Chapter 48: 47.Offer

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The group sat comfortably, laughter filling the room as they indulged in Jin’s array of mouthwatering snacks.

Hoseok, with his usual dramatic flair, collapsed onto the couch with a drink in hand. “God, it’s already so fun! I’m curious what surprises the night still has for us!” he exclaimed, throwing his head back for added effect.

Amy chuckled, savoring a forkful of cake. “Honestly, Jin hyung, your baking is out of this world. This cake is perfection.”

Jin smirked, flicking his invisible long hair. “Well, what can I say? Excellence flows through me naturally.” His faux arrogance had everyone laughing.

“You know,” jimin deadpanned as he nibbled on a pastry, “one day, you should actually name a dish after yourself. Maybe call it ‘Worldwide Handsome Pie.’”

Yoongi, with a drink, couldn’t help but laugh. “Please don’t encourage him. Jin doesn’t need any more reasons to inflate his ego.”

Jimin joined in, teasing, “Hyung’s already acting like a Michelin-star chef. Next thing you know, he’ll have a cooking show called

*‘Bite Me by Jin.’*”

Everyone burst out laughing, and Jin, not missing a beat, leaned into the joke. “Don’t tempt me. I might just do it—and you’ll all be my first guests.”

Meanwhile, Jaybum sat perched on his chair, stuffing cookies into his mouth. His cheeks puffed like a squirrel hoarding food for winter, earning an amused glance from Amy.

“Jaybum, slow down!” Jimin scolded playfully. “You’re going to finish the entire plate!”

Jaybum shook his head furiously, his voice muffled through the cookies. “No, I won’t! I’ll save one for TaeTae!”

“Aw, that’s sweet of you,” Amy said, smiling warmly.

“Though,” Jimin said, glancing around, “where is Tae? And Namjoon hyung? They’ve been gone for a while.”

Everyone turned their attention to the other side of the room.

Namjoon stood with a group of his friends, casually chatting and laughing, while Taehyung stood beside him, clearly being introduced to the group. Though he smiled politely, his body language was stiff, and it was clear he felt out of place.

“They’re over there,” Yoongi pointed out, his sharp eyes catching Taehyung subtly inching away from one man in particular, who seemed far too comfortable invading Taehyung’s personal space.

Jaybum’s eyes narrowed as he watched the scene. He tugged at Jimin’s sleeve, his little face scrunching in displeasure. “Uncle Chim, why is that man getting so close to my TaeTae?”

Jimin stifled a laugh, patting the boy’s head. “They’re just talking, bun. Don’t worry about it.”

But Jaybum wasn’t convinced. He crossed his arms, huffing indignantly. “I don’t like it. TaeTae is for me and dadda.”

Before Jimin could respond, a deep, firm voice cut through the lighthearted chatter. “Jimin, take care of Jaybum.”

All heads turned to Jungkook, who had been quietly observing the scene from his seat.

His usual easygoing demeanor was replaced by something sharper, more protective. His dark eyes were locked on Taehyung, or more specifically, on the man standing too close to him.  “Uh-oh,” Hoseok murmured, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “Looks like someone’s about to get a reality check.”

“Who’s going to stop him?” Yoongi asked dryly, raising an eyebrow.

“No one,” Jin said with a smirk, sipping his drink. “This is going to be interesting.”

Jungkook walked, his posture commanding as he walked toward Namjoon’s group. His strides were measured but firm, each step radiating quiet authority. The chatter in the room hushed as everyone’s attention shifted toward him.

“So, you moved to Seoul a few months ago?” Woojin asked, his tone overly familiar as he leaned closer, laughing at his own words as though they were the height of wit.

“Haha, yeah,” Taehyung replied, forcing a polite smile despite the growing discomfort evident in his body language.

“Don’t worry,” Woojin continued, oblivious or indifferent to the unease radiating from Taehyung. “I’ll show you around Seoul. It’s an amazing city, and I—”

Woojin’s words abruptly stopped when Jungkook appeared out of nowhere, stepping between the two. His  presence was commanding, his dark eyes fixed on Woojin with an intensity that silenced him immediately.

“Tae,” Jungkook said, his voice calm but firm, “Jaybum’s calling for you. Let’s go.”

Without waiting for a reply, Jungkook’s hand found its place on Taehyung’s waist,guiding him gently but protectively away. However, Woojin wasn’t ready to back down so easily.

“Wait,” Woojin said, grabbing Taehyung’s wrist. “I was talking to him. What gives you the right to interrupt?”

Jungkook stopped in his tracks. His jaw clenched, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he slowly turned to face Woojin.

His gaze dropped to the hand gripping Taehyung, his expression darkening.

“Well, too bad,” Jungkook said, his tone colder than ice.

“He works for me, and my son is asking for him.”

Effortlessly, Jungkook pried Taehyung’s hand from Woojin’s grip and pulled him away. The firm yet gentle hold of Jungkook’s hand on his waist made Taehyung’s face heat up, leaving him too flustered to say anything as they walked back toward the group.

When they reached the table, Jungkook guided Taehyung to sit beside Jaybum. The boy immediately hugged Taehyung, his small arms wrapping tightly around him. Jungkook, meanwhile, took the seat on Taehyung’s other side, his posture protective.

“TaeTae, you’re back!” Jaybum said cheerfully, oblivious to the tension that lingered in the air.

Namjoon, seated across from them, looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, Tae. I know you were uncomfortable back there. I tried to get you out of the conversation earlier, but it seems I didn’t do enough.”

Taehyung shook his head, offering a small smile. “Don’t worry, hyung. It’s nothing.”

Namjoon sighed in relief. “Still, don’t worry, bear. I’ll make sure to deny his offer.”

Before Taehyung could respond, Jungkook’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

“What offer?” he asked, frowning deeply as he sipped his drink.

Namjoon hesitated, his gaze darting between Jungkook and Taehyung. “I… uh… they asked for Tae’s—”

“It’s nothing, Jungkook,” Taehyung interjected quickly, his voice flustered. “Just some stupid deal.”

But Jungkook wasn’t satisfied. His expression darkened further as he placed his drink down with a sharp clink. His voice, low and commanding, sent a shiver through everyone present.

“I asked,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument, “what offer, Kim?”

The table fell silent, the lighthearted atmosphere vanishing in an instant. Taehyung struggled to find the right words, his eyes darting to Namjoon for help. Namjoon, seeing no way out, finally admitted the truth.

“They asked for Taehyung’s hand in marriage.”

The sound of glass shattering filled the air. Everyone flinched as they turned to see the remnants of Jungkook’s glass scattered across the table, his hand bleeding slightly from gripping it too tightly.

“Jungkook!” Taehyung exclaimed, quickly grabbing his hand and inspecting it for injuries. Thankfully, the cuts were shallow, but Taehyung’s concern was evident.

Yoongi signaled a waiter to clean up the mess as Jin handed Taehyung a napkin to press against Jungkook’s hand.

“Are you crazy?” Taehyung scolded, his voice filled with both worry and frustration.

Before anyone could say anything further, Woojin’s voice interrupted from nearby.

“Taehyung,” he said, standing beside their table, “I was thinking… when should we meet again?”

Jungkook’s gaze snapped to Woojin, his dark eyes burning with barely restrained fury. “Too bad,” he said, his voice dangerously low, “but I don’t like sharing what’s mine.”

Woojin’s expression twisted in irritation. “Excuse me? I wasn’t talking to you, so back off.”

Jungkook stood abruptly, his towering frame intimidating Woojin instantly.

“Jungkook, stop,” Taehyung said, stepping between them. Turning to Woojin, he  squared his shoulders, his voice steady and firm.

“Look, Mr. Woojin,” Taehyung said, his tone sharp. “I’m not interested in going out with you or talking to you further. Please understand that.”

“But—” Woojin began, only to be cut off by Taehyung’s piercing gaze.

“I said what I said, Mr. Woojin,” Taehyung continued, his voice unwavering. “And next time, I suggest you ask for my permission before touching me. I hope I’ve made myself clear.”

Woojin faltered, his face flushing with embarrassment as he realized the attention of the entire group was on him. Without another word, he turned and walked away, his shoulders stiff with humiliation.

Taehyung let out a quiet sigh, turning back to the table to see everyone watching him with a mixture of pride and relief.

Jungkook, still standing, looked down at Taehyung with a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Taehyung avoided his gaze, sitting back down as Jaybum leaned against him with a happy hum.

“Well,” Jin said, breaking the silence with a smirk, “that was the most entertaining thing I’ve seen all night.”

The tension eased slightly as laughter rippled through the group, but Jungkook’s protective presence beside Taehyung remained unwavering.

Hoseok leaned back in his chair, laughter bubbling up as he recalled Jungkook's earlier words.

“Yeah, that line! ‘I don’t like to share what’s mine.’ Damn, Jeon, that was one of the finest lines you’ve ever delivered,” Hoseok teased, clapping his hands in amusement.

The group erupted into laughter, their earlier tension dissolving into a lighthearted atmosphere.

Jungkook, however, froze at the reminder, his jaw tightening as he replayed his own words in his head. His ears burned, and his usual confidence seemed to falter.

“I… uh…” Jungkook stammered, rubbing the back of his neck as he took a seat beside Taehyung.

“Taehyung just looked uncomfortable with that guy, that’s all. That’s why I said it,” he lied, avoiding everyone’s gaze. His hand reached for his glass of water,anything to keep himself occupied and away from their prying eyes.

Jimin, who was sitting across from him, smirked knowingly. “Yeah, sure, Kook,” he said, his tone laced with teasing. “That’s the *only* reason, huh?”

Jungkook shot him a quick glare but didn’t respond. His eyes briefly flickered to Taehyung, who was staring down at his lap, clearly flustered by the entire situation.