Jungkook wakes up to the sound of quiet movements in the kitchen.
For a second, he forgets where he is. Then the scent of fresh coffee hits him, and he remembers.
Taehyungâs apartment. Again.
He sits up, stretching his stiff muscles. The blanket draped over him pools at his waist. He smirks.
Taehyung never says much, but he always does things like this.
Jungkook rubs his eyes, standing and making his way toward the kitchen.
Taehyung is standing by the counter, stirring his coffee. Heâs already dressed in his usual pressed suit, his tie knotted perfectly.
Jungkook leans against the doorframe, voice rough with sleep. âMorning, hyung.â
Taehyung barely looks up. âYouâre still here.â
Jungkook grins. âYou can't come to kitchen without crossing the living room hyung and I was literally sleeping on the couch. Why question me like you don't care?â
Taehyung doesnât respond. He simply pours a second cup of coffee and slides it across the counter.
Jungkook blinks at it.
Then, without a word, he picks it up and takes a sip.
This time, itâs different.
Itâs not as bitter.
Still strong, but with a little sugar.
Jungkook stares at his cup, then at Taehyung. His chest tightens.
Taehyung doesnât realize it. But Jungkook does.
Taehyung is changing.
Even if he doesnât understand it yet.
..
.
.
.
Jungkook sits at his desk, zoning out as his professor drones on about project deadlines.
His mind is elsewhere.
On last night. On this morning.
On Taehyung.
He thinks about the way Taehyung answered his question yesterday.... without answering it at all.
He shouldâve expected it. Taehyung doesnât know. Maybe he never will.
But Jungkook does.
And heâs starting to wonder how long can he keep waiting?
His phone vibrates in his pocket.
He pulls it out and glances at the screen.
A message.
From Taehyung.
Taehyung: Do you want to have dinner tonight?
Jungkook blinks.
For a second, he just stares at the words.
Then he exhales, typing back.
Jungkook: Time?
The reply comes quickly.
Taehyung: 8.00 pm?
Jungkook smiles.
Then he types,
Jungkook: Okay.
And just like that, he decides....
Heâll wait a little longer.
.
.
.
.
Jungkook twirls his chopsticks between his fingers. âYou know, hyung, this is suspicious.â
Taehyung looks up from his bowl. âWhat is?â
Jungkook grins. âYou. Asking me to dinner.â
Taehyung stares at him, expression unreadable. âYou always eat my food. I assumed this was the logical alternative.â
Jungkook snorts. âSo, this is your way of saying youâre sick of feeding me?â
Taehyung exhales. âI didnât say that.â
Jungkook leans forward, resting his chin on his hand. âThen what did you mean?â
Taehyung doesnât answer immediately. Instead, he picks up his glass of water, taking a slow sip.
âI donât know.â
Jungkook stills.
Itâs not the answer he expected. But itâs not surprising, either.
Taehyung doesnât know what this is.
What they are.
And maybe that should bother Jungkook more than it does.
But it doesnât.
Not yet.
So, instead of pushing, he just smiles. âThatâs okay, hyung.â
Taehyung stares at him for a long moment. Then he nods.
And they eat in comfortable silence.
.
.
.
Jungkook is standing by the door, putting on his shoes.
For once, heâs going home.
Taehyung watches him.
For some reason, it feels strange.
Jungkook always stays.
But tonight, heâs leaving.
Taehyung doesnât know why that bothers him.
Jungkook glances up, catching his stare. He tilts his head. âWhat?â
Taehyung shakes his head. âNothing.â
Jungkook smirks. âYouâre bad at lying, hyung.â
Taehyung doesnât respond.
Jungkook sighs, standing up straight. âIâll see you tomorrow?â
Taehyung nods.
Jungkook watches him for a second longer. Then he opens the door.
And for the first time, Taehyung does something different.
âJungkook.â
Jungkook stops. Turns around.
Taehyung meets his gaze.
And he says, âGoodnight.â
Jungkook blinks.
Then he smiles. A small, quiet thing.
âGoodnight, hyung.â
And as the door closes behind him, Taehyung exhales.
He doesnât understand this.
But he knows one thing.
Jungkookâs presence has always been loud.
And now, his absence is even louder.