Heard what?”

“The phone call,” Yoongi said plainly, eyes narrowing just slightly in concern. “You didn’t notice me when I walked in. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I was just washing my hands, but… you’re leaving?”

Jungkook’s lips parted, breath catching. He looked away. “Oh,” he whispered, eyes fixed on a crack in the pavement.

Yoongi gave him a moment before gently prompting, “Is it true?”

“…Yeah,” Jungkook murmured, voice small and thin around the edges. “Namjoon-hyung… got a new job. Overseas. He said I’d have to come with him since–” His throat tightened. “Since it’s just us.”

Yoongi sat back a little, his face softening. “And he just told you?”

“Last night.” Jungkook nodded, voice barely audible now. “He was going to take me with him immediately, but… he convinced his supervisor to let me finish the school year here. So I have 3 more months.”

Silence settled between them for a long beat. Only the wind spoke.

Jungkook drew his knees up slightly, wrapping his arms around them. “I haven’t told anyone yet. Not even Taehyung-hyung.”

Yoongi exhaled slowly. “That’s a lot to carry alone, Kook.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I just… I don’t want to ruin anything.”

His voice cracked faintly on the last word.

Yoongi nodded once, understanding. Then, with rare gentleness, he said, “You won’t ruin anything by being honest. But I get it. When you’re ready.”

Jungkook looked down again, but this time, his eyes shimmered, not quite with tears, but something close. Quiet grief. Fear. The ache of time running out.

And beside him, Yoongi didn’t press. He just sat there, grounding him, like a constant.
The bell was due to ring in five minutes.

Taehyung’s brows furrowed as he checked his phone again, the screen reflecting the time. He stood near the corner of the Humanities building, eyes scanning the courtyard where the group had lingered after lunch.

“Jimin,” he called, his tone unusually sharp. “Where did Jungkook go?”

Jimin blinked, mouth still full of soda. “Wasn’t he just here?”

“No,” Taehyung said curtly. “He left with Yoongi-hyung a while ago.”

“Oh, right!” Hoseok chimed in, walking up from the vending machine. “They slipped off together. I think Yoongi said something about needing to talk.”

Taehyung’s jaw ticked. He didn’t like not knowing where Jungkook was. Not today, not when Jungkook had been so quiet, so distant.

“Let’s check behind the library,” Jin offered, tossing his empty cup in the bin. “They go there sometimes.”

The group moved in an easy cluster across the path, shoes crunching on the gravel as they turned the corner and approached the courtyard hidden behind trees.

And there, under the shade of those swaying branches, sat Yoongi and Jungkook.

Jungkook’s arms were wrapped loosely around his knees, head bowed. His eyes looked a little red, but not teary, more like they had seen too much silence. Yoongi sat close beside him, leaning in slightly as he spoke softly. One hand hovered behind Jungkook’s back, not quite touching, but offering presence.

They didn’t notice the others at first.

Taehyung’s steps slowed, his heart pinching at the sight. Something twisted uncomfortably in his chest. He’d been trying to reach Jungkook all day, and yet here he was, confiding in Yoongi instead.

Jimin caught Taehyung’s shoulder before he could step forward. “Give them a second,” he murmured. “Jungkook looked like he needed it.”

Taehyung stayed rooted, fingers curling at his sides.

Then Jungkook looked up, blinking when he saw them. He straightened immediately, wiping at his eyes even though there was nothing there. His smile was practiced, soft around the corners, but not quite reaching his eyes. “Sorry,” he called out, standing quickly. “Didn’t realize the time.”

Yoongi rose beside him, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable but knowing.

Jungkook walked back to them first, and Taehyung met him halfway.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung asked, voice quiet.

Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, just needed to breathe for a bit.”

Taehyung wanted to believe it. But there was still something unreadable in Jungkook’s eyes, something just out of reach. He wanted to ask more, to pull him close and kiss the quiet sadness out of him. But not with the others watching.

So instead, he offered his hand.

And Jungkook, without hesitation, took it.

They walked back with the group, fingers brushing, not tightly interlaced like usual, but still linked. A quiet promise, fragile but there. Yoongi walked behind them, gaze lingering for a moment on Jungkook’s back. He didn’t say a word.

Not yet.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The weeks that followed passed both slowly and too quickly, like sand slipping steadily through Jungkook’s fingers.

He found himself reaching out more, texting the group chat first, lingering in the hallways after classes, suggesting spontaneous café visits or late-night study sessions at Jin’s house. There was always a gentle smile on his face, always an eager nod when someone asked, “Wanna hang out after?”

And though it looked casual to most, Jungkook felt the weight behind every moment.

He was trying to make time feel like it belonged to him.

Because he had only two and a half months left before everything he knew, the bustling campus, the dusty corners of the library, the way Taehyung’s shoulder would brush against his on sleepy mornings, would be packed away in luggage and goodbyes.

Namjoon hadn’t brought it up again. Not yet. But the finality of it lingered like a second shadow.

One Thursday afternoon, the group settled into their usual booth at Honeybrewed, mugs steaming and books scattered carelessly across the table. Jungkook had claimed the seat beside Jimin today, the tips of his fingers absently swirling the foam in his iced coffee.

“Okay, seriously,” Jimin said suddenly, narrowing his eyes at him. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been... different lately,” Jimin said, leaning in a little. “You used to take forever to say yes to a hangout, and now you're the one asking. Not that I'm complaining, but…” He trailed off, eyes narrowing further. “It feels like you’re saying something.”

Jungkook’s heart skipped.

He laughed, too quick, too breathy. “What? No– nothing’s wrong. I just... want to spend time with you guys more. That’s not weird, right?”

Jimin didn’t smile. “Not weird. Just not you.”

Across the table, Taehyung glanced up from his drink, sensing the tension. His hand found Jungkook’s under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. Jungkook looked at him briefly, eyes soft, grateful, but it didn’t stop the tremble in his chest.

“I’m okay,” Jungkook said again, forcing his smile more gently this time. “I promise.”

Jimin tilted his head, unconvinced but unwilling to push harder. “Alright,” he murmured, though his gaze lingered long after the conversation had moved on.

That night, Jungkook stayed at the café a little longer, laughing at Jin’s jokes, letting Hoseok drag him into a dramatic retelling of a dream, helping Yoongi rewrite a verse for class. He pressed soft kisses to Taehyung’s cheek when no one was looking, caught his pinky finger under the table, and didn’t let go.

Because he didn’t know how many more of these nights he had left.

And no one else knew yet, not even Taehyung.

Not that Jungkook wanted to keep it from him. He just didn’t know how to say, I’m leaving, but I don’t want to.

Lately, Taehyung had grown used to warmth, the kind that came in the form of shared headphones on the ride home, late-night calls that started with “just for a minute” and ended with tangled whispers under blankets. The kind that lived in Jungkook’s hands when they reached for him without thinking.

But recently, that warmth felt... fleeting.

Not because Jungkook was colder. No, if anything, he was warmer.

Too warm.

He was always there now. In the café, before Taehyung even texted. Offering to help carry bags. Volunteering to stay behind and clean up after group work. Sitting closer. Holding hands longer.

And always smiling. Always, always smiling.

But behind it, Taehyung could feel something tightening, like a string pulled too taut.

One Friday afternoon, they were all sprawled on the grass behind the art building, sun dipping low, sky brushed gold. Laughter buzzed lazily around him, Hoseok’s loud cackles, Jimin’s dramatic wheezes, Yoongi’s quiet snorts.

Taehyung wasn’t laughing.

Jungkook was seated beside him, laughing too, head tipped back, cheeks flushed, hand pressed lightly to his stomach.

And Taehyung just watched him, quietly.

There was something fragile about the way Jungkook tilted his face to the sun, something too delicate in the way he squeezed Jimin’s arm mid-joke, like he was trying to make a memory. Trying too hard to hold on. Taehyung’s chest ached.

That night, after they all said their goodbyes and began peeling off in different directions, Taehyung walked slower than usual. Jungkook’s fingers were laced with his, soft and secure, but his steps were lighter. Like he wanted to be grounded and float away all at once.

They stopped at a quiet corner, near the vending machines where they used to sneak snacks between classes. Taehyung turned, tugging Jungkook gently to a halt.

“Jungkook,” he murmured, brows pulling together slightly, “what’s going on?”

Jungkook blinked up at him, his smile faltering only for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“You’re... different. You’ve been showing up more, laughing harder, staying closer.”

He hesitated. “Did something happen?”

Jungkook’s breath caught.

His eyes dropped to the ground. “Tae…”

“Please,” Taehyung whispered, stepping closer, thumb brushing under Jungkook’s chin to tilt his face back up. “Talk to me.”

Jungkook’s throat bobbed. “I’m just trying to make the most of everything,” he said softly, voice barely above the wind. “While I still can.”

Taehyung stared at him for a long moment, heart sinking slowly into silence.

And though Jungkook hadn’t said why, hadn’t said when, or what he meant by that, Taehyung knew.

Something was changing. Something was ending.

And for the first time, he felt truly afraid of what he couldn’t control.

But instead of asking again, he just wrapped his arms around Jungkook’s waist and pulled him in tight, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “I’m right here,” he whispered. “So take as much time as you need.”

Jungkook’s arms tightened in return.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Time slipped past like sand through his fingers.

One day, it was just a quiet decision made with Namjoon. The next, Jungkook found himself staring at a paper calendar he kept under his bed, the date of their flight circled twice in fading red ink. A month and a half left. Just six weeks.

It felt impossible, leaving this city, this life, his friends. Leaving Taehyung.

He still hadn’t told them. Still hadn’t told him. He knows he should’ve by now, but… Every time he tried, the words scraped up his throat like glass. Every time he looked at Taehyung’s face, so soft, so warm, so filled with quiet trust, Jungkook felt like he was shattering all over again. So he tried to live harder. Laugh more. Make moments count. But the weight only grew heavier, settling in his lungs like storm clouds.

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon when it happened.

Jungkook was home, in a hoodie too big for the summer warmth, curled on the living room floor with Namjoon.

The house had been cleaned that morning, almost too thoroughly. Picture frames had been boxed. Childhood books gathered into dusty piles.

Jungkook sat cross-legged beside his brother, fiddling with the corner of a flyer: FOR SALE - Viewing Starts Next Month.

“Are the tickets… really booked?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Namjoon nodded, not looking up from the folder in his lap. “Yeah. Two seats. I tried to find a date right after your finals end.”

Jungkook’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Namjoon continued, gently, “I spoke with a realtor. They’re listing the house next week, but no pressure, we’ll still be here a while before the move.”

Jungkook swallowed, fingers curling tightly around the hem of his hoodie. “Okay,” he murmured. “That’s… okay.” He didn’t know if he was convincing himself or Namjoon.

Outside, summer sunlight warmed the front yard. And just past the gate, Taehyung stood, blinking quietly, holding a small paper bag of donuts in one hand. He had shown up on a whim, remembering how Jungkook had once, half-asleep during a movie night, mumbled, “I’ve been craving those cinnamon cream ones from the corner shop.”

So Taehyung had gone early. Bought two. Smiled to himself the whole walk over.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He didn’t even mean to hear anything, just a knock, a grin, maybe a kiss at the door.

But his smile fell the moment he heard Jungkook’s voice.

“Are the tickets really booked?”

His breath caught.

“…they’re listing the house next week…”

Taehyung took a step back.

And then another. The paper bag crinkled slightly in his hand. He looked down, almost dazed. It was so soft, so stupid,the sweetness he had planned. The tiny, warm surprise.

But now it felt like nothing.

Nothing next to the storm building in his chest.

The door creaked open slowly.

Jungkook looked up, still crouched by the couch, eyes widening when he saw who it was. “Taehyung?”

Taehyung stood in the entryway with the paper bag of donuts in one hand, his other curled tightly into a fist by his side. His eyes weren’t the usual warm amber, they were stormy, stunned, like someone had knocked the wind out of him.

Jungkook scrambled up quickly, wiping his palms against his hoodie. “You’re here early– uh, I thought we were meeting tomorrow–”

“I just thought I’d surprise you.”

Taehyung’s voice was quiet. Controlled. He lifted the bag a little, though it drooped like his heart wasn’t really in it. “You said you were craving these.”

Namjoon, still sitting on the couch, looked between the two with a gentle frown, already piecing together what had happened.

“Hey, Tae,” he greeted calmly. “I think I’ll head upstairs, give you two a moment.”

Taehyung nodded without looking away from Jungkook, and Namjoon stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

A pause stretched between them, thick and trembling.

Jungkook took a tentative step forward. “Did you hear that…?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

Taehyung didn’t answer at first. He looked down at the bag in his hand. “You’re leaving.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched. “Hyung–”

“You weren’t going to tell me?” Taehyung asked, still so calm. Too calm. The way someone gets when they’re trying not to cry. “You were just going to wait until what– your last day?”

“No! I– I wanted to tell you, I swear, I just…”

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, eyes pleading. “I couldn’t find the right time. Every time I looked at you, it just–” He paused, biting the inside of his cheek. “It felt too real. Like saying it out loud would break something...”

Taehyung finally met his eyes, and that look, raw, wounded, it made Jungkook feel like the floor had cracked beneath him.

“You think I wouldn’t want to know something this big?” he murmured. “You think I’d rather be protected than trusted?”

“No, I–” Jungkook’s voice cracked, his fists trembling at his sides. “I was scared. I didn’t want to see that look on your face.”

“You mean this one?”

The silence burned between them.

And then, after a breathless second, Taehyung stepped forward and placed the paper bag gently on the table. “I should go,” he said, voice softer now, but no less sharp. “Before I say something I’ll regret.”

Jungkook stood frozen, unable to move, unable to speak.

The door closed behind Taehyung with the softest click.

The night after Taehyung left his house, Jungkook called.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Each one rang out unanswered. He texted too.

Koo: “Tae… please talk to me.” [9:21 PM]
Koo: “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out like that.” [9:38 PM]
Koo: “I love you.” [10:14 PM]

But the read receipts never came.

Taehyung’s silence screamed louder than anything Jungkook had ever heard.

Three days later.

Students laughing, walking by with iced drinks and notebooks. The group sat in their usual circle on a bench and some scattered steps near the fountain, drinks and snacks passed between them. Everyone seemed to be talking casually about a group project, the upcoming midterms, or who’d forgotten to submit their assignment on time.

Everyone except Taehyung.

He hadn’t said much. Just nodded, sipped his tea. And Jungkook, seated on the edge of the group, had barely looked up. He felt it.

How Taehyung had been careful. Distant. How his eyes would flick toward him, and then away like it burned to linger. How he laughed, but never when Jungkook spoke.

Finally, Jin noticed.

“Okay, what’s up with you two?” he said, pointing a straw between them. “Did you guys fight or something?”

Taehyung exhaled, fingers tightening around his cup. He looked down for a moment, then said quietly, but without looking at Jungkook.

“He’s leaving.”

The group froze.

“What?” Jimin blinked. “Wait– what do you mean?”

Taehyung leaned back against the stone planter, his voice like dull steel. “After this semester. He’s moving abroad with Namjoon-hyung. He didn’t tell me. I overheard it.”

Jungkook’s eyes lifted then, panic flashing across his face. “Tae–”

“You weren’t going to say anything, right?” Taehyung muttered, bitter now, still not looking his way. “You were just going to hang out like nothing was wrong, then disappear.”

A long silence settled between them. The noise of other students faded into a hollow hum.

Hoseok's mouth opened, but no words came.

Jimin looked between them like he couldn’t understand how they got to this point.

And then Yoongi spoke, low and even. “I’ve known.”

Everyone turned.

Yoongi shrugged slightly. “Weeks ago. Knew it wasn’t my place to tell.”

Taehyung looked at him, eyes narrowing, not in anger, more in disbelief. “And you didn’t think to warn me?”

Yoongi’s gaze was steady. “You probably wouldn’t have listened. Not until he told you himself.”

Jungkook lowered his gaze again, his fingers curled into tight fists on his knees.

“I was going to tell you,” he whispered, barely audible. “I just… didn’t know how.”

And still, Taehyung didn’t look at him.

Jimin looked between them with a frown etched deep into his face. “Koo…”

But Jungkook stood slowly, brushing his hands against his thighs. “I need to go,” he said softly.

The moment Jungkook turned, his steps quickening down the path, Jimin was on his feet. “Jungkook– wait!”

“Koo–!” Hoseok called, standing up right after.

Jin sighed, slamming his drink on the bench before jogging after them. “You losers are going to make me gray.”

The three of them rushed off, calling for Jungkook down the paved walkway, their voices slowly fading.

But Taehyung didn’t move. He sat there, jaw clenched, eyes glassy but dry, arms folded tight across his chest like armor.

Yoongi didn’t speak for a moment. Just leaned forward, elbows on his knees, glancing toward the ground.

“…So,” he said finally, voice low. “You want to talk, or do you just want to sit here pretending none of this hurts?”

Taehyung’s jaw twitched. “You knew. And you didn’t tell me.”

“I said it wasn’t my place.”

“Bullshit.” Taehyung’s eyes snapped up, cold and burning. “You just didn’t want to deal with the fallout.”

Yoongi tilted his head, not flinching. “I wanted him to have the chance to tell you on his own. Because I thought, maybe, just maybe, you’d understand more coming from him.”

Taehyung scoffed. “Understand what? That he was planning to disappear without saying goodbye? That the boy I trusted with everything was too much of a… coward– to tell me he was leaving?”

Yoongi’s voice was calm, but sharp now. “He wasn’t going to disappear. He was trying to tell you. You just didn’t see it.”

“Oh, right, because I’m blind?” Taehyung spat, rising to his feet. “I guess I should’ve known every time he looked a little too sad or held me like it was the last time. My bad for thinking we had time.”

“Don’t twist it.”

“You don’t get to defend him,” Taehyung snapped, pointing. “You’re not the one being left behind.”

Yoongi stood now too, slower. “No. But I am the one who saw both of you falling harder than either of you knew what to do with. And I also saw the panic in Jungkook’s eyes every time he thought about losing this.”

Taehyung’s lips trembled, but he pressed them into a flat, bitter line. “He should’ve told me. That’s all I ever asked for. Honesty.”

“And maybe,” Yoongi said, quieter now, “he didn’t tell you because he thought the truth would break both of you sooner than it had to.”

Taehyung turned away, fists at his sides, his heart pounding like it wanted to claw out of his chest.

Yoongi continued, voice even and low, “You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to feel betrayed. But don’t pretend like he didn’t love you back just because he made one mistake in trying to protect what you had.”

Taehyung didn’t answer.

But his silence wasn’t indifference, it was a dam holding back grief.

The older boy watched him for a moment longer before sighing softly and walking away.

Taehyung stood alone in the sun-dappled campus.

“Koo! Jungkook– wait!” Jimin’s voice pierced the air as they caught up along the edge of the campus green, sneakers crunching on gravel.

Jungkook didn’t stop at first. He kept walking, head low, fingers tightening around the strap of his bag.

“Jeon Jungkook, don’t make me tackle you,” Jin called, breathless but serious.

That made Jungkook slow. His shoulders trembled before he finally came to a stop, back still turned. “…Hyung, please,” he whispered, voice barely audible over the wind. “I can’t– I don’t want to talk right now.”

Jimin stepped in front of him, gaze soft and searching. “So you were really gonna leave without saying anything?”

“I wasn’t–” Jungkook’s voice broke, and he shut his eyes, exhaling shakily. “I was trying. I was. I just didn’t know how.”

“But why?” Hoseok asked, catching up beside them. “Why keep it in? We would’ve helped you. We would’ve been there, Koo.”

Jungkook looked up at them now, eyes red. “Because every time I tried to say it, I felt like the ground would disappear. I didn't want to watch everyone’s face fall. I didn’t want to see Taehyung-hyung look at me like I was… abandoning him.” His voice cracked on the last word.

Jin stepped forward slowly, placing a warm hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You’re allowed to be scared. But none of us would’ve let you carry this alone.”

“I didn’t want to ruin everything.” Jungkook shook his head, blinking fast. “This place… this year… all of you. I finally felt like I belonged somewhere.”

“You still do,” Hoseok murmured.

“But I’m leaving,” Jungkook said helplessly. “No matter how much I love it here. No matter how much I love him.”

Silence.

Then Jimin, whispering, “He loves you too, you know. That’s why he’s hurting. He’s trying to make sense of it all.”

Jungkook looked down, voice barely a whisper. “I just wish I could stop time. Just for a little while.”

Jin sighed and tugged Jungkook into a hug, stubborn, protective, big-brother-like. Hoseok joined in without hesitation. Jimin stood close, reaching out to rub Jungkook’s back.

The sun was low when classes ended. Students trickled out, laughing and chattering, but Jungkook’s world felt muted, like sound had faded around the edges of everything that mattered. He saw Taehyung walking ahead toward his car, bag slung over his shoulder, head down.

Jungkook hesitated. His heart thudded with nerves.

But he pushed through it. “Hyung,” he called out gently, catching up.

Taehyung slowed but didn’t look back immediately. The silence hung between them before he finally stopped and turned, eyes guarded.

Jungkook stood there, chest rising and falling. “Can we talk?”

Taehyung gave a faint nod and turned back toward the car.

They slid in quietly, Jungkook in the passenger seat, Taehyung in the driver’s side. Neither turned the engine on. It was just the soft ticking of the cooling dashboard and the quiet hum of their breathing.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Until Jungkook broke the silence. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you,” he said softly, looking down at his hands. “I wanted to tell you so many times. I tried. But every time I saw your face, I just... I couldn’t do it.”

Taehyung’s fingers were curled loosely around the steering wheel. He didn’t look at Jungkook.

“So you were just going to leave?” he murmured, voice low, rough with emotion. “Let me keep planning dates in my head, thinking about summer, about, about us, while you were already packing in secret?”

“I wasn’t packing,” Jungkook whispered, eyes wet. “I didn’t want to go. I don’t want to go.”

“Then why didn’t you fight harder?” Taehyung finally turned toward him, expression a mixture of hurt and disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me so we could figure it out together, Jungkook?”

“I was scared,” Jungkook admitted, voice cracking. “I didn’t want to see the way you’d look at me. I didn’t want you to blame me.”

Taehyung exhaled harshly, leaning back in his seat, hands running through his hair. “No one's blaming you, Jungkook. I blame myself. For not noticing. For being so caught up with stupid projects and–” he stopped, biting his lip. “I would’ve made time. I would’ve made it work. If you had just let me in.”

Silence again. A raw, unspoken ache stretched between them.

Then Jungkook reached out slowly, hand trembling, placing it gently over Taehyung’s. “I’m still here now,” he said. “We still have time.”
Taehyung finally met his eyes, and that was when the dam broke a little. His gaze softened, lips twitching as if to hold back all the things he couldn’t say.

“You broke my heart a little, you know?” Taehyung murmured.

“I know,” Jungkook whispered, voice shaking. “And I’m so sorry.”

Taehyung turned his hand over to hold Jungkook’s properly. Fingers intertwined. “I don’t want to spend the last month and a half being angry with you,” he said. “But you have to promise me something.”

Jungkook nodded quickly. “Anything.”

“Don’t shut me out again.”

His voice was quiet, but it held the weight of everything that had gone unspoken.

Jungkook leaned in, forehead brushing against Taehyung’s shoulder. “I promise.”

Taehyung kissed the side of his head gently, eyes fluttering shut for a second as he inhaled Jungkook’s familiar scent.

They didn’t need to solve everything right now. But the most important thing, their love was still there.

And for now, that was enough.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

After that conversation in Taehyung’s car, things began to feel different, not broken, but delicate, like a glass that had cracked and been carefully mended.

Taehyung didn’t let go.

And Jungkook held on tighter than ever.

They didn’t talk much about the goodbye anymore, not because they were ignoring it, but because they both knew time was running short, and every second mattered.

Jungkook started collecting moments. Photos in photo booths. Coffee-stained notes tucked into his notebooks. The sound of Taehyung's laugh echoing across campus, the way his hand always found Jungkook’s under the table.

Taehyung tried to give Jungkook everything, rides home even when it was out of the way, kisses before class, arms around him during break times, watching the clouds drift above as if they could freeze time by simply wishing hard enough.

Their friends noticed the shift too.

Hoseok and Jimin became more affectionate, often pulling Jungkook into spontaneous hugs or inviting him to lunch without a reason. Jin cooked more often, even if it meant carrying Tupperware to school.

Yoongi… Yoongi was quiet, but he sat next to Jungkook every time they worked late in the library, offering quiet companionship and occasional snarky comfort.

One afternoon, Jungkook stayed late to watch Taehyung paint at the art building. And Taehyung’s brow was furrowed in concentration. Jungkook stared at him like he was memorizing him.

“Are you scared?” Taehyung had asked suddenly.

“Terrified,” Jungkook whispered. “But I think I’d be more scared if I didn’t love you this much.”

That night, Taehyung held him tighter in bed than he ever had before, whispering “Don’t forget me” over and over until Jungkook cried into his chest.

They had a picnic on campus. A midnight walk by the lake. A study session that turned into a nap on Taehyung’s shoulder.

And then came the last week.

Namjoon was finalizing the sale of their house. Boxes started appearing in Jungkook’s room. Plane tickets printed. The future couldn’t be delayed anymore.

During one of their last hangouts, the group gathered around the vending machines,an old, familiar spot.

Jimin cracked a joke. Jin rolled his eyes. Hoseok laughed too loudly.

But everyone’s gaze kept drifting to Jungkook.

He smiled. He laughed. He held Taehyung’s pinky in the shadows of his hoodie sleeve.

But beneath it all, there was sadness, beautiful and bittersweet.

No one went to university that day.

The group had silently agreed, without messages or confirmations, that Jin’s house would be where they'd gather one last time. No deadlines, no pretending they weren’t breaking inside.

Just them.

Jimin and Hoseok were fighting over what movie to play, Yoongi was curled on the armchair, earbuds in, but only one side playing. Taehyung hadn’t let go of Jungkook’s hand since they walked through the door.

They ordered too much food.

Jin made strawberry milk for everyone, even though he joked that they were too old for it now. Laughter came easier than expected, but behind each smile was a tightness no one could shake. As the hour stretched into the living room, Jungkook found himself curled beside Taehyung, the sound of conversation fading around them. Jin had gone to take a call, Jimin and Hoseok were raiding the kitchen, and Yoongi had dozed off with his arms crossed.

“Can I tell you something?” Jungkook murmured, resting his chin on Taehyung’s shoulder.

Taehyung turned slightly, eyes gentle. “Always.”

Jungkook’s fingers curled into the hem of his hoodie. “Namjoon-hyung and I… we’re not sure if we’ll stay there forever.”

Taehyung blinked slowly.

Jungkook glanced down. “It depends on his job. And mine, eventually. There’s a chance… if things work out after I graduate, I might be able to come back here. Maybe not to the same house. But…”

He looked up, voice trembling.

“Back to you.”

Taehyung stared at him, quiet for a beat too long.

Then he smiled, small, soft, the kind of smile that holds years of love in its silence, and pressed his lips to Jungkook’s forehead.

“Then I’ll wait. However long it takes.”

Jungkook’s eyes welled up. “You always say that so easily.”

Taehyung laughed under his breath. “It’s not easy. But you’re worth it.”

Later that night, they all ended up in a pile on the living room floor. Blankets everywhere, Taehyung and Jungkook lay side by side, fingers intertwined under the blanket, facing each other.

“I wish we had more time,” Jungkook whispered.

“We had enough,” Taehyung replied, brushing his thumb over Jungkook’s knuckles. “And that’s all I’ll ever need to wait for you to come back.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Chapter Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The airport was loud with scattered announcements and the rolling of suitcases, but around them, it felt painfully still.

Jungkook stood in front of the departure gate, fingers trembling slightly around the strap of his backpack. His eyes darted from one familiar face to another, Jimin, Hoseok, Jin, Yoongi… and then Taehyung.

No one really knew what to say.

Hoseok was the first to crack, wrapping Jungkook in a tight, tear-filled hug. “You better call every week, got it?” he sniffled, voice muffled into Jungkook’s shoulder.

Jimin followed, lingering longer than expected. “I’ll miss your dumb laugh,” he whispered, and Jungkook chuckled tearfully.

Yoongi offered a small smirk and a pat to the head. “Don’t cry too much, kid,” he said, but his voice was softer than usual.

Jin pulled him in next. “Our group chat better not die. If you don’t send selfies at least once a week, I will fly over and haunt you,” he half-joked, but his eyes were red too.

Then Namjoon gently tugged Jungkook aside to deal with final check-in matters, leaving one last person standing by the pillar.

Taehyung.

Jungkook turned slowly. Taehyung wasn’t crying. Not on the outside. But his lips were pressed together so tightly they’d gone pale, and his fingers flexed like he didn’t know whether to hold on or let go.

Jungkook stepped close, whispering, “We’re really doing this, huh?”

Taehyung swallowed thickly. “We are.”

A week ago, in Taehyung’s room, night draped across the windows. They were curled up on his bed, blankets half on the floor, Jungkook’s head resting on Taehyung’s chest.

"Can we really do long distance?" Jungkook whispered.

Taehyung paused before speaking. "It’s going to be hard. I won’t lie. But if it’s with you… I want to try."

Jungkook looked up at him. “What if the time zones suck? What if we get busy?”

“We will,” Taehyung said softly. “But we’ll also miss each other. We’ll find ways. Even if it’s just a two-minute call between classes, or texts during layovers. I’ll wait for you, baby. Even if the world moves.”

Jungkook blinked hard. “And what if I come back?”

Taehyung smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Then I’ll be right where you left me.”

Now, standing beneath the fluorescent lights, Taehyung reached for Jungkook’s wrist.

“I’ll be right where you left me,” he repeated quietly.

Jungkook’s breath hitched. “I’ll come back,” he promised, stepping in to wrap his arms tightly around Taehyung’s middle. “I’ll make sure of it.”

The kiss they shared was barely a kiss, more a touch of trembling lips and quiet longing, but it was real. Honest.

“Boarding for flight 378 to Amsterdam,” came the call overhead.

Namjoon placed a hand on Jungkook’s back.

It was time.

Jungkook pulled back slowly, eyes still locked on Taehyung’s. With one last squeeze of hands, he turned. He didn’t look back. But his chest ached in the way that proved how much love he was leaving behind.

And Taehyung stood there, heartbroken, open, still waiting.

The departure gate had long closed, and Jungkook was gone.

Taehyung hadn’t moved from where he stood, eyes still trained on the space where Jungkook disappeared. His fingers curled tightly around the sleeve of his jacket, jaw locked as he fought back everything he felt too deeply.

Jin gently walked up beside him, placing a warm hand on his back. “He didn’t want you to cry, Tae.”

“I’m not crying,” Taehyung mumbled, voice hoarse. But his eyes shimmered, betraying him.

Jimin stepped in next, leaning his head briefly on Taehyung’s shoulder. “It hurts like hell, huh?”

Taehyung didn’t answer.

Yoongi stood nearby, quiet, letting the others speak while his presence said everything that needed to be felt.

Hoseok sniffled. “I still can’t believe our baby will be in another timezone now. What even.”

A Few Days Later.

Despite Jungkook’s absence, the group still found themselves at Taehyung’s house most afternoons. They didn’t say it out loud, but everyone just quietly agreed that being around Taehyung right now mattered. The house was full of snacks, open laughter, and occasional teasing, exactly like when Jungkook was still there.

On the fourth day after the airport departure, Jimin flopped onto Taehyung’s couch dramatically, legs over Hoseok’s lap. “Do you think he’s settled in already?”

“He messaged me this morning,” Taehyung said, glancing at his phone. “Said their house is bigger than ours, but cozy. He misses ramyeon.”

Yoongi, sitting by the coffee table, lifted a brow. “Let’s call him.”

“Now?” Jin asked.

“Why not?” Jimin grinned, already unlocking his phone. “Let’s annoy him.”

Moments later, the video call rang. When Jungkook’s face appeared on screen, wearing a soft hoodie and eyes lighting up the moment he saw them, the entire room shifted.

“Tae!” Jungkook beamed. “Hyungs!”

Taehyung leaned closer to the phone, trying not to smile too widely. “You look... jetlagged.”

“You look... like you haven’t moved from the couch in three days,” Jungkook fired back with a grin.

The room burst out laughing. They spent nearly an hour on the call, telling stories, teasing Jungkook about his new neighborhood, asking if he’d made friends yet. Taehyung didn’t talk much, but he listened, eyes never leaving the screen.

Near the end of the call, when everyone else had gotten distracted passing around snacks, Jungkook whispered quietly, “You okay, Tae?”

Taehyung blinked slowly. “Not really,” he murmured. “But I will be.”

Jungkook gave him a soft smile. “We’ll get through this.”

Taehyung nodded. “We always do.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

A Month Later

Taehyung woke up earlier these days. Some mornings were heavy, quiet tea sips with his phone against his chest, waiting for Jungkook to text “Good morning” from a timezone away.

The texts always came.

Sometimes late, sometimes sleepy.

But always with love.

Three Months Later

The group adjusted slowly. They joked about having an honorary seat for Jungkook during lunch. Taehyung still sent him photos of random things, and Jungkook responded with the snowy streets outside his new home. They missed each other in the small ways: missed glances across the library, the shared snacks during breaks, the way Jungkook would always wait for Taehyung just to walk together.

Six Months Later

Their first real fight happened.

It was late, over a failed video call, too many assignments, too much distance.

“Are we even okay anymore?” Taehyung had asked softly.

Jungkook had bitten back tears. “We’re just… tired.”

But the next day, they were back, voice messages, quiet apologies, soft reminders, I still choose you.

A Year Later

Jungkook flew home for the summer.

Taehyung was waiting at the airport, tapping his foot and pretending not to be nervous.

When Jungkook came out of arrivals, bags dragging behind him, Taehyung nearly tackled him in a hug.

“Hi,” Jungkook mumbled into Taehyung’s neck.

“I missed you,” Taehyung whispered. “So much…”

They kissed like the time hadn’t passed.

Second Year, Third Year

Life moved on.

Classes got harder, internships started, responsibilities pulled at everyone in different directions. But the group stayed together. Late-night calls, endless memes in the group chat.

While Taehyung and Jungkook fought more, sometimes over jealousy, sometimes over nothing at all. But they always came back. Love isn’t always quiet. Sometimes it’s messy, stubborn, and relentless.

Now, Final Year of University.

The campus was familiar now, seasoned, worn with memories.

Taehyung stood by the vending machines, sipping banana milk as he waited for the others to arrive. He looked older, more mature, more sure. His phone buzzed.

Baby: You awake yet, sleepyhead? [8:23 AM]

He smiled.

From behind him, Jimin shouted, “Still texting your long-distance boyfriend? We get it, you’re loyal.”

Taehyung turned, scoffing. “You’re just jealous he still looks better than all of us combined.”

Yoongi passed by, muttering, “It’s tragic, really. All this commitment.”

“Shut up,” Hoseok laughed. “They’ve lasted longer than some marriages.”

And Taehyung didn’t say anything.

Because yes, there were days when they almost gave up. Days when the silence was too loud and the ache too heavy. But they didn’t. They held on. And now, with one year left before graduation, a quiet promise lingered between them.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The world outside Taehyung’s window was asleep, blanketed in midnight hush and slow-drifting clouds. Inside, the only sound was the soft tick of the wall clock, and the occasional clink of his spoon against the chipped ceramic of a cold chamomile tea. He was still wearing the hoodie Jungkook had once left behind, the one with the loose sleeve cuffs and the faint scent of vanilla that had long since faded.

Taehyung stared at his laptop, the glowing screen casting a pale blue hue across his tired features. His Zoom window was open, the call waiting. He leaned back against his headboard and breathed out through his nose, nerves curling inside his chest like cold smoke.

The screen flickered. A soft beep. Then, Jungkook’s face appeared.

He looked older, more matured, his hair was longer now, falling over his forehead in tousled strands. The background behind him was unfamiliar, in a country far away. His eyes didn’t brighten like they used to when he saw Taehyung’s name.

“Hey baby,” Taehyung said softly, voice as gentle as a feather landing on a still lake.

“Hey, hyung.” Jungkook gave a tired smile. “Sorry, I– I had to do other things...”

“It’s okay,” Taehyung replied, even though it wasn’t. “I get it.”

Jungkook rubbed his eyes and leaned back, his gaze flicking off-screen, as though his thoughts were already elsewhere.

“Did you eat?” Taehyung asked after a pause.

“Uh, yeah. Kind of. Grabbed some cup noodles,” Jungkook mumbled.

Taehyung pressed his lips together. “Cup noodles again?”

“I didn’t have time to cook,” Jungkook replied with a shrug, his voice dry.

“You used to text me pictures of your food…” Taehyung murmured, trying to smile. “Even the terrible ones.”

Jungkook chuckled once, low and brief. “Yeah. I guess I just got too busy.”

“You’ve been busy… a lot.”

There it was, soft, but weighted. Jungkook looked up. Their eyes met through the screen. Taehyung tucked his knees to his chest, hoodie sleeves covering his hands. “Jungkook… I know you’re working hard. I’m proud of you, I really am,” he whispered. “But it feels like I’m the only one reaching out lately. Like I’m the only one who misses us.”

“I miss you too,” Jungkook said instantly, but it sounded like muscle memory.

Taehyung’s throat tightened. “Then why does it feel like you don’t?” he whispered. “Why do you sound so far away, even when you’re right in front of me? On a screen that is.”

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “It’s not like that, Hyung. I’m just exhausted.”

“I know you are. I see it in your eyes. But that doesn’t make this any easier for me.”

The silence stretched.

“Do you still want this?” Taehyung asked, voice trembling. “Us?”

Jungkook opened his mouth. Closed it again. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he finally murmured.

Taehyung laughed bitterly. “You always knew what to say before.” His fingers hovered over the trackpad. “You’re not the same anymore,” he said quietly. “Or maybe… maybe it’s me. Maybe I’ve just been pretending we could stay the same forever.”

“Tae–”

“I’m tired, Jungkook. Tired of waiting for a reply. Tired of pretending this feels okay. I love you. But I feel like I’m holding onto something that already slipped out of your hands.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then say it.”

“Hyung…”

“Say it.”

Jungkook was silent.

Taehyung nodded slowly, blinking back the tears that blurred the screen. “That’s what I thought,” he whispered, and the heartbreak in his voice cracked through the silence like ice splitting under weight.

He reached for the mouse and clicked.

The screen went black.

A notification popped up a second later,
[1 Missed Message: Baby] “I’m sorry.”

Taehyung stared at it. The two words looked small, helpless, meaningless in the face of everything that wasn’t said.

He closed the lid of his laptop slowly, gently, as if any sudden movement would shatter the pieces of him he’d been trying to hold together.

Then he curled beneath the blanket, clutching the pillow against his chest, and finally let himself cry.

Meanwhile, at Jungkook’s, the call ended with a soft click.

The screen dimmed to black, and Jungkook stared at the reflection of his own tired eyes in the glare. The cursor blinked in silence, mocking him with the things he didn’t say. The words that sat like stone in the back of his throat.

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe for a long moment.

And then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the desk, burying his face in his hands. He stayed there, curled over like something small and fraying at the edges, as the ache in his chest bloomed fully.

“I’m tired too, hyung…” he whispered into the quiet, voice cracking. “I’m just tired in a different way.”

Outside the window, the city buzzed with neon signs and murmuring foot traffic, life moving, uncaring, as if his world hadn’t just cracked open from the inside.

He reached out, fingers trembling, and typed the only thing he could muster, “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t know if Taehyung would even read it. He wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.

Jungkook sat back in his chair and glanced around the room. It was big enough for a bed, desk, and shelf, but right now it felt too big.. A crumpled hoodie of Taehyung’s was folded neatly beside his pillow. His wall had little Polaroids taped up, some from Korea, others from photo booth strips they’d taken on their unofficial date.

Each night, he stared at those pictures before bed like a prayer.

But tonight… he couldn’t look at them. Not when the space between them felt so big.

He stood up slowly and walked to the mini-fridge, grabbing the last rice triangle he had. He bit into it halfheartedly, chewing through exhaustion, not hunger.

There were textbooks on the floor. Deadlines on the calendar. An email from his professor asking about his thesis edits. And somewhere in that chaos, two part-time jobs, one at a local café, the other at a tiny bookstore on campus. He was working himself raw, not because he wanted to leave Taehyung behind, but because he needed to come back to him.

Because Jungkook knew Taehyung wouldn’t ask him to do that.

So every sleepless night. Every shift after lectures. Every meal skipped and coffee cup downed, and essay turned in at 3 a.m.

It was all for that one promise. For them.

But now, hearing Taehyung say “You’re not the same anymore”, it made him feel like the version of himself that he was now wasn’t enough. Like the love he was carrying in silence, while surviving, wasn’t reaching Taehyung anymore.

“I’m still yours, Tae,” he said aloud, voice breaking. “I never stopped being yours.”

He walked over to his bed and sank down onto the edge, pulling his phone to his chest. He opened his messages and hovered his thumb over Taehyung’s contact photo, a selfie Taehyung had sent of himself making a grumpy face with cheeks puffed and “come home soon” in the caption.

Jungkook never changed it. He typed. Deleted. Typed again.

And then, "I’m doing this for us. Not because I stopped loving you. But because I never stopped."

He stared at the message for a long time.

And didn’t send it.

He set the phone down, turned off the light, and lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, with one arm slung over his forehead like a weight.

Sleep didn’t come easy.

The house was quiet the next morning, broken only by the occasional chirp of birds outside or the hum of the heating vent.

Jungkook stirred slowly beneath the covers, eyes fluttering open with a tired breath. His muscles ached from work the night before, he’d finished close to midnight, clothes still smelling faintly of coffee beans and dish soap. He hadn’t even changed out of his work clothes, just collapsed onto the bed with a mind too full to sleep and a heart too loud to ignore.

His phone buzzed weakly from the bedside table.

He blinked at it, then rolled over and picked it up.

7:15 AM – [Group Chat ]
Jin-hyung: JUNGKOOK!! Happy birthday, my baby bun. [7:15 AM]

Hoseok: OUR BABY IS 24 WTF where did time go??? [7:16 AM]

Jimin: Happy birthday Koo, you better let me video call you later [7:19 AM]

Yoongi: Happy bday, kid. sleep in. No excuses. [7:24 AM]

Taehyungie: Happy birthday, jungkook [7:30 AM]

He stared at that last message for longer than he meant to. It was distant. Punctuated. Safe.

Not the way his Taehyung used to say it, no teasing nickname, no emoji spam, no dumb inside jokes. Just careful. Still, he pressed his lips together, feeling something sting behind his eyes.

Then came the quiet knock on his bedroom door. “You awake?” Namjoon’s voice was soft, still rough with sleep, but grounded, the way it always was.

“Yeah,” Jungkook croaked.

Namjoon walked in with a cup of hot tea in one hand and a gentle smile on his face. He was dressed in his joggers and hoodie, glasses perched low on his nose. “Happy birthday, Kook.” He handed him the mug and sat at the edge of the bed.

Jungkook took it with both hands. “Thanks, Joonie-hyung.”

There was a pause before Namjoon studied him a bit closer. “You didn’t even remember, did you?”

“I mean… I do now,” Jungkook chuckled weakly. “Just been... a lot, I guess.”

Namjoon didn’t push. He just let out a sigh and ruffled Jungkook’s messy hair. “I told you before, you don’t have to overwork yourself, Kook. You know we’re okay. You don’t have to save the world all on your own.”

Jungkook stared into the steam rising from his tea. “I know. I just… I wanna make it back there on my own. Earn it. Not just be sent home because I’m privileged enough to afford a plane ticket.”

Namjoon leaned back slightly, eyes softening. “You’re not just privileged. You’re hardheaded, insanely driven, and stupidly humble. That’s what makes you you.”

Jungkook let out a small laugh. “I just wanna go back. That’s all.”

“I know you do.” Namjoon’s voice dropped gently. “And you will. You’ve already done more than most people your age could even imagine. I’m proud of you.”

The silence that followed was warm, comfortable. The kind you only shared with someone who knew how heavy it all could feel.

“I think he forgot,” Jungkook mumbled after a moment, eyes still on his phone.

Namjoon glanced down at the device in his hand, then at Jungkook’s face. “He didn’t forget.”

“Hm?”

“It seems you want him to message you privately instead.”

Jungkook looked up, expression fragile, eyes wide and tired. “What if this distance made him realize he doesn’t want to?”

Namjoon reached over and gripped his shoulder gently. “Then you’ll still survive. Because love doesn’t disappear just because it gets hard. And if he does still love you, and I think he does, you’ll find your way back to each other.”

Jungkook stayed quiet. Then, finally nodded.

And as Namjoon left the room, the door clicking softly behind him, Jungkook took a deep breath.

At night, outside his window was quiet, save for the occasional whisper of wind brushing against the glass panes. The huge house Namjoon and he lived in was cloaked in stillness, the kind that only seemed to amplify the weight in his chest.

Jungkook sat on his bed with his knees pulled close to his chest, his phone pressed to his palm like it was an anchor. There was frosting on the corner of his mouth from the slice of cake Namjoon had brought up earlier. He hadn’t finished it. Didn’t have the appetite for it.

Then the screen lit up, and he saw the name,

Taehyungie Calling.

His heart dropped and lifted in the same breath. He answered on the first ring. “...Hyung?” he said softly, like he wasn’t sure he deserved to say it anymore.

A pause. Then came Taehyung’s voice, low, tired, but unmistakably warm in a way that still made Jungkook’s chest ache.

“Happy birthday baby...” he said, barely above a whisper. “I was waiting all day to hear your voice. I just… didn’t know if I should call.”

Jungkook exhaled shakily, his voice tight with emotion. “I’m glad you did.”

There was a pause, not uncomfortable, just thick with everything they hadn’t said in days. “I miss you,” Taehyung finally said, his voice almost trembling. “Even when you’re just a call away. Lately, it’s felt like you were... somewhere far.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “I know.”

“I kept wondering,” Taehyung continued. “What changed? Why don’t you tell me about everything? I would’ve understood.”

Jungkook closed his eyes. His fingers curled tightly around his phone. “Because I was scared.”

Taehyung didn’t speak, he let him continue.

“I was scared that if I told you the truth, you’d look at me differently. That you’d feel like everything we built would end eventually. And I couldn’t bear to see that in your eyes.”

Jungkook leaned back against his headboard, eyes stinging. “I didn’t want to be the reason you started counting down the days instead of living them.”

Taehyung’s breath hitched.

“You’re not... you're not the only one hurting, Tae,” Jungkook whispered. “I miss you every single day. I see your messages and I want to say more, to tell you everything, but then I remember how temporary everything feels and I just... I shut down. I didn’t know how to say it.”

“Say it now,” Taehyung murmured. “Please.”

Jungkook nodded even though Taehyung couldn’t see. “I’m working part-time while finishing my last year. Not because Namjoon-hyung can’t support me, he can. But I want to save on my own. Because after we graduate… I’m planning to come back. Right…?”

Taehyung froze on the other end of the line.

“I want to be with you, hyung,” Jungkook continued, voice cracking. “Not just through screens and phone calls. I want to share mornings with you. I want to hear your voice while you cook. I want to be there, really there.”

A soft sound escaped Taehyung, like a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“I’ve been saving every cent,” Jungkook whispered. I didn’t tell you because... I didn’t want to give you hope unless I was sure.”

“You idiot,” Taehyung said suddenly, and Jungkook blinked.

“What?”

“You idiot,” he repeated, but his voice was trembling, not angry. “Do you really think I would’ve been disappointed in you? I would’ve waited for you no matter how long it took, Jungkook. Even if you didn’t come back for years. Even if you changed your mind halfway through, I’d still love you.”

Jungkook’s lips parted in disbelief.

“I was never scared of the time,” Taehyung went on, voice breaking. “I was scared of you shutting me out. That’s the only thing that would’ve hurt me. And you did, Koo. But I understand now.”

Jungkook let out a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. For shutting down. For making you feel like you weren’t part of the future I was fighting for.”

“I forgive you,” Taehyung murmured. “But next time... let me carry the fear with you, okay?”

A beat of silence. Then, “I love you, Taehyung-hyung.”

And Taehyung let out a broken, relieved laugh. “I love you, too, Baby. Even when you’re the dumbest genius I’ve ever loved.”

They stayed on the line for hours after that, talking, joking softly, letting the walls between them fall again.

And when Jungkook finally fell asleep with the call still connected, Taehyung’s voice was the last thing he heard.

Not the distance. Not the ticking clock.

Just him.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

It wasn’t raining, but the wind carried a sharp chill as it weaved through the towering brick buildings of the Dutch university courtyard. Tulips lined the walkways like brushstrokes in a painting, blooming boldly beneath a pale blue sky.

Jungkook adjusted the collar of his robe, his fingers slightly trembling as he reached for the square cap tucked under his arm. His name had been called ten minutes ago. The diploma was warm in his hands. Still fresh. Still unbelievable. The crowd buzzed around him, students hugging, families laughing, phones held high to capture the end of an era. He stood in the middle of it all, momentarily still, like time had paused just for him to breathe.

Namjoon appeared at his side with a grin and two cups of coffee. “Still alive?”

Jungkook gave a weak chuckle. “Barely.”

Namjoon handed him a cup. “You did it, Kook. I'm proud of you.”

He took it. “Thanks, hyung. For… everything.”

Namjoon smiled warmly, ruffling his hair despite the cap. “Let’s not get sentimental now. You'll cry when you’re on the plane.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched into a smile, but his eyes darted quickly to the phone peeking from his pocket.

“Still nothing?” Namjoon asked, nodding toward it knowingly.

Jungkook shook his head. “He said he'd be busy all day. Got some things to do.”

“Doesn’t mean he isn’t watching,” Namjoon said as he stepped back to let another student’s parent take a photo nearby. “I know Taehyung.”

Jungkook didn’t reply. He knew it too. He knew that Taehyung had likely watched the live stream with furrowed brows and glossy eyes, probably chewing on his lip to keep from crying on the spot. But he still missed his voice.

Until the phone in his pocket buzzed.
[Incoming Video Call: Taehyungie]

Jungkook blinked once before quickly accepting, stepping away from the crowd, and lifting the phone to his face.

“Hi baby,” Taehyung said, breathless, his face filling the screen, cheeks flushed like he’d been running.

“Hyung…” Jungkook couldn’t help it, his smile bloomed instantly.

“You looked so good walking up there,” Taehyung said, voice soft and proud. “That robe’s too big, but you still made it look cute.”

“I tripped going up the stairs,” Jungkook mumbled with a bashful smile. “Pretty sure someone recorded it.”

“I’d like to see that video.”

Jungkook chuckled, his voice catching slightly as he looked at Taehyung’s face. The background was a blur, maybe his house, maybe the campus music room. But it didn’t matter.

“I wish you were here,” Jungkook murmured. “It doesn’t feel complete.”

Taehyung's smile wavered, soft and bittersweet. “I know. But we’ve waited this long. A few more weeks, and you’ll be on your way home.”

Jungkook nodded, eyes damp. “Few more weeks.”

Taehyung leaned a little closer to the screen. “Can I tell you something stupid?”

“Always.”

“I might have cried when your name was called– Just a little–” Taehyung admitted. “Even though I wasn’t there to hear it in person. You’ve worked so hard. Even when you didn’t have to. You made me so proud today, Jungkook.”

Jungkook looked down, blinking fast. “I did it for you.”

“No,” Taehyung said softly. “You did it for you too.”

Jungkook let that sink in as the wind curled gently around his ankles, his robe flapping lightly behind him. The buildings, the tulips, the foreign skyline, it had all become familiar. But it was never home. Home was waiting for him in a city across the sea. With honey brown eyes and soft hands that always knew how to hold him, no matter the time zone.

And now, just a few more weeks away.

The gold-trimmed invitation sat half-folded on his desk, corners slightly bent from how many times Taehyung had opened and closed it. The words Department of Music and Arts, Class of 2029 shimmered beneath the sunlight that spilled through his window. Taehyung stared at it in silence.

“Are you nervous?” Jimin’s voice came from the other end.

Taehyung didn’t answer right away. His eyes were still on the invitation.

“Not nervous,” he muttered, rubbing the side of his neck. “It’s just… weird. It’s ending.”

“You mean college?”

He nodded, then added, quieter, “And he’s not going to be here.”

Jimin’s grin faltered. Hoseok, Jin, and Yoongi, all seated around them on the wooden benches, looked over, exchanging concerned glances.

“Jungkook?” Jin asked softly.

Taehyung bit his lip and gave a small nod. “He said he probably can’t make it in time. There’s some paperwork, and flights… He said he’d try.”

Jimin frowned. “Oh well… I know how much it meant to you. I thought for sure he’d be here.”

Taehyung shrugged, trying to play it off, even though his voice had grown thinner. “He said he’s proud of me. That’s enough.”

The others didn’t say anything more, their silence a quiet support.

The day arrived. Warm air clung to the spring breeze as students flooded the university courtyard, arms filled with flowers, caps crooked on windswept heads. Flashbulbs popped, laughter echoed, and the smell of perfume and aftershave blended with the faint scent of paint from the nearby studio halls.

Taehyung stood just off-stage, cap in hand, his heart beating unevenly. He scanned the crowd once again, half of him still hoping, still foolish.

Nothing.

Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, and Jimin sat together nearby on the benches, cheering when they spotted him, waving little handmade signs Jimin had clearly forced everyone to participate in. “TAE TAE SUPREMACY!” one read, complete with glittery smiley stickers.

Taehyung managed a smile. He loved them. Obviously.

Still, his eyes searched for one more face.

But Jungkook wasn’t there.

On the other hand, a day earlier. The plane hit the tarmac with a jolt, and Jungkook’s head snapped forward despite the seatbelt. His heart was thudding too fast, and his legs bounced as the pilot gave the usual landing speech in Korean. He didn’t hear any of it. All he could think about was the time.

He had told Namjoon. But he wanted this to be a secret for the others, not for drama, but because it had been too long. Too many video calls. Too many half-laughed goodnights and blurry pictures sent through different time zones.

Taehyung had waited for him for years.

He wanted to give this back.

By the time Jungkook slipped through the back of the campus courtyard, the ceremony was already underway. He wore a low cap, a mask, and a hoodie under his coat, low-key but anxious, eyes flicking from face to face.

Then he saw him.

Taehyung, standing on the stage, chin held high despite the flicker of sadness behind his eyes. The sunlight hit his hair just right, gold dust spilling down a statue’s shoulders. His name was called.

“Kim Taehyung.”

The crowd clapped. Their friends whistled and yelled from the back. And Taehyung bowed, graceful and polite, smile fixed.

But he didn’t know Jungkook was there.

Not yet.

After the ceremony, Taehyung stood with the others, arms filled with blooms of lilies and sunflowers, petals brushing against his sleeves as if they, too, were trying to comfort him. The bouquet crinkled faintly in his grip, the stems cool against his trembling fingers. The cardboard sleeve of a Starbucks drink peeked out from between the stems, a ridiculous medal of honor shoved into his arms by Hoseok just moments before.

“You looked cool,” Jin grinned, pulling Taehyung into a side hug that felt like warmth and congratulations and distraction all at once. “Like, intimidatingly cool. That suit? Insane.”

“I cried,” Jimin announced proudly, dabbing the corner of his eye with a napkin that had glitter stuck to it. “Like an auntie who just watched her only son get married. God, I’m so proud of us!”

The group erupted in laughter, Yoongi shaking his head while pretending not to smile, Hoseok reaching over to fix the way Taehyung’s stole had slipped off one shoulder.

Taehyung chuckled too, playing along, letting their love wrap around him like a quilt. And yet, even beneath the noise, the teasing, the blurry phone photos, there was an ache. A hollow, unfillable place inside his chest that pulsed every time his eyes searched the crowd and found everyone but him. He tried not to show it.

Tried not to think about how he had glanced at his phone twenty-seven times that morning, hoping to see a last-minute change. A flight. A voice note. Anything. But all he had was Jungkook’s text from the night before,

"Hyung, I’m so proud of you. I’ll be watching the livestream. Wear that navy suit I love, yeah? You’ll look handsome."

And Taehyung had smiled when he read it. But it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t him.

Then, A tap on his shoulder.

Soft. Hesitant. But unmistakably real.

Taehyung turned.

And the world tilted on its axis.

There he was.

Jungkook stood just a few feet away, chest heaving with the remnants of a run, coat undone, hair windswept from wherever he had come from. His mask was lowered now, revealing the faintest flush on his cheeks and lips parted like he hadn’t yet figured out how to breathe. His eyes, round and raw, shimmered with something that made Taehyung’s heart jolt against his ribs.

A tremble rode Jungkook’s voice when he spoke, barely more than a whisper. “Hyung…”

Taehyung’s flowers slid from his arms, forgotten at his feet, petals scattering like confetti across the concrete.

“You–” he breathed, voice cracking. “You said you couldn’t–”

“I lied,” Jungkook murmured, stepping forward, gaze locked onto Taehyung’s like it anchored him. “I couldn’t miss this. Not again. Not when it’s you.”

Taehyung stared at him for a beat longer, stunned, overwhelmed, a part of him still thinking maybe this was a dream he would wake from. That this wasn’t Jungkook in front of him, heart on his sleeve and all the miles behind them collapsing into this one breathless second.

Then, he surged forward, gripping Jungkook’s coat with both hands and pulling him in until their bodies collided. His arms locked tightly around Jungkook’s waist as though afraid he might vanish again.

“I wanted to see your face,” Jungkook whispered into his ear, voice thick with emotion. “I wanted it to be this. I missed you so much, hyung. I couldn’t wait one more day.”

Taehyung pulled back just far enough to see him, really see him, eyes glassy, lip trembling. “You’re actually here.”

“You idiot,” Taehyung choked out, burying his face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck. His voice cracked on the edges of each word. “You perfect, stupid idiot. You should’ve told me. I’ve been going insane.”

Jungkook gave a breathy laugh and touched Taehyung’s cheek with fingers that still smelled faintly of airport hand sanitizer and cologne. “I’m here. For good, this time.”

“I love you,” Taehyung said, like it had waited in his chest for months.

“I love you too,” Jungkook replied without hesitation, forehead pressing gently against Taehyung’s.

The world around them blurred, until–

“WHAT THE HELL?” Hoseok shouted, pointing at Jungkook like he’d just risen from the grave.

“HE LIED TO ALL OF US?” Jin barked, scandalized and somehow proud.

Jimin gasped so loud a nearby stranger turned to look. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME– YOU ABSOLUTE SNAKE!”

Yoongi crossed his arms. “Called it,” he muttered, smirking.

“Bro–” Hoseok wheezed, still processing. “You flew halfway across the world and didn’t tell us? What is this, a K-drama?”

“Clearly,” Jimin huffed. “And we’re just the side characters.”

Jungkook let out a soft, guilty laugh, one arm still firmly around Taehyung’s waist. “Sorry, hyungs. I just… wanted him to be the first to see me.”

Taehyung glanced around at their friends, and despite their loud protests, the teasing in their eyes softened into something warm, knowing, proud.

He turned back to Jungkook. “So what now?”

Jungkook smiled.

“Now we go home.”

They said their goodbyes slowly, like they weren’t ready to let the day end, clinging to each second like it was stitched with gold. One by one, hugs were shared, numbers were reconfirmed even though they were already memorized, and Jimin insisted on taking five different group selfies from every angle, “just in case the lighting changed.”

Eventually, the group began to disperse. Hoseok dragged a reluctant Yoongi toward the car after the latter muttered something about “needing a nap from all this public emotion,” and Jin promised to call the next day for a “post-grad debriefing brunch.”

When the car doors shut, the city felt a little quieter, just the two of them now, the engine humming low beneath them.

Taehyung sat in the driver’s seat, hands still on the wheel though they hadn’t moved yet. He exhaled slowly, leaning his head back against the seat, staring at the windshield like it held constellations.

“Still feels fake,” he murmured. “Like I’ll blink and you’ll vanish.”

Jungkook smiled faintly from the passenger side, fingers fiddling with the ring on his thumb, the one Taehyung gave him on their first anniversary, engraved with the date in tiny print only they could read. “I’m here, hyung. I’m really here.”

Taehyung turned to him with a soft laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Don’t ‘hyung’ me like that. I’m still recovering from the emotional whiplash.”

There was a long pause, thick with the quiet kind of comfort that came from surviving something difficult together. Then Jungkook shifted in his seat, more serious now. His gaze dropped to his lap, thumb brushing along the seam of his jeans.

“…I need to tell you something.”

Taehyung looked over, head tilting slightly. “What is it?”

Jungkook hesitated. Then, with a breath, “I got here yesterday.”

Taehyung blinked. “What?”

“I arrived a day early,” Jungkook said, looking up at him now. “I didn’t come straight to campus today.”

Taehyung’s brows pulled together. “Wait– what do you mean? Where were you?”

“I checked into an apartment,” Jungkook admitted, voice quiet but steady. “I… I wanted to surprise you, yeah, but I also needed to get a few things in order. Just– settle down a little. I was nervous.”

Taehyung stared at him, processing. “So you’ve been here? Since yesterday?”

Jungkook nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

There was a pause. Taehyung didn’t speak, just kept looking at him, and Jungkook rushed on, eyes wide, almost apologetic.

“I wasn’t trying to lie to you. I just– I wanted to do this right. I didn’t want to show up and have nowhere to go or no plan. I’ve… I’ve been saving up. Working. You remember that kindergarten I used to talk about in the Netherlands?”

Taehyung nodded silently.

“I ended up getting a job there during my last year,” Jungkook said, and now there was a small smile playing on his lips, proud, soft. “It paid well, actually. And I loved it. I want to try applying here too. Maybe even start somewhere else.”

Taehyung was still quiet. He leaned back slightly, hand reaching over the gear stick to rest gently over Jungkook’s.

“You’ve been planning this,” he whispered.

Jungkook nodded. “Every day.”

Taehyung’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. His thumb brushed over the back of Jungkook’s hand, slowly, like a painter feeling out a canvas. “I thought you were still trying to figure things out,” he said, voice low. “I didn’t expect you to come back so… prepared.”

“I didn’t want to ask for anything,” Jungkook murmured. “I mean, Namjoon-hyung always said I didn’t have to worry about money, and I know I could’ve– but I didn’t want to take that for granted. I wanted this to be something I earned. Coming home. Coming back to you.”

Taehyung let out a breath that shook slightly at the edges. He blinked fast, once, twice, looking away as if trying to gather himself.

Then he turned to Jungkook again, eyes shining with something full and unspeakable. “You’re ridiculous,” he whispered, eyes damp. “You do all this, surprise me, lie to all of us, and then you tell me in my car like it’s nothing.”

Jungkook chuckled softly. “I didn’t want to ruin your moment. Today was about you.”

Taehyung stared at him and then leaned in slowly, resting his forehead against Jungkook’s. “I’m so glad you’re back,” he whispered.

“Me too,” Jungkook breathed.

They stayed like that for a long time. Just breathing. Just existing.

Taehyung had insisted on going to Jungkook’s apartment first, and as the car pulled up, the soft glow of the building’s lights spilled onto the quiet street. The place was modest but cozy, just big enough for two, an intimate space that felt carefully made, a sanctuary Jungkook had built for himself.

Jungkook unlocked the door, his fingers trembling slightly, and stepped inside. Taehyung followed silently, taking in the small living room, the neatly arranged kitchen, the few personal touches, a framed photo of the two of them, a stack of books on the shelf, and there were still boxes left on the floor, but the soft lighting that made everything feel warm and safe.

“You did good,” Taehyung said quietly, his voice low, almost reverent. His gaze lingered on Jungkook, eyes full of something tender and unspoken.

Jungkook shrugged, cheeks flushed. “It’s not much. But it’s mine.”

The silence stretched between them, full of anticipation. Taehyung took a step closer, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from Jungkook’s face. His touch was feather-light, gentle.

Then, without another word, Taehyung leaned down, pressing his lips softly against Jungkook’s. The kiss was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, soft, warm, searching.

Jungkook’s breath hitched, heart pounding in his chest. Slowly, he leaned into the kiss, melting into the quiet need in Taehyung’s arms. The kiss deepened, urgency creeping in, turning soft affection into something raw and desperate. Taehyung’s hands slid around Jungkook’s waist, pulling him closer like he was afraid to let go.

Jungkook wrapped his arms around Taehyung’s neck, fingers threading through his hair, anchoring himself to the moment, to the person who’d become his home. When they finally broke apart, foreheads resting together, breaths mingling in the still air, he whispered, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Taehyung's eyes closed as relief and hope surged through him. “Me neither. I’m home.”

Later, Jungkook moved over to the small living room, gesturing toward the worn but comfortable sofa. Taehyung, still draped in his graduation gown, robes that had felt so heavy and formal just hours ago, let out a tired sigh and sank into the cushions. The fabric of the gown rustled softly as he shifted, the ceremonial colors clashing with the cozy, lived-in feel of the apartment. It was an odd sight, Taehyung in all his proud, official glory, here in this quiet, intimate space that belonged to Jungkook.

He sat beside him, fiddling with the hem of his own shirt, hesitant at first but driven by the quiet urgency in his heart. “How are you?” he asked gently, eyes searching Taehyung’s face for an honest answer.

Taehyung’s gaze dropped to his hands resting on his lap, fingers curling into the fabric of his gown. For a moment, he didn’t answer, just breathed in and out, the weight of everything between them hanging heavy.

“I’m… okay,” Taehyung finally said, voice low, rough with unshed emotion. “Still living at my mom's house. It’s empty most days now, though. Feels too quiet sometimes.”

Jungkook nodded slowly, understanding threading through his chest. “I guess it’s not easy, being there alone.”

“No,” Taehyung admitted. His eyes flicked up to meet Jungkook’s, soft and vulnerable beneath the stoic exterior. “But I’m used to it, probably.”

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away before settling back on Taehyung’s face. The soft glow of the living room lamp cast warm shadows, making the space feel safe.

“Um,” he began quietly, voice just above a whisper, “if you want… you could live here. With me.” His cheeks tinged faint pink as he spoke, nerves fluttering beneath the surface. “And you can still go over to your house whenever you want, I mean… It’s not really yours anyway, right? It’s your mom’s place.”

Taehyung blinked, surprise softening his features. The offer hung gently between them, like the promise of something new, something hopeful. “I… I didn’t know you felt that way,” he said slowly, voice thick but warm. “It sounds… really nice.”

Jungkook nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I mean, I want you to feel at home. Not just here,” he said, gesturing around the apartment, “but with me.”

Taehyung’s eyes glimmered in the low light. For a moment, he was quiet, then he smiled, small, genuine, and full of something tender that made Jungkook’s heart skip.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that,” Taehyung murmured. “Sometimes, I think I need a place that’s just ours.”

Jungkook reached out again, this time brushing a loose strand of hair from Taehyung’s forehead with gentle fingers. The closeness between them deepened, quiet and real, wrapping around them like a soft blanket on a chilly night.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

After more than three years apart, minus that one time he went back for the summer, the moment their lips met again felt like both a spark and a soft warmth blooming slowly through Jungkook’s chest. Taehyung’s kiss was gentle at first, tentative as if testing the waters, but with each passing second, it grew needier, desperate to make up for all the lost time.

Jungkook’s cheeks flamed a deep, rosy red, so much more than before. His usual shyness wrapped around him like a familiar blanket, fluttering in his stomach, making his heart race faster than he could catch up with. When they finally pulled away, his eyes flickered down, avoiding Taehyung’s gaze for a heartbeat, but his smile was shy and soft.

“It’s been a long time,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, filled with the weight of everything unsaid.

Taehyung chuckled quietly, brushing a loose strand of hair from Jungkook’s face. “Yeah. Too long.”

The weeks that followed drifted by gently, like a warm breeze after a storm. Jungkook threw himself into making the apartment feel like home, assembling furniture, hanging lights, picking out soft cushions and curtains, each little detail carefully chosen to build a space that felt theirs.

Taehyung would often find Jungkook crouched over a tiny wrench or unpacking a box of new things, and he’d smile softly, watching how Jungkook’s nervous energy transformed into quiet determination. They spent evenings cooking simple meals together, talking about everything and nothing, slowly weaving their lives back together.

Then one afternoon, the phone rang, Jimin’s name flashing on the screen. After catching up on how Jungkook was settling in, Jimin made an offer that made Jungkook’s heart skip.

“I might have a job for you,” Jimin said, voice bright with encouragement. “At the kindergarten I work at. They’re looking for someone kind and patient, and I think you’d be perfect.”

Oh right, Jimin and he wanted to do the same thing. Well–

Jungkook hesitated, then felt a swell of hope rising. “Really? You think I could do it?”

“Of course,” Jimin replied warmly. “You’ve got that gentle way with kids, trust me, they’d love you. And it’d be a good start here.”

Jungkook smiled, feeling something settle deep inside him, a feeling of possibility, of finally building a life not just for himself, but with Taehyung by his side.

Taehyung stepped into Jungkook’s apartment carrying a small bag, his shoes left neatly by the door. The air smelled faintly of fresh paint and new furniture, a quiet testament to how much effort Jungkook had poured into making this place a home.

Just hours before, Taehyung had finished cleaning his mom’s house, his old refuge, now slowly fading from his everyday life, before accepting Jungkook’s invitation to live together. It was a new beginning for both of them, and though Taehyung’s heart fluttered nervously, there was relief too, knowing he wasn’t alone.

“Baby,” Taehyung started, voice soft, almost hesitant. “I– I cleaned my mom’s house earlier today. You know... before I came over. Feels weird, like I’m leaving something behind.”

Jungkook smiled gently, patting the space beside him. “It’s okay, Tae. This is your home now, too, if you want it to be.”

Taehyung’s lips twitched into a small, grateful smile, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” Jungkook continued, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “About the future… about work. I talked to Jimin yesterday. He... he offered me a job at the kindergarten where he works.”

The older boy’s eyebrows lifted, and a genuine warmth spread across his face. He leaned forward without thinking, cupping Jungkook’s cheek and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. “Koo, that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you. But wait, Jimin is already working–?”

Jungkook laughs a bit before his cheeks flush crimson. He swallowed hard, fingers curling around Taehyung’s wrist as if grounding himself. “I want to earn this... on my own. I don’t want to just depend on anyone.”

Taehyung chuckled, voice low and tender. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, you know that, right? But seeing you chase your dreams like this… It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed.” For a long moment, they just sat close, breathing in the quiet intimacy of the room, the hum of the city outside, the beating of two hearts trying to find their rhythm again.

Then his eyes drifted, catching the subtle differences in Taehyung. The familiar sharp tongue was still there, taunts and jokes that once stung now felt like an old song, comforting in its constancy. But Taehyung’s usual scowl had softened into a smile that reached all the way to his eyes. The walls he used to build around himself seemed thinner, cracks showing glimpses of vulnerability beneath.

Jungkook’s heart squeezed with something tender and hopeful. This was the Taehyung he loved, the same, yet somehow more open, more present. More ready.

“I’ve missed this,” Jungkook whispered, voice shaky. “You’re different... but you’re still you.”

Taehyung’s smile deepened, and he pulled Jungkook close, arms wrapping protectively around him. “I’ve missed you, too. I’m still figuring things out... but I want to figure it out with you.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Chapter Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Taehyung stood at the threshold of Jungkook’s apartment, no, their apartment now, clutching a small suitcase in one hand and a bag of takeout in the other. His shoulders were stiff from the long day, his eyes tired but glowing. Behind him, the hallway echoed with the distant sound of elevators and muffled footsteps.

Ahead, the door was slightly ajar, left unlocked for him. When he nudged it open with his foot, the soft scent of freshly brewed tea greeted him.

“I’m home,” he called out, voice a little breathless.

Jungkook peeked from the kitchen, a dish towel slung over his shoulder and flour dusting his hands. “Hey,” he smiled, and it was the kind that tugged at something soft in Taehyung’s chest. “Perfect timing. I just finished making banana bread.”

Taehyung took off his shoes and set down the bag carefully. He took a deep breath, glancing around the apartment that had slowly transformed over the last few weeks into something cozy and lived in, something shared.

The framed photo of the two of them at Taehyung's graduation now sat on the shelf by the window. A single potted cactus stood proudly on the kitchen counter, placed there by Taehyung after he jokingly insisted the apartment needed “spiky personality.”

Jungkook watched him from the kitchen, towel still in hand. “So... how’d it go with your mom?”

Taehyung ran his fingers through his hair, a tired chuckle leaving him. “She asked if you still had that ridiculous purple hoodie you used to wear.”

“The one with the dancing bears?”

“The one she said made you look like a cult leader, yes.”

They both laughed. Jungkook set down the towel and walked over, reaching for Taehyung’s bag instinctively.

“She was happy for me,” Taehyung said after a beat, voice quieter. “I told her... I'm moving in with you. She didn’t ask if it was permanent. Just said she hopes you feed me properly and let me keep my side of the room clean.”

Jungkook's hands stilled on the zipper of the suitcase. “So... this is really happening.”

Taehyung looked up at him, eyes calm. “Yeah. This is home now.”

They stood like that for a moment, just looking at each other, the gentle hum of the kitchen clock ticking off the seconds around them. Then Jungkook stepped aside and gestured down the hallway. “I got your room ready. You can decorate it however you want. But… you know. The bed in mine is big enough for two.”

Taehyung followed, suitcase rolling softly across the floor. The hallway was lit by warm-toned lights Jungkook had carefully picked from a home store sale two weeks ago. When they reached the second door on the left, Jungkook pushed it open.

It was simple, but cozy. Cream walls. A freshly made bed. An empty desk waiting to be filled. A closet already half-stocked with hangers.

“I figured we’d give each other space,” Jungkook murmured, lingering in the doorway. “But it doesn’t mean we have to be apart, you know? If you want to be with me–”

“I know,” Taehyung cut in softly, turning around. “And I like it this way. I like having a door to open. And a bed to crawl into after a long day. But mostly, I like that I can walk down the hallway... and find you there.”

Jungkook flushed slightly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“So,” the older boy continued, raising a brow, “do I get a welcome kiss, or do I have to sleep in here all alone like some sort of exile?”

Jungkook laughed quietly and delicately, taking a step forward. “You’re not exiled,” he said, resting his forehead gently against Taehyung’s. “You’re home.”

Their kiss was unhurried. Familiar, but threaded with the sweet weight of new. Of shared rent and early morning routines. Of toothbrushes lined up beside each other and Sunday grocery lists. Of comfort. Of choosing each other again, now that the distance was gone.

Later that night, after dinner and after unpacking just one of the many boxes, Taehyung wandered into Jungkook’s room barefoot, wearing a too-big white shirt and pajama pants. He didn’t say anything, just crawled under the sheets beside him and rested his cheek against Jungkook’s shoulder.

“This place feels like us,” Taehyung whispered.

Jungkook turned to him, brushing a lock of hair from his eyes. “That’s because it is.”

And in the hush between midnight and morning, their breathing found rhythm again, steady, quiet, and home.

The apartment was washed in a peachy morning hue. The sound of the kettle filled the kitchen, and Jungkook, half awake, half trembling with nerves, stood in front of the bedroom mirror, smoothing the pleats of his soft cream-colored dress.

It was modest but sweet, with soft puffed sleeves, a slightly flared skirt, and a rounded collar dotted with embroidered daisies. Paired with ankle socks and pale pink Mary Janes, he looked every bit the gentle presence he wanted to be for the children.

His lip was pulled between his teeth as he adjusted a thin hairband in his wavy brown locks. “It’s too much,” he muttered to himself. “I look like I’m playing teacher, not being one.”

“You look like a fairytale…” came a voice behind him, rough with sleep but full of certainty.

Jungkook turned quickly. Taehyung leaned against the doorway, still in his loose navy sweatshirt and sweatpants, his hair tousled into gentle curls. He blinked slowly, lips curved in a soft smile that crinkled his eyes.

“Hyung,” Jungkook mumbled, pink rushing to his cheeks.

“You’re adorable,” Taehyung said, stepping closer and placing a gentle hand at Jungkook’s waist. “I mean it. The kids are gonna go feral.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring,” Jungkook muttered, cheeks flushed.

Taehyung snorted. “Just don’t let them steal your heart, alright?” He tilted his head. “That belongs to me.”

Jungkook blinked. Then softly smiled. “Dramatic.”

Taehyung pressed a kiss to his forehead. “But true.

They left ten minutes later, Jungkook clutching his lunch bag and nervously checking his phone, and Taehyung quietly hyping him up with soft music and even softer compliments in the driver’s seat.

“I’ll drop you off and then head to my interview,” Taehyung said, fingers drumming on the steering wheel at a red light.

“You’re not nervous?” he asked, glancing over.

Taehyung shook his head with a breath of false confidence. “I’m trembling inside.”

“Same.”

“I mean– it’s just an internship,” Taehyung added, shrugging. “But the foundation’s cool. Youth Arts Seoul. They help high school students explore music and visual arts, even kids from underfunded districts.”

Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “That’s perfect for you.”

Taehyung gave a tiny, proud nod. “It’s not performing, but I’d get to direct, conceptualize, mentor… which feels right. Still in the music world, just different.”

“You’re gonna get it,” Jungkook said softly. “You’re really good with messy souls and loud hearts.”

Taehyung blinked at him for a second before laughing under his breath. “You’re such a poet sometimes.”

Jungkook shrugged shyly, but didn’t deny it.

When they finally pulled up in front of the kindergarten, Jungkook’s heart was beating so fast he could feel it in his fingertips. The building looked warm and welcoming, painted in soft colors, with little rainbow wind chimes by the gates.

“You okay?” Taehyung asked, turning to him with concern.

Jungkook nodded. “Just… first-day jitters. What if they hate me?”

“They won’t.”

“Or think I’m too weird-looking?”

“Too pretty, maybe,” Taehyung corrected. “They’ll love you, baby. Just be the sweet idiot you are. They’ll imprint on you like baby ducks.”

Jungkook let out a startled laugh, chest loosening. Taehyung reached out, gently brushing Jungkook’s fringe back. “You’re going to be incredible.”

There was a pause, soft and honey-thick.

“…Will you pick me up later?” Jungkook asked, eyes wide.

“If you don’t run off with the kids, sure.”

Jungkook leaned over, heart fluttering, and kissed him, just a little peck, short and bashful, but one that made Taehyung’s breath catch.

Then he stepped out.

Taehyung watched as Jungkook walked through the gate, a little stiff at first, until a child waved at him and he waved back, that bunny smile unfolding across his face.

Taehyung didn’t drive off until Jungkook disappeared inside.

Later that day, after both had finished their respective things, Taehyung’s interview went well, the director even said his music portfolio was “sincere and cinematic,” and Jungkook got hugged by a child who drew him as a flower fairy, they sat side by side in the car.

“I got the job,” Taehyung said first, not looking at him but smiling a bit.

“I got glitter in my hair,” Jungkook responded, showing him the drawing.

Taehyung burst into soft laughter, “You’re ridiculous,” he grinned, kissing the side of his face.

“You too, hyung,” Jungkook said softly.

After they arrived at their apartment with Jungkook dropping his bag with a sigh so long it echoed with the weight of finger paints, glitter glue, and a dozen tiny voices all calling his name. He had smiled the whole way home, though, especially when Taehyung said nothing and simply reached over to hold his hand the entire drive back.

Then later, the warm scent of curry floated through the apartment, mingling with the soft jazz music that played lazily from the Bluetooth speaker on the kitchen counter. Taehyung stirred the pot with one hand, resting the other against the edge of the stove as he half-listened for the sound of Jungkook padding back into the living room.

"Hey," Taehyung called out, voice just loud enough to carry past the hallway. "Are you still alive, kindergarten princess?"

From the hallway came a muffled giggle. Then, the click of a door closing and soft footsteps approaching.

"I'm not a princess," Jungkook said sheepishly as he emerged into the living room.

Taehyung turned, and promptly choked.

Jungkook stood there with damp hair tucked behind one ear, cheeks still flushed from the hot shower. He was wearing one of Taehyung’s biggest sweaters, an oversized brown knit that swallowed his frame and slipped off one bare shoulder, and a pair of tiny white cotton shorts that barely peeked out from beneath the hem. His legs were smooth, pale, and utterly unbothered.

He blinked at Taehyung. “Why are you staring?”

"I'm–" Taehyung cleared his throat, gripping the ladle a little too hard. "Not."

“You are.”

“I’m allowed to look at my boyfriend when he’s–” he waved vaguely, “–dressed like he’s starring in a domestic fantasy manga.”

Jungkook laughed and walked over, completely unaware of how the soft bounce of his steps made Taehyung’s brain flicker like a dying router.

“Are you okay, hyung?” Jungkook asked, tilting his head as he leaned on the counter, chin propped up on his hands. “You look a little pink.”

“I’m cooking,” Taehyung snapped, a little too fast. “I’m warm.”

Jungkook only smiled, sweet and clueless. “It smells good.”

Taehyung didn’t respond at first because he was busy watching Jungkook’s legs shift as he tiptoed to peek at the pot. He hissed and turned back to the stove like a man clinging to sanity.

When he finally did speak, it came out in that careful, casual tone of his. “So... how was it?”

“Huh?”

“Your first day.” Taehyung flicked his eyes back over. “You know. With the kids. Paint explosions. Toddler tears. All that.”

Jungkook beamed. “It was amazing, actually. Exhausting, but– really sweet? One of them told me I smell like candy. And another kept trying to braid my sleeve.”

Taehyung snorted. “You probably do smell like candy. All that vanilla conditioner.”

“…You’re just mad I smell better than you.”

“I’m mad you look like that while being sweet and smelling like that,” Taehyung muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He turned off the stove and stepped away, wiping his hands on a towel before walking around the counter.

Jungkook blinked up at him as Taehyung came close. Too close. His breath caught when Taehyung bent down, just slightly, and pressed a smooch to his cheek. Then another to his other cheek. Then his nose.

“Hyung…” Jungkook’s voice was small, flustered.

“What?” Taehyung muttered, though his ears were tinged red. “I’m just saying ‘good job.’ On your first day. Idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Jungkook whispered, voice barely above a puff of air.

“Fine. You're just an airhead with legs.”

“You like my legs,” Jungkook challenged softly, and then turned on his heel to go fetch his water bottle from the kitchen shelf, completely missing how Taehyung froze behind him like he’d just been punched in the gut.

Taehyung stared at him.

At the way the hem of the sweater bounced. At how those shorts should be illegal.

At how Jungkook was now humming a lullaby from class as he poured himself some water, like he didn’t just melt every molecule of Taehyung’s brain by existing in the same room.

Taehyung sat down slowly at the dining table and exhaled. Loudly. "I need to calm down,” he muttered.

“What?” Jungkook called out from the sink.

“Nothing!” Taehyung barked back, slapping his palm over his eyes. “Just– hurry up. Let’s eat before I combust.”

Ah there he is, the stubborn attitude. But right now he’s actually nice about it.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

It had already been a few weeks since Jungkook started working at the kindergarten. He’d settled into his routine, early mornings, tiny shoes, sticky fingers, soft voices, tears, and laughter. Some days felt like sunshine. Others, like today, felt like a storm that refused to pass.

By the time his shift ended, Jungkook’s body ached, not from the usual classroom chaos, but from a long day filled with toddler tears, one dramatic crayon war, and a surprisingly strong bite from a four-year-old named Eli who really didn’t want to share. Glitter clung to his hair, his socks were slightly mismatched, and his cardigan had a suspicious stain he chose not to investigate.

But still, he smiled softly as he stepped out of the kindergarten gate at exactly 5:00 p.m., expecting to see the familiar sleek black car waiting by the curb.

He tugged his tote bag a little tighter against his shoulder, eyes scanning the road.

No Taehyung.

It was fine. He checked the time again. 5:03.

He hummed quietly, tapping the toe of his shoe against the pavement.

5:07.

The soft drizzle began just as he pulled his phone from his pocket. Still no messages. No calls. He refreshed twice. Nothing.

By 5:12, the drizzle had thickened into rain, falling in light sheets that clung to his pastel coat and settled into the folds of his scarf. He hadn’t brought an umbrella. Taehyung had said he would pick him up. He always did.

Jungkook looked down at his feet. A small puddle was forming near his shoes.

At 5:18, he called.

Once.

No answer.

He didn’t leave a voicemail. He just tucked the phone away and pulled his cardigan sleeves over his hands.

He wasn’t angry. Not really.

By the time he reached their apartment, his shoes were soaked, his bangs were dripping into his eyes, and he was shivering, his arms wrapped around himself as he unlocked the door with trembling fingers.

The apartment was quiet and warm. He kicked off his wet shoes and padded inside, dropping his bag by the entrance and heading straight for the bathroom without a word.

But he didn’t smile either.

Not when he peeled off his wet clothes.

Not when he stood under the hot water until the mirror fogged and the world went blurry.

It was nearly 7 when the door creaked open slowly, hinges whispering into the quiet apartment as Taehyung stepped inside. He didn’t bother calling out again. The lights were on. The air was warm. And still, everything felt... cold.

His throat tightened the moment he turned the corner.

Jungkook was sitting at the kitchen table, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, legs drawn up to rest against the lower rung of the chair. His bangs were still slightly damp, clinging to his forehead in uneven wisps.

The gray of his sweatpants matched the clouded sky outside, and his hoodie, soft, oversized, a pale blue Taehyung remembered buying him, was bunched slightly at the cuffs where Jungkook had been tugging at them

A cup of tea sat in front of him, barely touched. The steam had long since stopped rising.

He didn’t look up.

Taehyung’s heart cracked in quiet places. “Baby…”

Still nothing.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, stepping closer. His voice wavered around the edges. “I know I said I’d come.”

Jungkook’s fingers curled tighter around the fabric of his sleeves, head tilted just slightly down, hiding behind the curtain of his bangs. He wasn’t crying. But the silence clung to him the way the rain had earlier, soaked into every inch of him, dragging his shoulders low.

“You could’ve texted. One text.”

“I didn’t mean to forget,” Taehyung continued, kneeling slowly beside him. “A client dropped by last minute– one of the ones that always lingers– and by the time I checked the clock, it was already five-thirty.”

Jungkook’s lip jutted out in the slightest pout, still not saying a word. He sniffled quietly, the only sound he’d made since Taehyung walked in.

Silence.

“I should’ve called,” Taehyung whispered. “I should’ve dropped everything. I promised.”

Jungkook blinked slowly, lashes wet. His eyes didn’t meet his. Just stared down at the tea like it might say the things he didn’t want to.

Still no reply. Just the faintest tremble in Jungkook’s chin, like he was holding something in but didn’t want to give it voice.

“You must’ve been freezing,” Taehyung murmured, brushing his thumb softly against the fabric.

Jungkook’s voice came out at last, barely audible. “You always wait by the gate.”

Taehyung inhaled shakily. “I know.”

“I kept checking my phone.” Jungkook’s lips pressed into a thin line. “But it didn’t ring.”

The silence that followed was soft and thick, heavy, but not sharp. Not angry. Just... disappointed. Tired. Like too much of something that had nowhere to go.

Taehyung pressed his forehead to Jungkook’s knee, guilt blooming in his chest like bruises. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

A long pause.

Then a soft, resigned exhale from Jungkook. Not forgiveness. Not yet. But not rejection either. Taehyung stood slowly and pressed a warm kiss to Jungkook’s hair, just above his temple.

“Let me do something for you?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, but he didn’t pull away either.

“Cookies,” Taehyung offered, brushing a damp strand of hair from Jungkook’s cheek. “Your favorite ones. The ones with the browned butter and sea salt. Like when you used to request after those rough Fridays.”

Jungkook’s eyes flicked up just briefly, soft, unreadable, and then dropped again. But his feet slowly slid off the chair, hoodie sleeves still covering his hands as he followed Taehyung to the kitchen without a word.

He stood quietly at the counter, arms crossed, head slightly tilted as Taehyung moved around the kitchen, preheating the oven, lining a tray, pulling ingredients one by one from memory. Vanilla, sugar, flour, eggs.

Taehyung talked softly as he worked, filling the space with small memories and a little humor. “You used to sneak half the chocolate chips before I even started mixing.”

Jungkook didn’t speak. But when Taehyung wasn’t looking, a few chips went missing from the bowl. He only noticed because Jungkook’s lips were puffed out in a subtle pout, his cheek a little full like he was trying not to chew too obviously.

“Caught you,” Taehyung said with the faintest smile, reaching to brush a smear of dough from the corner of Jungkook’s mouth.

Jungkook huffed quietly and looked away, the smallest pink blooming on his cheeks.

When the cookies were finally in the oven, rows of imperfect little scoops lined up on the tray, soft mounds of dough kissed with chocolate, Taehyung wiped his hands on a dish towel and turned to Jungkook, voice low.

“They’ll be done in about twelve minutes,” he murmured. “Can I-uh, just change real quick?”

Jungkook gave the tiniest shrug in response, eyes fixed on the timer Taehyung had set on his phone. His arms were folded over the counter, cheek resting on the fabric of his hoodie sleeve. Still quiet. Still sulking. But not frozen out.

Taehyung offered a small smile that he knew wouldn’t be returned, then quietly padded down the hallway toward the bedroom.

His oversized black coat was the first thing to come off, damp from the outside air. Beneath it, he wore a crisp white turtleneck smudged faintly with graphite near the cuffs, and black trousers that were still creased from his afternoon critique. His bag, still full of sheet music and charcoal sketches, lay slumped by the bedroom door.

He peeled the clothes off carefully, like the day was still clinging to him, and replaced them with the familiar softness of an old navy hoodie and cotton sweatpants Jungkook had once teased him about stealing.

As he pulled the hoodie over his head, Taehyung let out a quiet breath.

He should’ve been there. He’d promised.

Instead, he’d gotten caught up at the music building, rehearsal running long, critiques for his sketch portfolio dragging even longer. He hadn’t even checked the time until it was well past five, and by then, Jungkook had already been standing outside, alone in the rain. When he returned to the kitchen, Jungkook was still in the same spot.

His posture hadn’t changed, but the flush in his cheeks had softened, warmed now by the oven instead of cold air. He didn’t look up, but his eyes flicked over briefly, just enough to register the change in clothes, the absence of Taehyung’s usual sharp-edged studio attire.

Taehyung leaned casually against the counter beside him, close. He smiled and bumped his shoulder lightly. “Now we match.”

There was a faint hum from Jungkook, barely a sound, more like a breath through his nose, but the pout on his lips had softened a little. And when the timer finally beeped, he didn’t hesitate to follow Taehyung to the oven, standing close enough that their arms touched while the tray was pulled out.

When the cookies came out, golden and soft, the scent wrapping around them like something gentle and familiar, Taehyung placed one in Jungkook’s hand without saying anything. He nibbled it slowly, tearing off pieces with his fingers rather than biting straight in. Still quiet. Still pouting. But softer now. A little less distant.

Taehyung leaned beside him, their shoulders brushing. “Still mad?”

Jungkook didn’t reply. Instead, he leaned his head silently against Taehyung’s arm. Just pressed there. Warm and close.

“No more forgetting,” he whispered after a long pause. His voice was barely there.

Taehyung turned slightly, resting his chin against the top of Jungkook’s head. “Never again.”

The rain was steady by late morning. A pale gray haze clung to the windows, turning the apartment into a quiet cocoon of lamplight, low chatter, and the occasional clink of mugs.

His mood was better, mellowed by sleep and the warmth of Taehyung’s apology and arms the night before, and also, He didn’t have work today, rain season closures meant the school suspended classes for a few days. The kids, as cute as they were, couldn’t safely make it through the flooded roads. So, for once, he could breathe.

Taehyung had left for work earlier that morning, He’d whispered something sleepy against Jungkook’s cheek before heading out, about curry in the fridge and making dinner plans later. He smiled at the memory, fingers brushing the faint warmth that still lingered on his skin.

Now, Jungkook was in the kitchen, barefoot and quietly stirring honey into his tea, the metal spoon clinking gently against the ceramic. The scent of chamomile curled up into the air like a lullaby. Beside him, Jin stood with a dish towel in hand, drying a plate with slow, absent-minded strokes, more out of something to do than necessity.

It had been the others’ idea.

They’d insisted, really-, said it had been too long since they all hung out somewhere warm and familiar. Jin had offered his place first, but it was under renovation again.

Yoongi's was too far. Hoseok had chimed in about missing the scent of Jungkook’s lavender laundry detergent, and Jimin had sent a string of hearts with “Koo’s apartment or bust” before Jungkook could even respond.

Taehyung, of course, wasn’t home yet, stuck at a studio session. He’d texted Jungkook earlier, a voice note that was a mix of sleepy and apologetic, “Wish I could be there, baby. Save me food if Jin-hyung cooks.”

So now, the apartment was softly full.

Yoongi lay half-asleep on the rug in the living room, one arm slung over his face to block the light. Hoseok sat cross-legged on the couch, humming at something on his phone. Jimin was curled into the far end, scrolling through his feed with his usual casual flair, tossing occasional commentary toward Hoseok, mostly about fashion or some celebrity’s new hair.

Their laughter filtered through the hallway like a distant memory, gentle and blurred, like sunlight through cotton curtains.

Jungkook didn’t say much, but his eyes softened when he heard it. The sound of people he loved. The echo of comfort filling the corners of a space he usually shared with just one other person.

Jin nudged his elbow lightly. “You okay?”

Jungkook blinked, then nodded once. Quiet but sure.

“I’m glad they came,” he murmured, voice warm like the steam rising from his mug.

Jin smiled, setting the plate down. “Me too.”

A lingering silence stood there at first, folding gently between them like an extra layer of air, comfortable, not heavy. The kind that settled between people who didn’t need to fill the space just to feel close. Then Jin nudged him gently with his elbow.

“Hey.”

Jungkook hummed without turning, focused on balancing the tea bag on his spoon.

Jin leaned in a little, voice low and casual. “Did you ever end up giving it to him?”

Jungkook blinked. “…Giving what?”

Jin gave him a look, quiet, pointed.

Jungkook froze, eyes wide. “Hyung.”

“I’m just asking,” Jin whispered, raising his hands. “You told me. A few years ago. At my place.”

“Does that ring a bell?” he added with a slight teasing tone.

Jungkook’s face turned pink immediately. “That wasn’t– seriously, I was just– why would you even bring that up now?”

“I remembered,” Jin said with a tiny shrug, smirking. “You were all red-faced and panicked and whispering like someone would hear you through my walls. ‘I bought lace panties, hyung,’” he mimicked in a faux-whisper.

Right. He ended up telling Jin that he somehow followed the older’s advice. Seems to be a mistake now though…

“Hyung!” Jungkook hissed, nearly dropping his spoon.

Jin stifled a laugh behind his hand. “You said you saw them while you were out with Taehyung. Said they looked soft. Pretty. And then you went to the shop alone and bought them, like a shy little thief.”

“I wasn’t– I just–!” Jungkook groaned, lowering his voice to a whisper. “It was supposed to be for… like… I thought maybe… someday, if we got to that point.”

“Did you?”

Jungkook looked away, ears bright red. “…No. I hid them in a box and never mentioned it.”

Jin smiled, leaning back against the counter with a satisfied hum. “That’s so you.”

“I was going to,” Jungkook muttered. “ I thought maybe… that night after the date at the restaurant. He looked so happy. I felt brave for once.”

Jin’s face softened. “Hey… don’t beat yourself up.”

“I’m not. It’s just.” Jungkook swallowed. “They’re still there. I saw them when I was cleaning the other day. I forgot how small they were.”

Jin grinned. “Still your size?”

“Hyung.”

“I’m just saying, if you ever decide to finally wear them, maybe don’t pick the day he’s already half-dead from work.”

“I wasn’t going to wear them today!”

Jin chuckled and picked up his mug. “Good. Because that would be a crime against fabric if he doesn’t get to see you first.”

Jungkook buried his face in his hands.

From the living room, Jimin shouted, “What are you two whispering about?!”

“Nothing!” Jungkook called back, voice a little too high.

He melted on the counter, silently wondering if his soul could evacuate his body politely.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Weeks later, the air outside was thick with the kind of humidity that clung to skin like a second layer. Jungkook fumbled with the keys at the front door, fingers slightly stiff. He exhaled sharply the moment the lock clicked, stepping into the still, quiet apartment and closing the door behind him.

“Home,” he mumbled to no one in particular, slipping off his shoes and hanging his damp cardigan on the hook by the door.

Taehyung wasn’t home yet, so he couldn't pick him up after work, which is fine. Meaning Jungkook had the apartment to himself for a few more hours, and that normally meant tea and an old drama on the TV. A long shower. Maybe a nap.

But today, as he walked into their shared space, set his bag down, and caught sight of the narrow hallway that led to his room, something shifted in his chest.

Jin’s voice echoed from weeks ago, soft and teasing,

“If you ever decide to finally wear them…”

And God– he had tried to forget. He really had. Tried to move past the pink flush that hit his cheeks every time his mind wandered to the conversation. Tried to act normal. Tried to forget that the little box was still there, tucked behind off-season sweaters and old shirts like a secret he wasn’t ready to remember.

But he couldn’t forget.

Not now. Not when everything was perfect between them again. Not when Taehyung looked at him like he still saw the moon. He pressed his lips together, hesitating in the middle of the hallway. Then, with a breath that trembled just slightly, he turned on his heel and walked to his bedroom.

The light in the closet flicked on with a buzz. Jungkook knelt carefully, shifting folded jeans and fabric bins aside until he reached it, that plain, brown box tucked deep in the corner, nearly dusty with time. His hands hovered over it for a moment, heart thudding faster than it had all day.

He pulled it out slowly. Sat cross-legged on the rug. He lifted the lid. Inside, nestled between soft tissue paper, were the panties, white lace, sheer, delicate. Trimmed in the tiniest satin bows at the sides. Still perfect. Still untouched. Still his.

Jungkook blinked down at them, lips parted slightly, face warm. He reached out with careful fingers, brushing the fabric like it might disappear if he wasn’t gentle enough. He bought them after a date.

Taehyung had wanted them to eat in a restaurant that time, but of course, he saw the lingerie store just across from them, and lied about going to the bathroom just to buy some of it– don’t blame him, he’s just very curious, okay...

And now here they were. Years later. Waiting.

He swallowed.

Then stood. The panties were still just as soft, with narrow straps and sheer cups that made his throat go dry. He swallowed, glancing at the mirror across the room.

And then, slowly, quietly, he undressed.

His shirt first, then his pants. Then his cotton panties, which he folded and set neatly on the chair. He stepped into the lace panties with care, easing the fabric over his hips. They hugged his body like they belonged there, like they’d been waiting, too. He turned a little in the mirror, heart skipping at the sight of his thighs framed by sheer lace and ribbon.

Then he reached in front of his dresser, fingers grazing over the edge of the drawer before tugging it open gently, he held them for a second, thumb tracing the hem. Then, with a little breathless huff, he opened the drawer above.

The bra wasn’t new, but it might as well have been. A simple white one, clean, light, nothing overly frilly. It matched. Not just in color, but in feeling. It was understated, honest.

It took him a moment to clasp it behind his back, fingers fumbling just slightly, but when he finally stepped back and looked–

He froze.

It was him. All of him.

Bare. Wrapped in soft white lace that didn’t make him feel exposed, but adored.

His cheeks burned. He felt the soft fabric against his breast, then he reached up to touch the center of the bra, then slid his hand down the strap along his shoulder. His lips parted, breath catching a little, eyes wide. It didn’t feel silly. Or too much. Or strange.

It just felt… like something he’d been waiting to let himself be.

Jungkook bit his lip.

And for a second, he wondered what Taehyung would think, how he’d look at him. If his voice were to go quiet like it does when he’s in awe. If he’d reach out, gently, reverently, and tell him how beautiful he was. But for now, the apartment stayed still. And he stood in front of the mirror, in lace and warmth and wonder, finally letting himself see what had always been there.

Meanwhile, the apartment door clicked open.

Taehyung stepped inside, keys jingling faintly as he slipped off his shoes and called out softly, “Baby, I'm home–" he called out casually, one arm cradling a paper bag of takeout, his tone light and a little sleepy.

Silence.

Odd. Jungkook usually peeked out of the kitchen or called back from the hallway, but now, nothing. No scent of food. No running shower. Just stillness, and the soft hum of the air conditioner.

Taehyung furrowed his brows, setting his bag down near the counter. "Baby?" he tried again, stepping deeper inside. He glanced toward the living room. Empty. Lights off.

His steps slowed as he neared the hallway to Jungkook’s bedroom. The door was half-open, light spilling faintly into the corridor.

He heard something, a soft shift of movement.

Taehyung pushed the door open quietly.

And then he stopped breathing.

There, standing in front of the full-length mirror, was Jungkook.

Jungkook stood there, facing the mirror, bare except for a delicate white bra hugging his chest, and matching lace panties that rested on his hips like a whispered secret. His back was to the door, unaware he had an audience, hands smoothing nervously over the front of the garment, admiring with caution. His long hair framed his bare shoulders, and his figure, soft, full, beautifully curved, was completely on display.

Taehyung didn’t know what to say. Or think.

Because– what?

His brain tripped over itself trying to make sense of the image. Jungkook had those? Jungkook bought those? When? How? Why hadn’t he said anything?

Taehyung felt his throat go dry. He didn’t make a sound. He couldn’t.

And then, Jungkook froze.

His gaze in the mirror had shifted, startled. Wide brown eyes locked onto Taehyung’s reflection at the door. His breath caught audibly. His hands jolted slightly, instinctively trying to cover himself, then stopped, fingers hesitating mid-air.

His cheeks flushed deep, burning across the apples of his face.

"Hyung–" he whispered, barely audible, his voice trembling.

Taehyung stood frozen by the door, stunned into silence, jaw parted slightly as if trying to find words he hadn’t prepared for. His eyes roamed helplessly, neck to shoulder, lace to skin, awe blooming with every breath he failed to take.

He blinked once. Twice.

And then softly, with something reverent in his voice, "You’re… beautiful."

Jungkook turned around slowly, his arms still curled shyly in front of him, gaze darting down then up again, nervous but not hiding.

"I– I forgot to lock the door," he mumbled, biting his lip.

Taehyung’s eyes finally blinked, as if waking up from a dream. "You…" He stepped in, brows drawn in pure disbelief. "You own those?"

Jungkook nodded meekly, gaze falling to the floor. "I bought them a while ago. Well, a few years ago, actually– I just– never wore them. I didn’t think I could. Or should."

"You bought them?" Taehyung repeated, his voice a bit higher this time, still stunned. "Like… on your own? You? Koo?"

Jungkook bit his lip, face hot. "It was just once. I… liked them. They were pretty."

Taehyung was still staring, wide-eyed, mouth slightly parted, trying to align this bold secret with the shy boyfriend he’d been dating.

"You always act so– how the hell did you even buy those without combusting?" he blurted.

Jungkook let out a tiny, embarrassed laugh, finally glancing up. "I didn’t combust," he mumbled. "But I did hide them in the back of my closet the second I got home. I never wore them… until now."

A pause.

"…And why do you look so–" he waved a vague, helpless hand at him, eyes darting across Jungkook’s body again. "So good in it..."

Jungkook’s face burned brighter, but he smiled shyly. "You think so?" he asked, fingers fidgeting at the hem of the lace.

Taehyung stepped forward slowly, eyes still filled with disbelief and awe. "You’re kind of wrecking me right now," he muttered honestly. "I thought I knew all your… sides."

Jungkook shrugged lightly. "Maybe you don’t yet," he said softly.

Taehyung stopped just a few feet in front of him, gaze locking on his again.

"No," he murmured. "But I want to."

Taehyung’s eyes darkened, heat pooling in the depths as he took in the way the lace hugged Jungkook’s body, the soft swell of his breast beneath the bra, the curve of his hips framed by the panties. The shy boy he’d known was gone, replaced by someone quietly daring, intoxicating.

Without breaking eye contact, Taehyung reached out, fingertips brushing a stray lock of hair from Jungkook’s flushed face. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, voice thick with something fierce and tender all at once.

Jungkook’s breath hitched again, heat flaring through his veins. The barrier between them crumbled like fragile glass, and suddenly, everything felt possible, every hesitation, every doubt melting away in the fire of their shared look.

Taehyung’s hand slipped down to cradle Jungkook’s waist, pulling him closer until their bodies were inches apart, warm, electric, impossibly close.

“I’ve wanted this… wanted you like this for so long,” Taehyung murmured, voice rough with desire.

Jungkook’s heart hammered wildly as he pressed into Taehyung’s touch, lips parting in a soft, desperate breath. “Me too,” he confessed, voice trembling but sure.

Then, as if the air itself had caught fire, Taehyung stepped forward, his hands sliding up Jungkook’s arms to cup his face. His thumb brushed over Jungkook’s bottom lip, his gaze locked on his. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice low, almost a growl.

Jungkook nodded, his eyes fluttering shut as the older boy leaned in, his lips brushing against his in a soft, tentative kiss. It was slow, sweet, agonizingly gentle, and it sent shivers down Jungkook’s spine.

Taehyung’s hands slipped down to his waist, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as his tongue teased at his lips. Jungkook opened for him, a soft moan escaping his throat as Taehyung’s tongue swept into his mouth, tasting him, claiming him.

Taehyung’s hands moved lower, skimming over the curve of Jungkook’s hips, sliding down to grip his ass through the lace. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down Jungkook’s jaw to his neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. Jungkook tilted his head back, his hands tangling in the other’s hair, tugging gently as he moaned.

“Tae…” he breathed, his voice trembling with need.

Taehyung’s lips continued their descent, his tongue tracing a path down Jungkook’s throat to the hollow of his collarbone. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin there, his hands slipping beneath Jungkook’s bra to cup his breasts. Jungkook gasped, arching into his touch, his fingers tightening in Taehyung’s hair.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over Jungkook’s nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks. “So fucking perfect.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched, his hips jerking forward as Taehyung’s lips found his cleavage. He pressed a kiss to the swell of his breast, his tongue darting out to taste the soft skin there. Jungkook moaned, his head falling back, his fingers urging him closer.

Taehyung’s hands moved to the clasp of Jungkook’s bra, unhooking it with practiced ease. The bra fell away, revealing Jungkook’s breasts to the cool air of the room. His breath caught in his throat, his hands cupping them, his thumbs brushing over his nipples again. Jungkook whimpered, his hips grinding against Taehyung’s thigh, his body trembling with need.

“ You like that?” Taehyung asked, his voice thick with desire.

Jungkook nodded, his eyes half-lidded, his lips parted as he panted. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Please, Tae… more.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He leaned in, his lips closing over one of Jungkook’s nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. Jungkook cried out, his hands tightening in Taehyung’s hair, pulling him closer as his hips rocked against his thigh. Taehyung’s other hand slid lower, slipping beneath the waistband of Jungkook’s panties to cup his pussy, his fingers brushing against his slick folds.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung murmured, voice low and warm, “look at me.”

Jungkook blinked up at him, dazed, lips kiss-swollen and cheeks flushed. “Y-Yeah…?”

Taehyung’s other hand slipped to his waist, holding him close, but not possessively, never that. Just enough to ground them both.

“I want you,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, laced with a tremble of restraint. “I want all of you. But only if you’re sure.”

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat.

“I’ll stop here if you’re not ready,” Taehyung continued softly, kissing his forehead. “You’re enough, always enough, just like this. But if you’ll let me… I want to love you, completely. Every inch. Every breath. Just tell me it’s okay.”

Jungkook’s heart swelled, lips parting with a soft, shaky sound, like relief and adoration all tangled into one. His hands curled around Taehyung’s shirt, tugging him just a little closer. “It’s okay,” he whispered, nodding. “I want to. I want you. Please.”

And just like that, Taehyung smiled then, Jungkook gasped, his body jerking as Taehyung’s fingers found his clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over the sensitive nub. “Tae– ah…,” he moaned, his hips rocking against the older’s hand, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

Taehyung lifted his head, his lips brushing against Jungkook’s as he whispered, “You feel so good, baby. So wet, so fucking hot.”

Jungkook whimpered, his hands sliding down to grip Taehyung’s shoulders, his nails digging into his skin. “Take me to bed,” he begged, his voice trembling. “Please, Hyungie.. I need you.”

He didn’t hesitate. He scooped Jungkook up in his arms, his lips crashing down on his as he carried him to the bed. He lay him down gently, his hands roaming over his body, stripping him of the lace panties before settling between his legs. Jungkook looked up at him, his eyes dark with desire, his chest heaving as he panted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hands sliding up Jungkook’s thighs to his hips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Jungkook reached for him, his hands tugging at Taehyung’s shirt, pulling it over his head. “I’ve wanted you too,” he whispered, his fingers sliding over Taehyung’s chest, his nails scraping lightly over his skin. “Please, Tae… don’t make me wait.”

Taehyung’s lips crashed onto his, hot and demanding as he pressed him into the mattress. His hands roamed over Jungkook’s body, gripping his hips tightly.

As Taehyung’s lips left Jungkook’s as he slid down his body, his hands roaming over his curves, squeezing his breasts firmly, thumbs brushing over his nipples. Jungkook gasped, arching into the touch, his hands tangling in the other’s hair as Tae’s tongue trailed lower, down his stomach, to the apex of his thighs.

His fingers teased Jungkook’s slick folds, rubbing slow circles over his clit before dipping inside, curling just right. Jungkook cried out, his body trembling, his back arching off the bed as Taehyung’s mouth joined his fingers, his tongue swirling around his clit, lapping at his arousal.

“Tae… fuck–,” Jungkook moaned, his hands gripping the sheets, his thighs quaking as Taehyung worked him relentlessly, the dual sensations of his fingers and tongue overwhelming him. “Too much… It’s too much…”

Taehyung pulled back, his lips glistening as he smirked up at Jungkook. “You taste so good, baby,” he murmured, his fingers still teasing his clit, sending shivers through his body. “But I need more of you.”

Jungkook reached for him, tugging at his pants, his breath hitching as Taehyung stripped them off, revealing his thick, throbbing cock. His size was intimidating, and Jungkook’s eyes widened as he shyly offered, “Can I… suck it?”

He nodded, guiding him gently, his hand cupping the back of Jungkook’s head as he took him into his mouth.

Taehyung’s groans filled the room as Jungkook’s tongue swirled around him, his lips tightening as Taehyung thrusted shallowly, careful not to push too far. “So good, baby,” he praised, pulling back before he could lose control. “But I want to be inside you.”

He slid between Jungkook’s legs, positioning himself at his entrance, his gaze softening as he whispered, “I love you.” Jungkook’s breath hitched, his eyes glistening as Taehyung pushed in slowly, stretching him wide. It hurt at first, and Jungkook winced, but he waited, kissing his face, whispering words of love and filthy promises until Jungkook nodded, his body relaxing.

“Okay,” Jungkook breathed, his hands gripping his shoulders. “Go slow, please.”

Taehyung obeyed, his thrusts slow and deep, his lips brushing against Jungkook’s as he murmured, “You’re so tight, so perfect for me.” Jungkook moaned, his walls clenching as Taehyung’s pace quickened, his hips snapping harder, driving Jungkook toward the edge.

His fingers rubbed Jungkook’s swollen clit in tight, insistent circles, the pressure sending electric shocks of pleasure through his entire body. The sensation was dizzying, overwhelming, and Jungkook’s breath hitched as his back arched off the bed. His hands fisted in the sheets, knuckles white, as Taehyung’s relentless thrusts drove him closer and closer to the edge.

When he came, it was with a cry, his body trembling as he squirted, Taehyung fucking him through it. “Tae…” he whimpered, his voice trembling, his body trembling even more. His legs wrapped tighter around Taehyung’s waist, pulling him deeper, needing him deeper. “Please… I’m– I’m– oh god…”

“That’s it, baby,” Taehyung growled, his voice low and gravelly, rough with desire. His hips moved with a rhythm that was almost punishing, each thrust hitting that sweet spot inside Jungkook that made him see stars. “You feel so fucking good, Koo. So tight, so perfect…”

Jungkook’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, his moans filling the room, bouncing off the walls. His clit was throbbing under Taehyung’s skilled fingers, the pressure just enough to tease, to torture, to drive him insane. Every nerve in his body was on fire, every inch of him hyper-aware of Taehyung, his hands, his lips, his cock, his body pressing him into the mattress.

Taehyung’s lips found the sensitive skin of Jungkook’s neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along his jawline, down to the curve of his collarbone. His teeth nipped lightly, enough to make Jungkook gasp, his fingers tightening in Taehyung’s hair.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Taehyung murmured against his skin, his voice a soft promise. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His fingers pressed harder against Jungkook’s clit, the movement fast, deliberate, and relentless. Jungkook’s hips jerked instinctively, his body trying to get closer, to feel more, to feel everything. His moans grew louder, more desperate, his hands clawing at Taehyung’s back, leaving faint red marks in their wake.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Taehyung whispered, his lips brushing against Jungkook’s ear. “Wrecked for me… all mine…”

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered shut, his head falling back against the pillows as pleasure consumed him. His body was taut, trembling, every muscle coiled tight as he teetered on the edge. He could feel it building inside him, that sweet, unbearable pressure that threatened to burst any second.

“Hyung– ah..” Jungkook’s voice broke, his chest heaving, his hips grinding against Taehyung’s fingers, against his cock. “I’m gonna– I’m gonna– again– oh god, Tae!”

“Cum for me, Koo,” Taehyung demanded, his voice raw, urgent. His thrusts grew faster, harder, his fingers moving in tight, perfect circles. “Let go, baby… cum on my cock…”

And Jungkook did.

His body shattered, his second orgasm crashing over him like a tidal wave, consuming him completely. Pleasure burned through every nerve, every vein, his walls clenching around Taehyung’s cock, his clit pulsing under his fingers.

His moans turned into a scream, his back arching off the bed as he came, his vision whiting out, his entire world narrowing to nothing but the feel of Taehyung inside him, all around him, consuming him.

Taehyung didn’t stop. His thrusts grew erratic, his hips slamming into Jungkook’s with a desperation that matched his own. His fingers continued to rub Jungkook’s clit, prolonging his orgasm, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body until he was trembling, writhing, pleading for mercy.

“Tae… Taehyung…” Jungkook gasped, his voice barely audible, his body still riding the waves of his climax.

And then, with a low, guttural growl, Taehyung came. His hips stuttered, his cock pulsing deep inside Jungkook, filling him, marking him. His body collapsed against Jungkook’s, his chest heaving, his breath hot against Jungkook’s skin.

For a moment, they lay there, tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts pounding in sync. Taehyung's lips found Jungkook’s in a slow, languid kiss, their tongues sliding together, tasting each other, savoring the moment.

“You…” Jungkook whispered against Taehyung’s lips, his voice soft, dazed. “You’re incredible…”

Taehyung chuckled, the sound low and warm, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from Jungkook’s forehead. “You’re the incredible one, baby. You’re perfect… so fucking perfect…”

Jungkook’s cheeks flushed, his lips curving into a shy smile. He reached up, his fingers tracing the line of Taehyung’s jaw, his touch soft, reverent. “I’ve never… I’ve never felt like this before…”

“Neither have I,” he admitted, his eyes dark, intense, filled with something that made Jungkook’s chest ache. “You’re… You’re everything.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched, his heart swelling with emotion. He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Taehyung’s lips were on his again, kissing him deeply, passionately, as if he couldn’t get enough.

Their bodies moved together naturally, effortlessly, their connection deeper than just physical. Taehyung’s hands roamed Jungkook’s body, touching, exploring, and worshiping every inch of him. Jungkook’s fingers tangled in Taehyung’s hair, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

“Tae…” Jungkook breathed, his voice trembling with need. “Again… I need you again…”

Taehyung’s lips curved into a wicked smirk, his eyes gleaming with desire. “Whatever you want.”

His fingers began to move again, tracing slow, teasing circles around Jungkook’s clit, sending shivers of pleasure through his body. Jungkook’s hips jerked, his breath hitching, his body already responding eagerly to Taehyung’s touch.

“Hyungie…” Jungkook whimpered, his hands clutching at Taehyung’s shoulders, his nails digging into his skin. “Please…”

“Patience, baby,” Taehyung murmured, his voice low, teasing. He leaned down, his lips brushing against Jungkook’s ear. “I’m not done with you yet…”

And then he was moving again, his fingers pressing harder, faster, his cock sliding deep inside Jungkook, filling him completely.

Jungkook’s moans filled the room once more, his body arching into Taehyung’s, his hands clinging to him desperately. “Tae… Tae…” he gasped, his body trembling, his pleasure building again.

“Let go, baby,” he whispered, his voice urgent, his thrusts relentless. “Cum for me again…”

And Jungkook did.

Afterward, in the quiet that followed, the kind of silence that felt sacred, not empty, Taehyung held him like he was something fragile and precious all at once.

Their skin was still flushed and damp, tangled beneath soft sheets, but there was no rush to move. Just breaths. Just closeness. Just the feeling of hearts that had finally aligned after all those years of waiting.

Jungkook blinked up at the ceiling, lips still tingling, chest tight in the best way, as Taehyung ran his fingers gently down his side. It was soft. Almost reverent. Like he couldn’t believe he was real.

And maybe that was the thing about their first time, it wasn’t about the lace, or the way Jungkook had trembled under his touch, or how desperately they had clung to each other in those moments of want. It was about the quiet after. The safety. The understanding. The love so deep it didn’t have to be said aloud, but Taehyung whispered it anyway.

“I love you,” he said, voice hoarse, pressing a kiss to Jungkook’s shoulder. “Every part of you.”

And Jungkook, with his heart laid bare and his soul in pieces carefully held together by Taehyung’s hands, smiled.

Because now he believed it.

This, this was theirs. Their first time, yes.

But not their last.

Never their last.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The room was hushed in the way that only night could offer, no cars passing, no phones buzzing, just the soft creak of cooling furniture and the distant patter of a breeze brushing against the windows.

Their bodies were still tangled in the sheets, skin damp with the echo of what had just passed. Jungkook lay on his back, flushed and breathless, his lips parted as if still remembering Taehyung’s mouth on his. Taehyung hovered beside him, chest heaving with the remnants of passion, but his eyes… his eyes were soft now. Anchored.

He reached out slowly, as though afraid to break the spell, and let his fingertips skim the curve of Jungkook’s waist.

“Baby,” Taehyung murmured, voice hoarse, reverent. “Look at me.”

Jungkook blinked, lashes fluttering. He turned his head on the pillow, eyes finding Taehyung’s, wide and wet, flushed with the weight of everything that had just happened between them.

His lips trembled into a smile. “Hi.”

Taehyung laughed under his breath, then leaned in to kiss that smile, gently this time. Just a press. No fire, only devotion. “You’re okay?” he asked against Jungkook’s mouth, one palm sliding up to cup his cheek.

“I’m okay,” Jungkook whispered. “I just… it still feels like a dream.”

Taehyung pulled back an inch to look at him properly, thumb brushing the edge of his cheekbone. “It’s not,” he said softly. “It’s real. You’re here. I’m here. And that…” He swallowed. “That meant everything to me.”

Jungkook’s throat worked as he tried not to cry, overwhelmed in a way that made his chest ache and heart throb. “I was nervous…” he admitted, barely above a whisper.

“I loved them,” Taehyung said instantly, firm and sincere, eyes locked with his. “But more than that, I love you. All of you. There is nothing, nothing, you could show me that I wouldn’t want to hold with both hands.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched. “You mean that?”

Taehyung leaned down again, resting his forehead against Jungkook’s. “I’ve never meant anything more.”

Silence bloomed between them for a moment, heavy with affection. Then Taehyung pressed a last kiss to his temple and whispered, “Baby,” he murmured, brushing a thumb along the curve of Jungkook’s shoulder. “Let’s take a shower. You’ll feel better.”

Jungkook blinked up at him slowly, eyes still dazed. “Mm,” he hummed. “Okay. Only if you come with me.”

Taehyung smiled, soft and private, like Jungkook was something precious, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. They moved together quietly. Jungkook held onto Taehyung’s hand as they padded to the bathroom, feet bare against the tile. The space was warm from earlier use, light, soft, and golden under the small overhead lamp.

Taehyung reached into the glass-walled shower and turned on the water, waiting for it to heat before adjusting the pressure. Jungkook stood to the side, watching him, arms hugging his torso in the oversized shirt. The moment Taehyung turned to him, eyes searching, Jungkook stepped closer and let him help ease the fabric off his shoulders.

“Let me take care of you,” Taehyung said softly, his fingers brushing down Jungkook’s arms.

Jungkook only nodded, cheeks warm but eyes trusting.

They stepped under the spray together, the warm water cascading over their skin in ribbons. For a moment, neither of them moved. Taehyung stood behind Jungkook, arms wrapping gently around his waist as the water ran down their backs, down their spines, like a quiet blessing. Jungkook leaned back into the embrace, resting his head on Taehyung’s shoulder.

“I still can’t believe you’re mine,” Taehyung murmured into the wet strands of his hair.

“I’ve always been yours,” Jungkook whispered, closing his eyes.

Taehyung held him there for a while, letting the moment stretch, until he reached for the body wash, poured a little into his palm, and began to gently lather Jungkook’s skin. He washed him with slow, reverent movements, fingertips gliding over his chest, arms, his back, the dip of his waist, like he was trying to memorize him all over again.

Jungkook shivered under the touch, not from cold, but from the way Taehyung handled him. Like he was something fragile. Something beloved.

Taehyung turned him carefully to face him and knelt a little to press soft kisses to his collarbone, his shoulders, the space over his heart. “I didn’t know you had those lace panties,” he said gently, rinsing suds from Jungkook’s thigh. “Not that I’m complaining. You looked… ethereal.”

“I didn’t know if I’d ever wear them,” Jungkook confessed, cheeks coloring pink under the water. “Or if I’d be brave enough.”

Taehyung looked up at him, soap and sincerity still on his hands. “You were more than brave. You were stunning, baby.”

Jungkook melted into the words, into the warmth of the water, and the gaze that never once made him feel small.

When Taehyung kissed him, it wasn’t rushed. It was slow. Lingering. With the quiet kind of depth that spoke louder than anything else.

After washing himself, Taehyung turned the water off and stepped out first, wrapping a fluffy towel around his waist before gently helping Jungkook out and wrapping him in another. He towel-dried Jungkook’s hair as Jungkook giggled softly, eyes crinkling with affection.

They returned to the bedroom, skin still damp and flushed, and Taehyung helped Jungkook into a clean set of soft cotton pajamas, his own shirt again, but this time paired with sleep shorts, his hair tousled and face freshly moisturized by Taehyung’s careful fingers.

Crawling back into bed, Jungkook let Taehyung pull him close under the covers. He sighed deeply, head tucked under Taehyung’s chin, hand placed just over his heart.

“You okay?” Taehyung asked one last time, kissing the top of his head.

Jungkook smiled sleepily. “More than okay. You make me feel safe.”

Taehyung closed his eyes. “That’s all I ever want to do.”

And they drifted off that way, warm skin against warm skin, two hearts learning the rhythm of being one, not just in desire, but in the tender, quiet spaces where love settles in.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Chapter Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jungkook was kneeling by the shelf near his bedroom, sorting through old clutter and half-forgotten boxes, when his fingers brushed against something taped shut and familiar.

He paused. Pulled it out.

It was an old box, worn around the corners, sealed carefully with yellowing tape and labeled in his handwriting with a tiny heart beside it. He smiled, thumbing over the top before peeling the tape open.

Inside, nestled between old tissue paper and faded receipts, were the letters.

Dozens of them. All handwritten, with that neat and slightly dramatic handwriting he’d come to recognize long before he knew they were from Taehyung. Notes slipped into his locker during their first year. Kind ones. Silly ones. Poetic ones. And the hair accessories, the tiny velvet clips Taehyung had given him, A small pin in the shape of a bunny. A scrunchie Jungkook used to wear on his wrist all the time because it felt too special to lose. All the stuff Taehyung had ever given him, all tucked away safely in one box.

He stared into the box, blinking slowly, warmth blooming behind his ribs.

How had all this felt so confusing back then? He’d been clueless, a bit lost, wide-eyed, and slow to read the signs. And now? They shared a life. A home. A soft Sunday afternoon like this one.

The door opened a moment later, and Taehyung’s voice floated in, casual and warm. “Baby? Have you seen my phone? I swear I left it on the kitchen table–”

Jungkook didn’t answer. He was still sitting on the bedroom floor, cross-legged with the box open in front of him, a faint smile playing on his lips. Taehyung appeared at the doorway, his words catching in his throat as his eyes landed on the familiar box. His expression softened.

“…You still have those?” he asked, stepping closer.

Jungkook looked up, blinking as if just remembering the present. “Of course,” he murmured.

Taehyung crouched beside him, peering into the box. “You were so clueless,” he said, fondly exasperated.

Taehyung’s fingers were tracing slow, absentminded circles over the back of Jungkook’s hand as they sat together on the floor, surrounded by the delicate remains of their younger selves. The letters, the ribbons, the silly cat-shaped eraser Jungkook forgot he had, all of it felt like a time capsule to a version of them who didn’t know where this would lead, only that they felt pulled toward each other.

Jungkook tilted his head, watching Taehyung's profile. “You really thought I was clueless?” he asked quietly, half-teasing, half-embarrassed.

Taehyung chuckled under his breath, his lips quirking. “You were so clueless it was kind of painful to watch,” he said, fondness stitched into every word.

“You’d blush at everything. I’d leave a letter, and the next day you’d stare at your locker like it was a haunted mailbox.”

“I didn’t know it was you!” Jungkook whined, laughing as he nudged Taehyung’s shoulder. “You were so– so cool and distant back then. I thought you didn’t even like me.”

At that, Taehyung turned his head to look at him. His expression softened completely.

“I liked you too much,” he murmured. “That was the problem.”

“I kept thinking... if I said it out loud, you’d disappear,” Taehyung went on, voice barely above a whisper. “You were this… warm, bright thing. And I didn’t know how to say, ‘please stay,’ without messing it up.”

Jungkook reached up and cupped his cheek, thumb stroking gently over Taehyung’s skin.

“I never wanted to be anywhere else,” he whispered.

For a moment, Taehyung just stared at him. Then he smiled, slow and full of all the years they’d lived through, the shyness, the mistakes, the letters, the stolen glances that became kisses, the awkward silences that became home.

He leaned in and kissed Jungkook’s forehead. “Still so cheesy,” he muttered, but his voice wobbled a little. They stayed like that for a while, arms tangled around each other, hearts beating in the kind of silence only long love can hold.

Then Jungkook whispered, “You know what I was thinking when I opened the box?”

“Mhm?”

“I thought about how anxious I was that year. Being in a new place, no friends yet. Except for Jimin-hyung, he was the first one to reach out…”

Taehyung rested his chin on Jungkook’s shoulder, quietly listening.

“But then,” Jungkook continued, “there were the notes. The little gifts. Someone remembered I liked banana milk. Someone noticed when I skipped lunch. It made me feel seen… and safe. And I never got to say thank you for that.”

Taehyung kissed his cheek and held him tighter. “You said it every time you smiled at me without knowing why,” he whispered.

Jungkook shut his eyes. “I’m glad it was you.”

“Me too.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The door to their apartment unlocked with a soft click.

Taehyung stepped in, tired but composed, the crisp collar of his navy shirt still buttoned up. Light spilled in through the blinds, stretching across the floor in gentle lines. He loosened his watch, fingers methodical, eyes flicking toward the living room.

Someone was there.

A tall man stood with his back turned, browsing the bookshelf by the window. His posture was relaxed, almost too relaxed. His hair, dyed a soft chestnut brown, curled slightly at the nape of his neck.

Taehyung’s jaw shifted slightly as he slid his keys into the tray near the door. He didn’t recognize him at first. No one was supposed to be home.

And more importantly, no one should be inside except Jungkook.

He stepped forward slowly, voice calm, almost dangerously so. “Excuse me?”

The man turned.

Taehyung stopped mid-step. “…Namjoon-hyung?”

A bright dimple bloomed on the older man’s face. “Hey, Tae.”

Taehyung exhaled, just a bit. His shoulders dropped back into ease as recognition sank in, and the familiar warmth of Namjoon’s smile caught up to his memory.

“You dyed your hair,” Taehyung remarked coolly, his lips twitching into the faintest smirk. “Thought some random guy broke into the apartment to… read philosophy or something.”

Namjoon chuckled. “What would’ve happened if I didn’t turn around?”

“I was a second away from calling security,” Taehyung deadpanned. “You’re lucky you turned.”

Footsteps pattered behind them.

“Hyunggggg!” Jungkook’s voice rang like a bell, soft and excited as he trotted out of the bedroom in a cozy knit sweater, cheeks already flushed with joy.

Taehyung looked over, and everything in him relaxed completely.

Jungkook’s smile could disarm anything.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “He scared the hell out of me.”

Jungkook gasped and gently smacked his own cheek. “I forgot to remind you– sorry, sorry! I told you weeks ago, but you’ve been so busy…”

Namjoon raised a brow. “I’m starting to feel very forgotten.”

“No, hyung–” Jungkook rushed forward, throwing his arms around Namjoon’s torso in a tight hug, like a sunflower folding toward sunlight. “You look so different, I mean– you’re so cool now. Not that you weren’t before but– your hair!”

Taehyung watched them, one hand slipping into his pocket, the other lifting to brush his fringe back. There was a quiet fondness in his eyes.

Jungkook turned toward him with a sheepish grin. “I made him tea, and then I left him here alone. I was folding laundry,” he said in a rush. “I thought you’d be home later,”

“I thought you’d still be out,” Taehyung said mildly, stepping forward. His gaze moved from Namjoon to Jungkook. “And I’d never forget someone you care about.”

Jungkook softened instantly. “Tae…”

Taehyung only offered a subtle smile, one hand brushing along Jungkook’s back briefly, comfort, affection, reassurance all in one quiet touch.

Namjoon watched them, warmth swelling in his chest. “You’ve grown up,” he murmured. “Both of you.”

Taehyung shrugged. “Time does that.”

Jungkook beamed. “And love.”

Namjoon huffed a laugh. “You’re still the same.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung agreed under his breath, his voice carrying no judgment, only the fondness of someone who adored every inch of that softness.

Jungkook looked between them with a playful pout. “I’m resilient.”

“You’re a marshmallow,” Taehyung countered, gaze sliding back to Namjoon. “But we love him like that.”

Namjoon smiled again, stepping forward and reaching out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. “Glad to see you’re in good hands, Kook.”

Jungkook blinked up at him, cheeks pink. “Always.”

The small dining table was set neatly, three plates of warm doenjang jjigae and grilled mackerel steaming gently between them. The kitchen light cast a honeyed glow, tracing the subtle planes of Taehyung’s cheekbones as he poured sparkling water into their glasses with practiced calm.

Jungkook moved between the kitchen and dining area like a hummingbird, graceful, focused, carrying chopsticks, tissues, and side dishes with quiet care.

“Sit down, please,” Namjoon’s voice held that steady calm of his, eyes crinkling with warmth as Jungkook returned from the kitchen with a small plate of sliced kimchi. “You’re working too hard for guests.”

Jungkook finally settled into his seat, the faintest crease between his brows betraying his nervousness despite his composed tone. “I want everything to be just right,” he said softly, the sweetness in his voice folding gently into the room’s quiet hum. “You’re family. And a guest. So I’m giving double.”

Taehyung’s gaze flickered with amused fondness, and under the table, he nudged Jungkook’s foot gently. “He cooked everything himself.”

A delicate flush warmed Jungkook’s cheeks. “Hyung, come on.”

Namjoon’s brows rose, genuine surprise layered in his calm voice. “Really? You didn’t order in?”

Taehyung shrugged easily, voice low and measured.

Their chopsticks clicked softly as they began to eat, the food fragrant and comforting. Jungkook ladled a little extra rice onto Namjoon’s plate, his voice gentle but firm when Namjoon tried to refuse.

Taehyung remained quiet mostly, but his presence was steady, his cool composure a contrast to the warm room. Occasionally, he asked a question or shared a soft observation, but more often than not, his eyes lingered on Jungkook with a quiet admiration. The way Jungkook’s brow furrowed thoughtfully, how his lips curved into a smile at a joke, and the gentle intensity in his gaze.

“You’re staring,” Jungkook whispered across the table when the space between words stretched a beat too long.

Taehyung blinked, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I know.”

Jungkook’s cheeks warmed, but he didn’t look away.

Namjoon cleared his throat, a soft chuckle in his voice. “Should I give you two some space?”

“No,” Jungkook said quickly, his voice steady though his heart fluttered. “Not yet.”

“Maybe,” Taehyung murmured quietly, almost to himself, and Jungkook’s foot bumped his under the table in gentle protest.

Later that night, after the laughter and conversation had settled, the three settled into the quiet comfort of the apartment. Taehyung stretched his arms casually, leaning against the doorway with a calm, thoughtful expression.

“Hyung,” he began, voice steady but gentle, “take my room tonight. I’m not in there much these days. I’ve been spending most of my time in Jungkook’s room anyway.”

Namjoon paused, studying Taehyung carefully, sensing the quiet earnestness beneath the casual tone. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with that protective brotherly warmth he always carried.

Taehyung’s eyes softened just a fraction, and he nodded. “Yeah. It makes more sense this way. You deserve the space, and I’m already comfortable where I am.”

Jungkook, sitting quietly on the edge of the couch, looked up with a shy but mature smile. “Hyung… if you don’t mind, I’m okay with that. I like having you around.”

Taehyung gave a small, knowing smile and walked over, resting a hand lightly on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Then it’s settled.”

Namjoon gave a slow, approving nod, grabbing his bag and suitcase. “Alright. I’ll make myself at home.”

As Namjoon disappeared down the hall, the apartment fell into a soft, peaceful quiet. Jungkook’s heart fluttered as Taehyung closed the door behind him, turning to face Jungkook with eyes that were both cool and tender.

“You okay?” Taehyung asked, voice low, almost a whisper.

Jungkook’s heartbeat fluttered, his gaze dropping to the soft sheets as Taehyung moved closer. “It’s weird, hyung, you’re always in my room now.”

Taehyung’s lips quirked into a small, cool smile. “I like it better there. Closer to you.”

Slowly, Taehyung stepped closer, the faint scent of his cologne filling the space between them. Jungkook’s breath hitched as Taehyung’s hand reached up to gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

Their lips met, soft, deliberate. The kiss deepened, steady and sure, grounding Jungkook’s nervous energy. But then, a small, involuntary sound slipped past Jungkook’s lips, and he pulled back, eyes wide with sudden panic.

“Joonie-hyung,” Jungkook whispered, voice trembling slightly. “Do you think he… heard?”

Taehyung’s fingers curled around Jungkook’s hand, squeezing it with quiet reassurance. “No,” he murmured, voice calm but protective. “He’s far enough down the hall. Besides, he’s probably asleep. You can relax.”

Jungkook let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, warmth flooding his chest as Taehyung pulled him closer again.

“I’m here,” Taehyung said softly. “Just us.”

The moment the door clicked shut, the air between them shifted. Jungkook’s back was against the wall before he could even process what was happening, Taehyung’s hands gripping his hips like he was claiming territory.

The faint sound of music playing in Taehyung’s room down the hall was the only reminder of the outside world, but even that felt distant now. Taehyung was too close, his breath hot against Jungkook’s cheek, his dark eyes burning with something raw and unstoppable.

“Tae, wait–” his voice trembled.

But Taehyung didn’t let him finish. His lips crashed against Jungkook’s, hard and demanding, silencing any protest. His hands instinctively went to Taehyung’s chest, but instead of pushing him away, his fingers curled into the fabric of the older’s shirt, pulling him closer. The taste of Taehyung’s lips was intoxicating, and Jungkook felt his resolve crumbling with every second.

Taehyung’s hands roamed now, sliding up Jungkook’s sides with purpose, pausing to squeeze his waist before moving higher.

Jungkook gasped into the kiss as Taehyung’s fingers brushed against the sensitive skin just beneath his sweater, teasing him with the promise of more. Taehyung broke the kiss just long enough to smirk, his lips glistening, before he dove back in, this time nipping at Jungkook’s bottom lip.

The sharp sting sent a jolt of heat straight to Jungkook’s core, and he couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped him.

“Shh,” Taehyung whispered, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t want Namjoon-hyung hearing, do we?” His lips trailed down Jungkook’s jawline, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Jungkook’s head fell back against the wall, his breathing ragged, as Taehyung’s teeth grazed his neck. The sensation was electric, and Jungkook bit down on his lip to stifle another sound. But Taehyung wasn’t satisfied with silence. He sucked hard on the tender flesh, drawing a choked gasp from the younger, who instinctively reached up to tangle his fingers in his hair.

Taehyung’s hands didn’t stop moving, working their way up to the hem of Jungkook’s sweater. In one swift motion, he pulled it up and over Jungkook's head, tossing it aside without a second thought.

The cool air hit Jungkook’s bare skin, making him shiver, but Taehyung was quick to replace it with the heat of his mouth. His lips trailed down Jungkook’s chest, kissing and nipping as he went, leaving faint marks in his wake. Jungkook’s hands tightened in Taehyung’s hair, tugging gently as he struggled to keep quiet.

“Hyung–” Jungkook’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make Taehyung pause. He looked up, his eyes dark with desire, and smirked.

“You’re so sensitive,” Taehyung murmured, his breath hot against Jungkook’s skin. “I love it.”

His hands found Jungkook’s waist again, squeezing as he kissed his way back up to his collarbone. Jungkook’s chest heaved, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure Namjoon could hear it from down the hall. Taehyung’s lips found Jungkook’s again, this time slower, more deliberate. His tongue teased at the seam of his lips, and Jungkook opened for him without hesitation.

The kiss deepened, their tongues tangling in a rhythm that left Jungkook dizzy. Taehyung’s hands moved again, this time sliding up to cup Jungkook’s chest, and his breath hitched.

Taehyung’s thumbs brushed over his nipples, teasing them until they were hard and sensitive, and Jungkook couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped him.

“Quiet,” Taehyung whispered against Jungkook's lips, but there was no real scolding in his voice.

Instead, his hands continued their exploration, kneading and teasing until Jungkook was trembling. Taehyung’s lips left his, trailing down Jungkook’s neck again, this time biting down just hard enough to make Jungkook’s knees buckle. Taehyung’s hands were there in an instant, gripping his hips to steady him.

And then,

A soft laugh escaped Jungkook’s lips, breathless and shaken, his forehead falling against Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Tae,” he whispered, flushed and overwhelmed, “we’re gonna get caught…”

Taehyung’s fingers stilled against Jungkook’s skin. For a beat, silence stretched between them, warm, intimate, crackling with heat and hesitation. Then, with a small exhale, Taehyung chuckled quietly, brushing his thumb over the waistband of Jungkook’s shorts before gently pulling him into a slow embrace.

“Okay,” he murmured against Jungkook’s temple, voice lower now, steadier. “Let’s stop.”

Jungkook nodded, grateful. Not because he wanted to stop, but because he knew they didn’t need to rush. They had time. They stood like that for a while, Taehyung holding him close, Jungkook breathing slowly again against his chest, the tension ebbing into something softer, sweeter.

Eventually, Taehyung shifted, pressing one last kiss to the top of Jungkook’s head. “Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s wash up.”

Jungkook nodded again, following him out of the room and into the light of the hallway. They didn’t speak much, didn’t need to. The sound of water running, toothbrushes tapping against ceramic, the rustle of shirts being pulled over flushed skin, it was all a kind of music only they heard. Afterward, they lay in bed, tangled under the thin blanket, the summer heat lingering in the air.

Jungkook curled into Taehyung’s side, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt, and whispered, “You okay?”

Taehyung hummed. “More than okay.”

The next morning.

Jungkook stirred first, eyes fluttering open to find Taehyung already awake beside him, propped on one elbow with a faraway look in his eyes. His hair was a mess, falling over his brow, and his expression was calm, peaceful, like he’d just been watching Jungkook breathe.

“Good morning,” Jungkook murmured, voice still thick with sleep, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Taehyung’s gaze dropped to him, fond and slow. “Morning,” he replied, voice low and raspy. “You always wake up like this?”

Jungkook stretched, then curled closer, resting his cheek against Taehyung’s chest. “Like what?”

“Pretty,” Taehyung whispered, wrapping an arm around him. “And mine.”

Then he added, “I was thinking… It's been a while since we spent a full day out. Just us.”

Jungkook’s expression softened. “You want to go somewhere?”

“I thought we could drive out. Clear our heads, maybe walk around, and have a proper meal. Something light.” He glanced back again, thoughtful. “You’ve been working hard. We both have.”

Jungkook smiled, small but sincere. “I’d like that.”

They got ready quietly, comfortably. Taehyung wore a dark button-down, his watch glinting as he adjusted the sleeves. Jungkook opted for a soft, petal-pink blouse with delicate lace trimming along the collar, tucked neatly into a white pleated skirt that swayed just above his knees.

The outfit was simple but pretty, effortlessly charming. When they walked into the kitchen, Namjoon was already up, dressed in joggers and a plain tee, a mug of coffee in hand.

“You two heading out?” Namjoon asked, raising a brow as he leaned against the countertop.

Taehyung nodded, grabbing his keys from the dish. “Yeah. Thought we’d take a day to ourselves. Nothing too far, just a drive, maybe the mall.”

Namjoon gave a small smile, eyes flicking briefly to Jungkook. “You deserve it. I’ll stay in today. I’ve got some reading to catch up on.”

“You sure?” Jungkook asked gently, slipping on his shoes.

“I’m sure,” Namjoon replied with a reassuring tone. “Go. Spend time together.”

Later on, Taehyung drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift. He looked relaxed, his profile sharp in the daylight.

Jungkook watched the city pass by through the window, then turned slightly toward him. “You seem more settled today,” he observed quietly.

Taehyung glanced at him, then back at the road. “Being with you does that.”

Jungkook smiled at that, letting the silence stretch in the comfort of the words.

They arrived at the mall by late morning, the parking lot slowly filling up. The familiar structure stood just the same, sunlight reflecting off its glass panels. As they stepped inside, it was like walking through a memory, but this time with a shared understanding between them, not things unspoken or hidden.

They didn’t rush through the shops. Taehyung’s hand occasionally brushed Jungkook’s back when crowds passed too closely, and Jungkook would quietly tug Taehyung toward cafés or storefronts that caught his attention. There was no need for extravagance, their time felt full just being near.

Eventually, as they rounded a quieter wing of the mall, they passed a small arcade space, and there it was.

The old photo booth.

It stood slightly tucked beside a claw machine and a faded bench. Still worn at the edges, but the screen blinked on, inviting and oddly familiar.

Jungkook paused in front of it. “Want to try it?”

Taehyung followed his gaze, then looked at him with a small smile. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

Inside, it smelled faintly of plastic and worn vinyl. The booth was smaller than it looked, so without a second thought, Jungkook slid onto Taehyung’s lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. Taehyung adjusted the camera angle with one arm wrapped around Jungkook’s waist, while Jungkook tapped through the filter options, his body relaxed against Taehyung’s as they got ready to take the photos.

“No filters,” Taehyung murmured.

Jungkook nodded, laughing a bit.

The countdown began.

Three. Two. One.

The first flash caught them both smiling faintly, unposed, natural.

Second shot.

Taehyung tilted his head, resting it lightly against Jungkook’s temple, their eyes steady on the lens.

Third.

Jungkook turned slightly, pressing a kiss to Taehyung’s cheek with gentle assurance.

Fourth.

They looked at each other, neither smiling, just soft and quiet, before Jungkook leaned in, their lips brushing in a subtle, unhurried kiss.

When the printed strip slid out, Taehyung took it with one hand, glancing at the photos with a calm sort of interest. He didn’t say much, just studied it for a moment, then raised a brow slightly.

“We look better here,” he murmured, holding the strip out like it wasn’t a big deal, though his thumb lingered at the edge.

Jungkook smiled, leaning against him. “You mean I look better.”

Taehyung gave a small, amused huff, eyes still on the photos. “You always do.”

They stepped out of the photobooth and walked down the mall’s softly lit corridor. Taehyung’s arm rested casually around Jungkook’s shoulders, their pace unhurried, comfortable.

From across the hall, Taehyung’s eyes caught a sudden shimmer of neon lights and the faint, cheerful jingle of arcade machines. He paused, a rare flicker of something softer crossing his usually nonchalant expression.

Jungkook noticed it too, following Taehyung’s gaze. “Hey,” he said, nudging him gently, “isn’t that the arcade? We could check it out– since we’re already here.”

Taehyung gave a quick, almost imperceptible nod, voice low but amused. “Sure. Could be fun.”

They drifted toward the bright, colorful entrance, the sounds growing louder, beeps, clangs, and the occasional triumphant chime from the games. Inside, a line of claw machines stretched out before them, each glowing under its own soft spotlight.

Taehyung’s eyes scanned the array until they landed on a cluster filled with plush toys, pink and white bunnies with floppy ears, their innocent button eyes almost melting his usual guarded look.

He glanced sideways at Jungkook and smirked. “That one,” he said, nodding toward the bunny machine. “looks like you.”

Jungkook laughed softly, cheeks flushed with a mix of surprise and delight. “Is that your way of saying I’m cute?”

Taehyung shrugged, already dropping a coin into the slot. “Maybe.”

he teases with a soft laugh.

The claw whirred to life as Taehyung gripped the joystick with quiet determination. The claw moved slowly, hesitating just above a plush bunny near the front. Time seemed to stretch as the claw descended, closed around the toy, then slipped. Taehyung grunted under his breath and tried again.

Jungkook watched with a bright smile, offering encouragement. “You’ve got this. Just take your time.”

Taehyung’s lips twitched in what might have been a smirk or a soft smile. “Easy for you to say,” he teases.

Several attempts later, the claw finally latched firmly onto a pink bunny, lifting it slowly before dropping it gently into the prize chute.

Taehyung pulled the plush out, holding it up like a trophy, his eyes gleaming.

Jungkook’s face lit up, cheeks glowing. “You did it!”

Taehyung stepped closer, pressing a quick, tender peck to Jungkook’s forehead as he handed over the bunny. “Consider this a consolation prize for putting up with me,” he murmured, voice low but full of affection.

Jungkook hugged the bunny tight, his smile soft and genuine. “It’s perfect, hyung.”

Taehyung’s arm tightened around him, pulling Jungkook close as the bright lights and arcade noises faded into the background.

With the soft bunny plush tucked securely in Jungkook’s arms, they lingered a little longer among the arcade machines. The bright, colorful lights cast playful shadows on their faces, and the cheerful sounds of games filled the space around them like a gentle backdrop to their quiet companionship.

Taehyung’s usual cool expression softened further as he glanced at Jungkook, a subtle challenge sparking in his eyes. Without a word, he stepped toward another game, a simple ring toss, and gestured for Jungkook to join him. Jungkook’s laughter was light and easy, his fingers brushing Taehyung’s as he stepped closer.

One game melted into another, the ping-pong ball bounce, a quick test of reflexes, and even a short burst of skee-ball that left them both smiling and breathless. It wasn’t about winning or losing, it was about the small moments of joy and the way their fingers occasionally intertwined or a shared glance that lingered a little too long.

After a few rounds, the buzz of the arcade began to feel like a warm hum behind them, and their stomachs reminded them of the morning’s skip.

Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck with a quiet chuckle. “Brunch?” he suggested, voice low and casual but inviting.

Jungkook nodded eagerly, still holding the bunny close. “Definitely. I’m starving.”

They stepped outside, the loud buzz of the weekend crowd around them, then crossed the street to a nearby café Taehyung knew well, quiet enough for conversation, with sunlight pooling in through tall windows. Inside, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingled with warm pastries. They settled into a corner booth, menus tucked away as they let the comfort of the space settle over them.

Taehyung reached across the table, brushing Jungkook’s hand. “What are you craving?”

“Something with eggs. And maybe… pancakes,” Jungkook said softly, eyes shining with the small joy of simple things.

“Good choice,” Taehyung murmured, fingers still resting lightly over Jungkook’s. “I’ll get the omelette.”

They ordered with easy conversation, no rush, no agenda beyond the quiet pleasure of being present. Between bites, they talked softly about everything and nothing, books they wanted to read, silly things they noticed around the city. Taehyung’s usual coolness softened into gentle attentiveness, and Jungkook met it with his own calm warmth.

After brunch, the day stretched ahead without pressure. They wandered back into the mall, this time moving through the bookstore where Taehyung carefully chose a poetry volume with clean, minimalist cover art. Jungkook found a neat little coffee table book on architecture, something he thought Namjoon might appreciate.

“Let’s get this for Joonie-hyung,” Jungkook said, handing the book to Taehyung. “He’s staying in today. Could use a good read.”

Taehyung smiled softly, fingers closing around the book.

They took their time browsing, stopping now and then to share lines from poems or interesting passages. The ease between them was effortless, a quiet conversation in glances and shared smiles. When the afternoon began to drop, they decided to head back.

The car ride home was peaceful, the kind of quiet that isn’t empty but filled with the comfort of familiarity. Taehyung parked in the driveway, and together they carried the small pile of books all the way to their apartment.

Namjoon was sitting in the living room, curled up with a blanket and a cup of tea. His face brightened when Jungkook placed the coffee table book beside him.

“You didn’t have to, Kook,” Namjoon said, his voice steady but touched. “But, thank you.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Namjoon’s last few days passed with the kind of quiet rhythm that made them linger longer in memory. Mornings were slow, filled with shared coffee and tea, quiet music playing in the background, and conversations in the living room.

Evenings were steadier, dinners at the table, a movie here and there, sometimes just the three of them sitting in comfortable silence, each with a book in hand or simply soaking in the gentle presence of one another.

Jungkook would sometimes drive Namjoon to a nearby trail to walk and talk with Taehyung's car, about life, about work, about the little things they didn’t always get to say through video calls. Taehyung would join in sometimes, other times staying back to prepare food or leave space for the brothers to be alone.

There was no grand farewell party when the time came, Namjoon wouldn’t have wanted one anyway. Instead, the morning of his flight, they all stood in the doorway, the air carrying that certain kind of stillness that arrives only when something is about to shift.

Namjoon adjusted the strap of his backpack, glancing at both of them with a fond, warm smile. “Thanks for letting me stay. It felt more like home than I expected.”

“Anytime, hyung,” Taehyung said, voice calm but sincere, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat.

Jungkook stepped forward, giving his brother a long, quiet hug. “Call when you land,” he said, voice soft. “Don’t forget.”

Namjoon patted the back of his neck gently. “I won’t. Take care of each other.”

Then he was gone, and just like that, the house felt a little quieter, a little more spacious.

Jungkook stood there for a few moments longer, staring at the closed door as if it might open again. His hand lingered near the edge of the wall, unmoving. The morning light spilled gently through the kitchen window, too soft to shake off the heaviness settling in his chest.

Taehyung didn’t say anything right away. He just watched him from the side, the way Jungkook’s shoulders had gone a little rigid, the way his eyes followed nothing in particular, blinking slower than usual. Taehyung knew that look. The quiet ache of someone trying not to show it.

“You okay, baby?” Taehyung asked gently, stepping closer, his voice dipped low and warm.

Jungkook nodded at first, then slowly shook his head. “I know it’s silly,” he mumbled, “He’s just going back there. We’ll call, and he’ll text. But…”

“But it’s different now,” Taehyung finished for him, his arms finding their way around Jungkook’s waist, pulling him in. “It’s okay to feel that.”

Jungkook buried his face into Taehyung’s chest, arms wrapping around his torso like second nature. “It’s so quiet now,” he whispered. “Like the air changed or something.”

Taehyung rubbed his back in slow, soothing circles, resting his chin on the crown of Jungkook’s head. “Then let’s make some noise,” he murmured, lips brushing his hair. “Let’s play that stupid playlist you love. Let’s cook something loud and messy. Let’s fill the place back up with you.”

A soft, broken laugh escaped Jungkook’s lips. “That playlist is so embarrassing…”

“I know,” Taehyung said, deadpan, before kissing his forehead. “But I’d still dance like an idiot to it if it made you smile.”

Jungkook leaned back just enough to see him, eyes glistening but smiling now. “You would?”

Taehyung lifted an eyebrow. “I’m already halfway there. Just say the word.”

That pulled a real laugh out of Jungkook, warm, shy, and a little teary. He reached up, brushing his fingertips along Taehyung’s jaw. “Thanks,” he said softly.

Taehyung caught his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “You’re my baby,” he said, casual and certain. “You think I’d let you be sad alone?”

Jungkook didn’t reply, just leaned in again, letting himself be held.

A week later, the familiar chime of the bell above the café door stirred something nostalgic in Jungkook’s chest as he stepped inside.

Honeybrewed looked exactly the same, that familiar blend of sunlight filtering through the blinds, the gentle aroma of roasted beans and cinnamon, the faint jazz track humming overhead. And at their usual spot, the whole group was already gathered.

Jin waved him over dramatically. “There he is, our little golden boy. Still glowing or is that domestic bliss I see?”

Jungkook laughed under his breath, cheeks tinged pink as he slid into the seat beside Taehyung. “Probably both.”

Taehyung glanced sideways, the corner of his lips curling in an understated smile as he sipped from his glass. “You sound proud.”

“I am,” Jungkook murmured, leaning his shoulder just slightly into Taehyung’s. “Namjoon-hyung flew back a few days ago, but it felt… really good, having him around again.”

Yoongi nodded thoughtfully. “It’s different when family comes and stays. Leaves a dent in the quiet.”

“Exactly that,” Jungkook replied, voice soft. “He’s been gone for a while. But having him at home, in the kitchen again, talking late into the night... it brought something back. Something I didn’t even realize I missed.”

There was a pause, the group momentarily settling into their drinks and plates, Jin’s second croissant already half gone, Jimin stealing sips from Yoongi’s iced drink without permission, Hoseok scrolling briefly on his phone.

“So how’s everyone else doing?” Jungkook asked, looking around. “We haven’t all been together like this in months.”

Jin groaned. “Work has eaten my soul. I haven’t touched a paintbrush in two months.”

“You just painted your bathroom pink last weekend,” Yoongi deadpanned.

“Self-expression is self-care,” Jin replied with dignity. “Besides, it was salmon.”

“You mean dusty rose,” Taehyung added dryly.

“I like salmon,” Jimin piped up, grin mischievous.

“Oh, speaking of taste–” Hoseok wiggled his brows and leaned forward, chin in his hand, “any updates on your long-standing situationship?”

Jimin blinked, caught off guard, and Yoongi beside him didn’t even flinch.

Instead, it was Jimin who spoke first, calm, assured, and with that classic twinkle in his eye.

“Actually… we’re dating now,” he said, glancing at Yoongi with the smallest, softest smile. “Like, officially.”

The table stilled for a breath.

“Really?” Jin was the first to speak, mouth slightly agape in delighted disbelief. “As in… finally?”

“Yeah,” Jimin said, nodding. “I mean, we’ve always had something. Since college, probably even before we admitted it. But back then, everything was chaotic. We didn’t give it a name because we didn’t know if we could keep it.”

“And now?” Jungkook asked gently, his tone low but warm.

Jimin reached out, fingers barely brushing Yoongi’s under the table. “Now we can.”

Yoongi, ever quiet but never absent, glanced up from his drink. “It’s simple this time.”

Taehyung gave a nod of approval, his gaze thoughtful. “That suits you both.”

Jin exhaled in mock relief. “Thank God. I was tired of being the only one carrying the romance subplot in this group.”

“You’re single,” Yoongi muttered.

“Exactly!” Jin clapped a hand on the table. “But I carry the energy.”

Laughter broke out again, that easy, familiar, deep kind of laughter that only happens between people who know each other through every version of themselves.

Jimin sat forward suddenly, resting his chin on his palm with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You know,” he said casually, stirring his iced drink with the straw, “since we’re talking about relationships...”

Taehyung raised a brow, already sensing trouble.

Jimin smirked. “When are you two getting married?”

Jungkook almost choked on his iced matcha, eyes going wide as he coughed into his hand.

“Wh–what?”

Taehyung, who had been reaching for a pastry, froze mid-air. His fingers paused, hovered awkwardly over the plate. His eyes flicked sharply to Jimin.

“What kind of question is that?” he muttered, his voice low and almost bored, but the way his ears immediately turned pink betrayed him.

Yoongi snorted. “That’s a yes if I’ve ever seen one.”

“No, it’s not,” Taehyung replied instantly, now biting into the pastry just to avoid further comment.

Jin leaned forward with a devilish grin. “So you’ve talked about it, huh?”

“We–” Jungkook began, his voice an octave too high, “haven’t really talked in detail or anything. I mean, we’ve had... conversations. You know. General. Adult things.”

Hoseok laughed. “That’s the most non-answer I’ve heard all month.”

Jungkook covered his face with both hands, his cheeks now a rosy hue that climbed up to his ears. “You guys are unbelievable.”

Taehyung chewed slowly, clearly trying not to react, though his foot shifted closer to Jungkook’s under the table, a quiet touch of reassurance.

“Can’t believe Jungkook’s going to beat me to the altar,” Jin sighed dramatically.

“Is that really so surprising?” Yoongi said flatly.

“I’m soft, okay?” Jin defended, hand on his chest. “I just haven’t found someone who can handle all this.”

“Oh God,” Jimin groaned, laughing. “Back to the topic– so, any rings hidden somewhere, Tae?”

Taehyung calmly reached for his drink and took a long, deliberate sip before replying in that familiar deadpan voice: “If I did, I wouldn’t tell any of you.”

That only made the group louder, cackles erupting like firecrackers. Jungkook was practically sliding down in his seat, hiding behind his cup.

“But I’m taking that as a yes,” Jimin grinned, nudging Yoongi. “Bet he already has the Pinterest board made.”

“I swear to God,” Taehyung said without looking up, “if any of you ever find that out, I’m moving to Finland.”

Yoongi lifted a brow. “Specific.”

Taehyung finally looked up then, his gaze settling on Jungkook beside him, whose face was still flushed but smiling gently now. “I don’t need a board,” he murmured, his voice lower, less teasing now. “I already know what he likes.”

The group went quiet for a beat, not the shocked kind of silence, but a warm one. A knowing one. The kind that fills the space when something real is said without needing a big show.

Jungkook looked at him, eyes wide but soft, fingers fidgeting slightly in his lap.

And Taehyung just gave him a small, crooked smile, one that said 'Don’t panic, I’ve got you, I’m serious, but we’re fine.'

“Okay,” Jin finally said, voice dramatic again to cut the tension, “but if you two don’t let me be the best man, I’m writing a diss track.”

“You can’t even rap,” Jungkook laughed shyly.

“That’s why it’ll hurt more.”

The sun had dipped low by the time they all parted ways, casting golden-orange streaks along the pavement as the group stood near the corner outside Honeybrewed, lingering like they always did.

Jimin tugged Yoongi’s arm with a cheeky grin, practically beaming. “Don’t forget to text when you guys get home!”

Yoongi rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away. “You’re too loud, genius.”

“I will,” Jungkook replied sweetly before leaning just a bit forward, raising a brow. “And you– you better not keep Yoongi-hyung up past midnight.”

Jimin gasped, scandalized. “Excuse me?!”

Yoongi smirked, clearly amused. “That’s a story.”

“No, it’s not,” Jimin quickly added, glaring at Jungkook. “You little–”

But Jungkook just laughed, a gentle flush on his cheeks as he waved goodbye to the rest of the group. Jin made a dramatic twirl and declared himself emotionally overwhelmed. Hoseok promised a game night soon. And just like that, the group dispersed, their footsteps echoing softly in the mellow hush of evening.

Jungkook turned to Taehyung, whose hand had slipped into his without thought, fingers warm and easy between his.

“Ready?” Taehyung asked, voice quieter now. Jungkook nodded, and they walked side by side toward the parking area, shoes clicking faintly on the pavement.

Taehyung’s car stood under a large tree, streaked in the golden hue of the dying light. The drive home wouldn’t be long, but it felt like enough, a tiny slice of alone time again, away from the noise and teasing. Once inside, Taehyung started the engine, fingers steady on the wheel, but something about his silence made Jungkook glance over.

Taehyung’s jaw was a little tense, his gaze forward but unfocused, like he was distracted.

“Hyung,” Jungkook said softly, tilting his head. “What’s wrong?”

Taehyung blinked, then shook his head, a bit too quickly. “Nothing.”

“Hey,” Jungkook said again, quieter this time. “You’re doing that thing again where you go quiet and pretend nothing’s up.”

Taehyung sighed, leaning back against the headrest briefly before turning to face him, eyes softer now.

“It’s stupid,” he murmured. “I’m just... thinking.”

“About?” Jungkook asked, reaching over to gently graze his knuckles across Taehyung’s wrist.

Taehyung hesitated, then looked away, just enough to hide the pink rising in his cheeks. “…that marriage talk,” he said finally, almost under his breath.

Jungkook blinked in surprise, then a slow, fond smile spread across his lips. “Oh.”

Taehyung frowned. “It’s not that I’m scared or anything. I just—when they all started talking about it, and then everyone was teasing and looking at us, it suddenly felt… real. Like, this isn’t just ‘maybe someday’ anymore.”

Jungkook’s heart softened instantly. He shifted closer, his voice warm and low. “It’s not stupid,” he said. “You’re allowed to feel that way. I felt it too.”

Taehyung peeked at him. “Yeah?”

Jungkook nodded. “I thought I was gonna melt earlier...”

Taehyung huffed a laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“But,” Jungkook added, squeezing his hand, “for the record… I wasn’t scared.”

Taehyung turned to him fully now, their faces close in the quiet hum of the car.

“I know what I want,” Jungkook said. “And I want you. Whether that’s next year or five years from now, or whenever we’re ready. I’m not rushing anything. But… the thought of it doesn’t scare me.”

Taehyung’s breath hitched just slightly, his eyes lingering on Jungkook’s, deep and steady, full of affection that didn’t need fireworks or dramatic declarations to feel profound. “Okay,” he murmured.

Jungkook tilted his head, smiling. “Okay?”

Taehyung nodded. “Yeah. Just… okay. I like hearing that.”

They sat there for another moment in silence, the low hum of the engine surrounding them like a quiet promise. Then Taehyung gently pulled Jungkook’s hand up to his lips and kissed his knuckles, soft, reverent.

“Let’s go home,” he said.

And Jungkook, still smiling, replied, “Yeah.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The days began to blur into one another, not in monotony, but in comfort. Mornings started with sleepy warmth tangled in blankets, the faint hum of the coffee machine, and the gentle rhythm of toothbrushes clinking against porcelain. Taehyung often woke first, only to find Jungkook curled into his side, a sleepy smile already softening his features.

Their routines settled naturally, Taehyung’s quiet focus in the kitchen, Jungkook’s soft footsteps pacing behind him, hugging him from behind as sunlight shone through the curtains. Grocery runs became mini adventures. Laundry folded together on rainy afternoons became rituals. Even silence became something sacred between them.

Some days were quiet. Some were chaotic with work and deadlines. Sometimes they argued, softly at first, then louder, but never cruel. They always came back to each other. Always.

Autumn came. Leaves painted the sidewalks gold and rust. They carved pumpkins without being asked to. Taehyung took photos of Jungkook with orange smudges on his cheeks, and Jungkook printed them, taping one near the bathroom mirror. Winter followed with quiet nights, heater hums, and extra blankets. They made ramyeon at midnight and watched old films no one remembered anymore.

They met friends when they could, dinner at Jimin and Yoongi’s, occasional game nights with Jin and Hoseok, laughter echoing into late hours before they returned home, fingers laced together in the car. The apartment changed slowly, too. New shelves, shared slippers, forgotten mugs left on the windowsill.

Taehyung’s once-untouched bookshelf now had graphic novels next to art catalogues. His drawers were filled with oversized sweaters that Jungkook always stole.

There were no grand declarations. No dramatic milestones. But there were sticky notes on mirrors. There were mismatched mugs. Quiet music. Shared calendars. Soft kisses behind closed doors. Small moments that whispered, this is it. This is love. This is home.

As spring came again, Taehyung started waking up earlier just to watch Jungkook sleep, long eyelashes resting on flushed cheeks, lips parted, breath steady. Some mornings, Jungkook did the same.

And still, time moved.

But no matter the season, no matter how long the days stretched or how fast the months passed, one thing remained constant:

They always came home to each other.

It began like it used to.

A letter, left gently on the edge of Jungkook’s vanity, no name, no date, only words pressed into soft parchment, folded once, just enough for curiosity to slip between the seams of routine. Jungkook had just stepped out of the shower when he saw it. The familiar cream-colored paper looked almost misplaced beside his moisturizers and jewelry tray. His heart paused, as if recognizing something it hadn’t been fed in a while.

He picked it up, hands still damp. His thumb brushed the edge, a strange warmth flooding his chest before he even opened it.

And then he read.

“For the boy who found home in borrowed sweaters and quiet nights.”

“Meet me where the windows rattle in summer storms,
where the garden hose never coils right,
where we first sat side by side in a silence that didn’t need to be filled."
“Come home.”
“I’ll be waiting.”

There was no name. But there didn’t need to be.

At the very bottom, in small, careful print, was the address of a place Jungkook hadn’t been to in a long time.

Taehyung’s house.

An old, sun-worn property nestled in a quiet part of town. A place full of creaking floors, untamed vines, the house had sat still for years now, mostly empty. Taehyung’s mother, who was almost always away. The house only stirred to life when Taehyung visited to water plants or retrieve a memory.

Today, it waited for something else.

Jungkook’s hands shook slightly as he set the letter down. His heart fluttered with something tender, something inevitable. His fingers brushed over the lock screen of his phone, where Taehyung smiled beside him.

He stood before his mirror, fingers gently smoothing over the fabric draped across his frame.

The dress was a delicate shade of lavender. It flowed effortlessly from his shoulders to just below his knees, made of chiffon so light it moved with even the faintest breath of wind. The bodice hugged him subtly, cinched at the waist with a ribbon-like tie that added a gentle shape without constraint.

It was sleeveless, the neckline dipped just slightly into a soft heart curve, exposing the delicate line of his collarbones and the fine silver chain that rested there, a small amethyst charm hanging at the center, catching light like a secret.

His hair was slightly curled, still damp at the ends from his earlier shower, parted down the middle, and curling softly at his jaw. A single lilac clip held back a few strands behind one ear, the color almost melting into the tones of his dress. His skin glowed, faintly flushed from anticipation, and his lips had been dabbed with a muted rose tint, just enough to bring color to his already expressive face.

Around his wrists, two dainty bracelets jingled ever so faintly as he moved. On his feet, he wore pale cream flats with thin ribbon straps that tied delicately around his ankles, like something out of a dream, and were easy to walk in.

As he stood there, framed by the quiet light spilling through the window, he looked like something out of a whispered memory. Soft. Elegant. Entirely his own. The apartment door clicked shut behind him, the sun warming the air as he stepped outside, lavender chiffon brushing against his legs with every careful stride.

The city around him hummed with its usual life, but Jungkook felt like he was walking through water, everything soft, slow, surreal. A quiet part of him trembled, not with fear, but with something deeper.

He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t need to. The letter had said enough.

The house looked exactly the same.

The ivy still curled along the left post of the gate, stubborn and lovely. The porch still had that slight dip in the third step that creaked when you placed your weight wrong. The windows still looked half-asleep, curtains pulled aside just enough for sunlight to wander in.

The only difference was the silence.

And the gentle scent of fresh roses.

Jungkook stepped through the gate cautiously, like he was walking into a dream. The backyard opened before him slowly, unfolding like a memory.

There, beneath a sprawling tree, was a circle of rose petals spread across the grass. Soft fairy lights crisscrossed overhead in a careful, glowing web, anchored between the trees and the old back fence. And standing in the very center, dressed in a pale suit with his hands tucked nervously into his coat pockets, was Taehyung.

He turned as Jungkook stepped forward, and for a moment, neither of them moved. They stared at each other across the petal-lined yard, hearts beating in rhythm with everything unspoken between them.

It wasn’t cinematic. There was no music. No applause. Only the breath between them, the ache of knowing, the reverent pause of something sacred.

Taehyung offered a slow, trembling smile.

And then, he knelt.

Jungkook’s breath hitched.

The ring wasn’t large or flashy. It didn’t sparkle like the ones in shop windows or glint like something made to show off. But it was beautiful. Delicate silver wrapped around itself in soft curves, forming a quiet band of tulips, subtle and tender, like petals mid-bloom. The pattern ran all the way around, etched so gently it looked like it had always been part of Jungkook’s skin.

Taehyung had it made.

Now, it gleamed softly between them, catching the golden spill of afternoon light.

Taehyung’s voice was quiet.

But steady.

“You’ve always been home for me, Jungkook.”

“Even when I didn’t know what I wanted. Even when I was afraid to say it.”

“And every version of me, shy, scared, too stubborn to tell you how I felt, every one of them has loved you.”

“So I’m asking now, clearly, finally…”

“Will you build the rest of your life with me?”

Jungkook didn’t answer right away.

He couldn’t. Tears blurred his vision, his hand rising to his mouth. The petals, the scent of summer grass, the shape of Taehyung on one knee, all of it cracked something open inside him.

Because he remembered.

He remembered this yard from their first year, the way it always felt like a small, quiet world just for them. He remembered the afternoon they got caught in the rain and Taehyung pulled him under the narrow overhang by the back door, both of them soaked and breathless, Taehyung’s grin wide and ridiculous.

He remembered collapsing on the living room floor after finals, his cheek resting on Taehyung’s shoulder, both of them too tired to move. The hoodie Taehyung draped over him without asking. The first tea they ever spilled, messy and warm and close, like everything they hadn’t said yet was still waiting between them.

Every quiet, unspoken, hopeful thing had led them here.

So he nodded.

Then, breathlessly, he whispered, “Yes, Tae. God, yes.”

Taehyung stood, laughing softly as he slipped the ring onto Jungkook’s finger, eyes bright and wet.

Behind the old shed, a sudden burst of laughter and cheering erupted.

From behind the quiet curtain of dusk, their friends emerged like echoes of time, Jin, radiant with overdue joy, his applause loud enough to shake the past loose. Hoseok, a burst of golden light, grinning like the world had tilted toward its better half. Jimin, clinging gently to Yoongi’s arm, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, and Yoongi beside him, steady as ever, with a smile that held the weight of years.

Near the doorway, half-veiled in soft curtain light, stood Taehyung’s mother, a silhouette of strength and distance, her gaze soft with the kind of pride that doesn’t need words, smiling for the boy who had once been quiet, and now had found his voice in love.

Laughter spilled like wind through leaves, arms wrapped around shoulders like old promises rediscovered, and tears shimmered, saltwater offerings to a joy too wide for just one heart.

But in the eye of it all, Taehyung and Jungkook remained still.

The world dancing around them, and yet it was them who felt like the center of all gravity. Petals curled like breath around their feet, fairy lights blinked like constellations overhead, and between the noise and stillness, their foreheads touched, like the quietest kind of vow.

It wasn’t grand. It wasn’t loud.

But it was true.

Every version of themselves, from strangers in a classroom, to hearts scrawling letters in the dark, had stepped through time to arrive here. Not perfect. But home.

Because home was never a place.

It had always been each other. And now, it was forever.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗