Chapter 13: chapter 12

Jungkook wakes up to the smell of coffee.

He blinks against the early morning light, groggy and disoriented, before realizing where he is.

Taehyung’s apartment.

He must have fallen asleep here again.

He always does.

With a groan, he stretches, his body protesting against the awkward position he had curled into on the couch. His hoodie is twisted around his torso, and the blanket Taehyung must have thrown over him during the night is slipping onto the floor.

He sits up, rubbing his eyes.

In the kitchen, Taehyung is standing by the counter, coffee cup in hand, dressed in his usual crisp suit. His back is straight, posture rigid, every movement precise.

Jungkook watches him for a moment before yawning loudly.

Taehyung glances over. “You’re awake.”

Jungkook grins, voice rough from sleep. “Good morning to you too, hyung.”

Taehyung doesn’t respond. Instead, he places a second cup of coffee on the counter.

Jungkook blinks.

Then without questioning it he gets up, shuffling over to grab the cup. He takes a sip.

It’s bitter. Too strong. Just the way Taehyung likes it.

Jungkook makes a face. “Hyung, do you drink this stuff or use it to revive the dead?”

Taehyung sips his own coffee, unimpressed. “It’s coffee.”

Jungkook sighs dramatically, setting his cup down. “I’ll make my own.”

As he rummages through the cabinets, he speaks without looking back. “You’re getting used to me, huh?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer.

But Jungkook knows.

Because Taehyung let him stay. Taehyung made coffee. Taehyung didn’t question his presence.

And for someone like Kim Taehyung...

That says everything.

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Taehyung’s morning is routine. Meetings, reports, a conference call with international clients. Everything follows a strict order, predictable and structured.

Until his phone vibrates.

Jungkook: Hyung, if I skip class, will you yell at me?

Taehyung sighs, already tired.

Taehyung: Yes.

Jungkook: What if I have a good reason?

Taehyung: You don’t.

A pause. Then...

Jungkook: What if I say my reason is that I miss you?

Taehyung’s fingers hover over the keyboard.

For some reason, he hesitates.

Then he types:

Taehyung: Go to class, Jungkook.

No response.

Taehyung puts his phone away.

And yet, even as he goes back to work, his mind lingers elsewhere.

On Jungkook’s words.

On the way his chest tightened just slightly after reading them. But he don't desrve Jungkook. Jungkook desrve better, someone who can feel, someone who understand his emotions.

Taehyung can't, he born that way.

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Jungkook doesn’t go home.

Instead, he finds himself wandering through campus long after his last class ends, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his thoughts heavier than usual.

It’s not the group project. It’s not the exhaustion from assignments piling up.

It’s Taehyung.

Jungkook has always known his feelings. Has always carried them, unspoken but constant, woven into the way he looks at Taehyung, the way he teases him, the way he lingers in his space.

But Taehyung...

Taehyung doesn’t understand.

And Jungkook doesn’t know how long he’s willing to wait for him to.

With a sigh, he pulls out his phone and, before he can overthink it, he types a message.

Jungkook: Hyung, are you home?

The reply comes minutes later.

Taehyung: Yes.

Jungkook exhales.

Then he makes a decision.

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The doorbell rings.

Taehyung opens it without surprise.

Jungkook steps inside without waiting for permission.

Taehyung watches him, expression unreadable. “You didn’t say you were coming.”

Jungkook shrugs. “I never do.”

A pause.

Then, quietly....

“Do you mind?”

Taehyung exhales. “No.”

Jungkook’s lips twitch. “See? Getting used to me.”

Taehyung doesn’t deny it.

Instead, he walks to the kitchen, pulling out two bowls. “Eat first.”

Jungkook follows, sliding into his usual seat.

As they eat, they don’t talk much. But the silence is comfortable, the kind that doesn’t feel heavy.

Jungkook stirs his food absentmindedly. Then, without looking up, he says, “Hyung, what am I to you?”

Taehyung pauses, chopsticks halting mid-air.

Jungkook meets his gaze, his usual teasing demeanor absent. “What am I to you?”

Taehyung blinks.

The question isn’t unexpected. But it’s something he’s never thought about.

Or maybe something he’s avoided thinking about.

Jungkook doesn’t push. He just watches, waiting.

Taehyung finally speaks. “You’re Jungkook.”

Jungkook snorts. “No shit.”

Taehyung frowns. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

Jungkook sighs, leaning back. “Figures.”

Silence stretches between them.

Then, Jungkook laughs softly. “It’s fine, hyung. You don’t have to know.”

Taehyung studies him.

There’s something in Jungkook’s expression something quiet. Not disappointment, not anger. Just a tired kind of acceptance.

And for some reason, it unsettles him.

Jungkook falls asleep on the couch again.

Taehyung stands by the doorway, watching him.

He should wake him up. Tell him to go home.

But he doesn’t. He never does that. And he never going to.

Instead, he pulls the blanket over him, fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary.

Then he steps away, staring at the quiet rise and fall of Jungkook’s chest.

He doesn’t know what Jungkook is to him.

But...

He knows this:

Jungkook is always here.

Taehyung let him.

And when he is, Taehyung feels something.

Something he doesn’t understand.

But something, nonetheless.

🐻🐰