Chapter Text
𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋🎧ྀི playing - Numb by Lim Yeon
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The kitchen was unusually quiet as Jungkook sat at the table, idly scrolling through his phone. His chin rested on his palm, and a bored sigh escaped him. The stillness was interrupted by the soft clink of ceramic against the table. Jungkook looked up, startled, to see a steaming cup of coffee and a freshly made pancake placed in front of him.
"Here's your breakfast," Taehyung's deep, nonchalant voice filled the space.
Jungkook frowned, staring at the food in confusion. "I didn't ask for this," he muttered, but still reached for the cup.
Taehyung, standing tall and composed, crossed his arms. "I know."
With a huff, Jungkook took a cautious sip of the coffee—and to his surprise, it was perfect. Sweet, just the way he liked it. His eyebrows rose as he looked back up at Taehyung. "How did you know I like my coffee extra sweetened?"
Taehyung smirked faintly,. "I know a few things about people. You're the type who tries to look sophisticated by drinking coffee but can't stand the actual taste."
Jungkook glared, scoffing as he set the cup down. "You—" He pointed an accusatory finger at Taehyung. "The audacity. You think you know everything about me?"
Taehyung's smirk deepened as he turned to leave, throwing over his shoulder, "I don't think. I know."
As Jungkook lay in bed, his body exhausted but his mind restless, fragmented memories began to surface in his dreams.
The first was of that very moment—how Taehyung knew details about him that he never told anyone, but he was coped up in the mess with his father that Jungkook didn't ever actually stopped to think why was it so? Then came others, unspooling like a reel: The memories shifted, darkening into nightmares.
"And here I am," Jungkook murmured, his voice tinged with regret, "making your job even more difficult."
"Difficult?" Taehyung repeated, his tone laced with playful teasing. "Hardly."
"Honestly," Taehyung whispered, his voice raw with honesty and something deeper, "it's you who makes my job a lot easier.
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Jungkook stretched lazily on the couch, his bare feet propped comfortably on Taehyung's lap. His lips were pursed into a pout, "Cap... I'm so dependent on you now," he mumbled, feigning exasperation. "You alone do the work of all."
Taehyung's lips curved into a sly grin as he gripped Jungkook's ankle, giving it a teasing tug. "That's the plan," he replied smoothly, his voice warm yet playful. "So I can keep you all to myself. No one else gets to watch over you but me."
Jungkook raised a brow, his pout slowly transforming into an amused smirk. "Oh? Is that so?" he teased, his tone laced with mock suspicion. "Don't wanna share me with anyone else?"
Taehyung's grin deepened as his fingers brushed over Jungkook's foot in a light, absentminded caress. "Not even for a second," he admitted. His dark eyes glimmered with something unspoken,
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"Why are you so nice to me?" Taehyung whispered against his skin, his voice low and rough. "So good to me? You shouldn't be."
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"We can trust each other..." Jungkook said, letting the sentence hang for a moment, the words dripping with something unspoken. "But the question is... should we?"
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Jungkook's grip tightened on Taehyung's hands, his wide eyes searching Taehyung's face with suspicion and desperation. He can but should he trust him?
"Can I... Can I really trust you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
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Jungkook's dream-self staggered back into the abyss, the world around him dark and cold. He clutched his chest, his mind screaming questions he couldn't escape.
Why didn't I see it earlier?
Why didn't I question him more?
Why didn't I protect myself?
His chest felt like it was caving in, a weight too heavy to bear pressing against his heart. He sank to his knees, his trembling fingers reaching out to the nothingness that surrounded him.
When did I stop asking myself whether I should trust him? And why I had to?
Tears burned his eyes, hot streaks running down his cheeks as he gasped for air. His voice cracked as he whimpered into the void, his mind screaming the one question that hurt the most.
Why did I have to find out now... after I fell so stupidly for his lies? Why not before?
Jungkook jolted awake with a sharp gasp, his chest heaving as though he'd been running for miles. The tears staining his cheeks were cold now, but fresh ones threatened to fall as he clutched at his heart.
The room around him was dimly lit. His eyes darted around, desperate to ground himself. The sleek furniture, the faint scent of cologne lingering in the air—it was all familiar, but now felt distant.
His body trembled as he swung his legs off the bed, his breath hitching in uneven sobs. He buried his face in his hands, his fingers digging into his scalp as he tried to steady himself.
Then, hushed whispers reached his ears.
His head snapped up, his body going rigid. The soft, muffled voices just beyond the door were indistinct, but the familiarity in them sent a chill down his spine.
Jungkook stood abruptly, his bare feet padding softly. His eyes darted toward the window, but it was too high up, and the room was sealed tight. His mind raced as he scanned the room for anything he could use to protect himself.
His gaze landed on a small cutter resting on the desk. He snatched it up and hid it behind his back.
Moving toward the door, Jungkook leaned in carefully, pressing his ear to the wood. The voices were faint, but the tension in their tone was unmistakable.
He swallowed hard, his grip on the cutter tightening. Pressing his ear against the wood, he strained to make out the conversation on the other side.
A familiar voice, frustrated and sharp, broke through the muffled barrier. "How could you leave the keys at home, Taehyung? Seriously, what's happening to you?"
"I was in a hurry yesterday, okay?" Taehyung snapped back, defensive but quieter. "I didn't mean to."
The other voice, cold and accusatory, cut in the air like a blade. "That's exactly why I told you not to get involved like this. You've wavered, Taehyung. The boss won't like it."
Taehyung's tone hardened. "There's nothing to tell him. He doesn't know yet, and he won't. Not until I have something solid to show him."
A beat of silence passed, and then the other voice spoke again, lower, almost hissing. "You've managed to hold him off until now, but how much longer do you think you can keep this up?"
Jungkook leaned closer, his fingers clutching the cutter tighter, his knuckles turning white. He was desperate to catch every word, but suddenly, the voices ceased.
Too quiet.
His brow furrowed as he pressed harder against the door, trying to hear anything—
The door swung open abruptly, and Jungkook stumbled back, his heart leaping into his throat. Taehyung stood there, his eyes sharp and cold, glaring down at him.
"Oh, look who's awake," Taehyung drawled, his tone dripping with mockery.
Jungkook panicked, his breath hitching as he instinctively raised the cutter. His hand trembled, but his resolve burned in his wide, glassy eyes.
Taehyung looked at the weapon with a bored expression, his lips curling into a smirk. With a swift, calculated flick of his wrist, he struck Jungkook's hand, sending the cutter clattering to the floor.
"You never learn, do you?" Taehyung muttered, his voice low and threatening. He grabbed Jungkook's wrist with an iron grip, pulling him forward.
"Let me go!" Jungkook hissed, struggling against him, his voice frantic.
Taehyung didn't budge, pushing him through the threshold with practiced ease. "Come on," he said flatly. "It's time for you to meet someone."
Jungkook stumbled forward, his bare feet skidding against the cold floor as Taehyung forced him to stand in front of the man who had been speaking moments earlier.
When Jungkook finally looked up, his entire body froze, the blood draining from his face. His voice came out in a broken whisper. "Jin hyung?"
Seokjin stood there, his hands clasped behind his back, his face calm and unreadable. His usual warmth was absent, replaced by a chilling indifference that made Jungkook's stomach churn.
Seokjin's eyes flicked over Jungkook and then he turned to Taehyung, his voice measured and cold. "How are you going to make sure he stays quiet now?"
Taehyung stepped behind Jungkook, his presence looming, and leaned in close. His lips brushed the shell of Jungkook's ear as he spoke, his voice soft but clearly intended for Seokjin. "He won't. He's smart." Taehyung's eyes locked with Seokjin's over Jungkook's shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. "He wouldn't want his Namjoon hyung to be hurt, would he?"
Jungkook's breath hitched as Taehyung continued, his tone almost mocking. "Just imagine how much it would hurt to find out that the person you married has been living a double life. It'd be devastating, don't you think?"
Jungkook's wide eyes filled with tears as he turned to Seokjin, searching for a shred of the affection and trust he once knew. His voice trembled with disbelief. "How... how could you?"
But Seokjin didn't look at him. His gaze remained fixed on Taehyung, his expression unyielding. "Take care of it," he said, his tone final, as if Jungkook's emotions were an inconvenience to be dealt with. "Before it blows up in our faces."
The words hit Jungkook like a punch to the gut. His knees felt weak, his breath shallow as he tried to process the betrayal unfolding before him.
Seokjin didn't spare him another glance as he left from there while Taehyung’s grip on Jungkook's wrist tightened, grounding him yet pulling him forward with a force. Jungkook’s legs stumbled as Taehyung dragged him into the living room, pushing him onto the couch.
“Don’t try to act smart,” Taehyung said coolly, dusting off his hands as if nothing had happened. “You can’t win anyway. So let’s just sit and talk, yah?”
Jungkook stared up at him, his body trembling. His lips parted, his voice barely a whisper, drenched in confusion and disbelief. “Seokjin hyung… he…?”
Taehyung raised an eyebrow and sat down across from him, legs crossed, his demeanor annoyingly calm. “My cousin. My mother’s nephew.”
Jungkook blinked, his mind reeling. “Your… cousin?” His voice cracked, and he felt his breathing grow ragged, his chest heaving.
Taehyung tilted his head, observing Jungkook’s unraveling with a faint smirk. “Oh, you look like you’re going to pass out again. Want me to get you some water?”
Jungkook’s eyes snapped up to meet Taehyung’s. The cold calm in the Captain’s expression set his blood boiling. His voice trembled with rage as he asked, “How… how can you act like this? So calm? So... so damn casual? After everything? How fucking dare you!”
The fury in his voice cracked through the air, but Taehyung only blinked lazily, his smirk deepening. “And how exactly do you want me to act?” he asked, his tone dripping with mockery. “Do you want me to cry? Apologize? Beg for forgiveness? Newsflash, Jungkook—” he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, “—you found out. Good. It means I don’t have to pretend to be nice anymore.”
Jungkook’s voice rose, anger and heartbreak mixing in a storm. “So you’ve been using me all this time? Why? Why the fuck would you do this to me? Why me?”
Taehyung stood abruptly, his silhouette casting a looming shadow over Jungkook. His lips curled into a sneer that sent shivers down Jungkook’s spine. “You were never part of my plan, to be honest,” Taehyung began, his tone venomous, each word like a dagger. “Not until your father handed me the golden opportunity I’d been waiting for…”
Jungkook’s lips trembled, his voice breaking as he whispered, “What opportunity?”
Taehyung’s eyes gleamed with disdain, his voice low and deliberate. “He made me your bodyguard. Kept me close. Trusted me with you—his precious son.” Taehyung let out a cold, mirthless laugh. “At first, you were nothing more than a spoiled brat. A goddamn headache. No direction, no spine. But then…” He tilted his head, his expression twisting into something darker. “Then you started being useful. You practically handed me the means to tear him apart.”
Jungkook’s body froze, his mind reeling as he tried to piece it together. “But I…” He stuttered, his voice heavy with confusion and remorse.
Taehyung’s laugh came sharp and bitter, cutting Jungkook off. “You,” he spat, his voice thick with mockery. “You gave me the biggest tool, Jungkook.” He leaned closer, his face inches from Jungkook’s, his next words a lethal whisper. “Your mother.”
Jungkook’s entire body seized, his blood running cold as the realization hit him. His breathing turned shallow, and his eyes widened in horror. “I swear to God,” he growled, his voice trembling with unfiltered rage, “if you so much as lay a finger on her, I will fucking kill you.”
Taehyung didn’t flinch at the threat. Instead, he leaned down further, his sneer deepening, his tone almost taunting. “Kill me?” he echoed, chuckling darkly. “You already did half my work for me.” He straightened, his expression shifting into cruel satisfaction. “Who do you think took me to that old house? Your father’s fortress of secrets? Who led me straight to the past he tried so hard to bury?”
Jungkook’s heart sank, his stomach churning as he whispered, “No…”
“Oh, yes,” Taehyung hissed, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “It was you, Jungkook. You gave me the key to his downfall. You took me inside his house, letting me stay in the room where he had stored the remnants of his past, to the truths he didn’t want anyone to uncover. You showed me the witness who could ruin him.”
Jungkook shot up from the couch, his fists shaking as he grabbed Taehyung by the collar. His voice broke as he seethed, “You knew I hated him. You knew. So why? What the fuck did you gain by deceiving me? You could’ve just—”
His voice cracked as the weight of everything threatened to crush him. He thought of all the moments he’d let his walls down, all the trust he’d given so willingly. He would’ve done anything for Taehyung if he’d only asked. Why did it have to be this way?
Taehyung’s grip snapped around Jungkook’s wrists, forcing him to let go. His hold was bruising, his tone laced with venom as he spat, “You think your petty hate for your father compares to what I feel?”
Jungkook froze, fear creeping into his bones as Taehyung’s eyes burned with unrestrained hatred.
“You hated him because he didn’t love you the way you wanted. You wanted him to fail so you could feel better about yourself. That’s it. That’s your grand reason.” Taehyung’s lips curled into a sneer, his voice dripping with scorn. “But me? I want him destroyed. I want him to lose everything—his power, his pride, his goddamn sanity. I want him to wake up every day in a living hell, begging for death but too scared to take it.”
Jungkook’s breath hitched. The sheer malice in Taehyung’s voice left him paralyzed.
Taehyung leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Imagine being at the top of the world and having it all ripped away in an instant. Imagine wanting to die every single day but not being able to. That’s the hell I want for him.”
Jungkook’s voice wavered as he stammered, “You’re insane… you… you can’t—”
Taehyung’s grip tightened, cutting him off. “You can’t do it, can you? Because at the end of the day, he’s still your father. You’ll hate him, but you’ll never cross that line. But me? I will. I will show him what a true hell is...”
Jungkook’s body trembled, fear coursing through him as Taehyung’s words sank in. He saw the hatred in Taehyung’s eyes, the kind that left no room for mercy, and for the first time, he realized just how deeply Taehyung’s pain ran.
Jungkook’s knees buckled, his body giving way as he slumped to the floor. His mind was a storm of emotions—fear clawed at his chest, anger coursed through his veins, and despair weighed down his very soul.
Taehyung, standing above him, looked down with a calm, almost detached expression. He adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves as though this were just another ordinary conversation. “Tomorrow,” he said, “we’re going back to your father’s house. I’ve already informed him that I’m returning.”
Jungkook’s head snapped up, his bloodshot eyes narrowing. "Returning?” His voice cracked,
Taehyung’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “Of course. Vacation’s over, luxe. Time to get back to work.” His words felt like a dagger, twisting deeper with every syllable.
Without another glance, Taehyung turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Jungkook crumpled on the floor.
Jungkook’s hands fisted at his sides, his nails biting into his palms as tears stung his eyes. The walls seemed to close in on him, suffocating, and his chest heaved with silent sobs. He felt truly powerless against the man who once gave him warmth but now left him in the cold.
Is this how it feels? he thought bitterly, To have your trust shattered by the only person you ever trusted?
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Seokjin entered the house, his posture relaxed but his eyes scanning the room as though he were searching for something—or someone. He spotted Namjoon sitting on the couch, flipping through some papers, a deep furrow in his brow.
“Oh, you’re early,” Seokjin said with a bright smile, walking over to him.
Namjoon looked up and sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah. Mr. Jeon had to leave for an urgent trip abroad, so he called off the meeting.” He rubbed the back of his neck before his eyes softened as they landed on Seokjin. He reached up, gently cupping his cheek. “Where were you? You look… tense.”
Seokjin chuckled, shaking his head. “Nothing to worry about. I just went to meet an old friend.”
Namjoon studied him for a moment, his brows slightly furrowed, but he didn’t press further. “Have you talked to Jungkook, though? How long is he planning to stay away? He’s been using us as an excuse for days now.” He leaned forward, setting the papers down on the table. “Where is he anyway?”
Seokjin’s smile didn’t falter, though it felt like a mask. “He called this morning,” he lied smoothly. “He’s out with some friends today. Said he didn’t want bodyguards tailing him around. Don’t worry, he’ll be back tomorrow.”
Namjoon exhaled and nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Alright,” he said, standing up and stretching. “These files,” he gestured to the pile on the table, “can you put them away for me? I’m going to take a quick shower.”
“Of course,” Seokjin replied, picking up the files.
Namjoon leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to Seokjin’s temple. “After that, let’s cook dinner together, okay?”
Seokjin raised a brow, his lips twitching into a playful smile. “You? Cook? That’s new.”
Namjoon laughed as he headed toward the stairs. “I can try once in a while, can’t I? Just don’t expect a gourmet meal.”
Seokjin watched him disappear upstairs, his smile slipping the moment he was out of sight. His eyes darkened as he turned his attention back to the files in his hands.
Quietly, he carried them to the study, closing the door behind him. Sitting at the desk, he carefully flipped through the documents, pulling out his phone. He snapped photos of several pages, before sending the images to Taehyung.
Once done, Seokjin placed the files neatly back where they belonged. He stood for a moment, staring at the desk, the reflection of his double life staring back at him. Then, with a deep breath, he schooled his features into a pleasant smile and headed to the kitchen.
When Namjoon returned, damp hair falling over his forehead, Seokjin was already chopping vegetables, humming softly as though everything was perfectly normal.
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