At midnight Midnight:
The room was cloaked in shadows when Jungkook's eyes fluttered open. A dull throb echoed in his skull as he shifted slightly, squinting into the darkness. It took a few moments for his vision to adjust, but the familiar scent, the muted beige curtains, and the soft hum of the air conditioner grounded him.
Jimin's apartment.
He winced as he slowly sat up, the consequences of the night catching up to him. His head pounded from the drinks he'd shared with Taehyung, and vague flashes of the restaurant, the cab, and Jimin's doorway flickered in his hazy memory.
"Taehyung…" he mumbled, his hand reaching out toward the floor to search for his phone. But then he spotted him—Taehyung, curled peacefully on the opposite sofa, comfortably tucked under a soft duvet, his lips slightly parted in sleep. Jungkook stared for a moment, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
That's when the realization struck him.
Jimin had covered Taehyung. Jimin had made sure he was comfortable. And him?
He looked down at himself—still in yesterday's clothes, no blanket, no pillow. The ache in his chest returned—not from the hangover, but from the coldness he could now feel all over again.
It wasn't Taehyung Jimin was angry at.
It was him.
Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, the world tilting slightly as he stumbled toward the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water and leaned against the counter, staring at the closed door down the hallway. Jimin's room.
He hesitated for a long moment, but the weight in his chest was unbearable. He needed to see him. Just once.
Padding down the hall, barefoot and hesitant, he gently pushed the door open. The room was dim, lit faintly by the moonlight seeping through the curtains. Jimin lay on his side, his back facing the door. But he wasn't asleep—Jungkook could see it in the way his fingers twitched, in the subtle way his shoulders moved.
He was awake.
A soft, helpless smile curved on Jungkook's lips. Somehow, he knew.
He entered quietly, his steps slow and careful. The bed dipped slightly as he climbed in, positioning himself behind Jimin. His hand reached out, trembling slightly, and wrapped gently around Jimin's waist.
A soft inhale escaped Jimin's lips—more surprise than resistance.
Jungkook buried his face into the curve of Jimin's shoulder, his voice muffled but full of raw emotion.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath warm against Jimin's skin. "...my special one."
Jimin's throat bobbed in a silent gulp. He didn't say anything. Not yet.
But he didn't pull away either.
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§∆§
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At Morning;
The soft beams of morning sunlight filtered through the apartment's sheer curtains, Taehyung's lashes fluttered, brows furrowing slightly as consciousness crept in. He blinked open his eyes, momentarily disoriented. The ceiling above was unfamiliar,—foreign.
"Where…?" he mumbled, voice raspy.
He sat up slowly, only for a sharp throb to pierce through his skull. "Aish," he muttered, clutching his temples. The night before came to him in patches—Jungkook calling him, their tense drinks together, the cab, and that dim hallway. Everything after that was a blur.
Wincing, he swung his legs over the edge of the sofa and stood. The apartment around him was cozy, elegant without being flashy. The kind of space someone with a thoughtful personality might curate. Artfully minimal, not materialistic—intentional. Everything in its right place.
He wandered toward the kitchen, still dazed, and opened the refrigerator, sighing in relief at the sight of bottled water. He grabbed one, downed half of it in a few gulps, and leaned against the counter, staring into nothing as his memories slowly started returning.
"Jungkook..." he muttered.
They had come to apologize. That's right."This must be Jimin's apartment," he whispered to himself.
But where were Jungkook and Jimin now?
He stepped back into the living room, scanning the quiet apartment. It was too quiet.
A door caught his eye—one he vaguely remembered noticing while heading to the kitchen earlier.
With hesitant steps, he walked toward it. He knocked once.
No answer.
He knocked again, softly.
Still nothing.
Frowning, Taehyung slowly pushed the door open.
And then he froze.
His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him.
There, tangled under the light morning covers, lay Jungkook and Jimin—peaceful, still, and wrapped in each other's arms. Jungkook's face was tucked into the crook of Jimin's neck, one arm thrown protectively around his waist. Jimin's hand rested gently over Jungkook's, fingers lightly curled.
They looked like they belonged there. Not just in that bed, but with each other.
Taehyung's mouth parted slightly in surprise, but slowly, a soft, genuine smile crept across his face.
There was a time—a long time ago—when he thought he might have had something with Jungkook. A fleeting crush. A youthful fantasy. But seeing this… it felt different.
He didn't feel bitter or left out.
He felt something much simpler.
Relief. Warmth. Contentment.
"They're good for each other," he whispered, closing the door slowly without a sound.
As he walked back to the living room and sank onto the couch again, he glanced up at the ceiling with a faint grin.
"I'm rooting for you two idiots."
§∆§
Morning After;
The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. Jungkook stirred, his eyelids fluttering open as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. The unfamiliarity of the space momentarily disoriented him, but then he felt it—the warmth of another body beside him. He turned his head slightly and saw Jimin, still asleep, nestled against him.
A wave of comfort washed over him. The events of the previous night came rushing back—the tension, the apologies, the silent understanding. He had feared that their bond might have been irreparably damaged, but now, lying here with Jimin, he felt a flicker of hope.
Jimin shifted slightly, his breath warm against Jungkook's chest. Jungkook smiled softly, tightening his hold around him. He didn't want to let go, not now, not ever.
But as the minutes ticked by, reality began to seep in. They couldn't stay like this forever. There were things they needed to talk about, feelings to address. Jungkook knew that. But for now, he allowed himself to savor this moment of peace.
Jimin stirred again, his eyes slowly opening. He blinked a few times, as if trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. When his gaze met Jungkook's, a flicker of recognition passed between them.
"Morning," Jungkook whispered, his voice hoarse.
Jimin nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. "Morning."
They lay there in silence for a while, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. Finally, jungkook broke the silence.
"Last night...," he began, his voice tentative.
Jimin squeezed his hand reassuringly. "We don't have to talk about it now. We can talk later."
Jungkook nodded again, his expression softening. "I know. I just... I needed you to understand."
"I do," jimin replied earnestly. "Just ...,just give me some time."
They stayed like that for a while longer, the world outside fading away as they found solace in each other's presence, in a long while Jungkook felt a sense of peace.
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§∆§
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The sound of clinking dishes and the faint aroma of something warm and delicious greeted Jimin and Jungkook as they stepped out of the bedroom, freshly showered and still adjusting to the awkward reality of the morning after.
They both paused at the living room entrance.
There was Taehyung—his hair still tousled from sleep, sleeves rolled up, standing at the dining table arranging takeout containers and placing plates like he belonged there. Like nothing awkward had happened. Like he hadn't just witnessed a scene straight out of a romance drama.
When he noticed them, he glanced up, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "Morning, lovebirds," he teased, eyes twinkling with restrained amusement.
Jungkook blinked. "Oh god—Taehyung!" He turned to Jimin, mortified. "I forgot he stayed the night."
Jimin's lips curled slightly at Jungkook's embarrassment. "You were too busy being dramatic," he mumbled.
Taehyung waved a spoon at them. "Come on, you two. I ordered food. You'll need it—especially after last night's emotional Olympic event."
As they settled around the table, the warmth of food and familiarity wrapped around them. The clink of utensils and casual munching filled the room for a few quiet minutes. Then, Taehyung looked up, fidgeting slightly.
"Jimin," he said, voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "I'm sorry."
Both Jimin and Jungkook looked at him.
Jimin sighed softly, leaning back. "Tae, I'm not angry with you. I know... it was all Jungkook's fault." He sent a sideways glance at the man beside him.
Jungkook's jaw dropped. "Wait—what?! Hey! That's not fair. The whole undercover plan was Taehyung's idea!" He pointed accusingly.
Jimin turned sharply to glare at him. "Jeon Jungkook."
Immediately, Jungkook's defiance dissolved into silence, and he slumped in his seat with a pout, looking every bit like a scolded rabbit who'd been kicked out of the garden. His cheeks puffed, brows furrowed, and he stabbed at his food in dramatic protest.
Taehyung snorted. Then chuckled. Then broke into uncontrollable laughter. "You should've seen your face ..hahaha." The power Jimin has over jungkook is scary. He's like a Disney villain's sidekick getting scolded.
Jungkook glared. "Shut up, traitor."
Jimin rolled his eyes, but a tiny smile betrayed his amusement.
But then the air shifted slightly as Jimin turned back to Taehyung. His voice softened—still cool, but sincere. "Just because I'm not angry doesn't mean I've forgiven you. I'm disappointed with you Tae. "
Taehyung's laughter faded, guilt replacing humor in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Jimin. Truly. I just... didn't want to drag you into that mess."
No more words followed after that. The three of them finished their breakfast in a silence that wasn't hostile, but reflective. There was still weight between them—unsaid things and fragile feelings—but it was also the beginning of something better.
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§∆§
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The afternoon had settled into a quiet rhythm. Jungkook sat cross-legged on the floor, laptop open and a sea of scattered papers and documents surrounding him. He looked unusually focused, glasses perched on his nose, occasionally scribbling notes with a furrowed brow. Today was his unofficial work-from-home day, and the coffee table had become his command center.
On the couch, Jimin was curled comfortably on one side, sharing a throw blanket with Taehyung as the two watched a light-hearted drama. Their soft laughter echoed through the space every now and then, filling the room with a cozy sense of normalcy.
That was, until the doorbell rang.
The sound echoed sharply, interrupting the laid-back energy in the room. Taehyung paused the drama. Jungkook looked up from his screen. Both turned their heads toward Jimin, eyebrows raised in silent question.
Jimin caught their looks, completely unbothered, and stood with a light stretch. "I called Yoongi hyung, Hoseok hyung, and Yuna to come over," he said casually, walking toward the door. "I think that's them."
Taehyung and Jungkook froze.
"You what?" Jungkook whispered, panic flaring in his eyes.
Taehyung's jaw slackened. "You invited... them?"
Jimin didn't answer. He simply opened the door.
And there they were—Yoongi, Hoseok, and Yuna—smiling brightly and holding a small box of pastries.
"Hey!" Hoseok beamed.
"Hope we're not too early," Yuna added cheerfully.
Jimin stepped aside, offering a polite smile. "You're right on time. Come in."
As they entered, the cheerful expressions on their faces slowly faded into one of dawning horror.
Because there, in the living room, stood Taehyung and Jungkook, wide-eyed and frozen like deer caught in headlights. It was like time had stopped. The silent horror on both sides told a story that needed no dialogue. Jimin is ready to listen there lie.
Yuna gulped.
Yoongi blinked slowly and muttered under his breath, "Well, damn."
Hoseok chuckled nervously. "So… everyone's here."
"Please, sit," Jimin said, turning around and walking calmly to his single-seater. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't scold. But the atmosphere felt colder than any winter storm.
Taehyung plopped beside Yuna and Hoseok on the main sofa, still stunned. Yoongi and Jungkook reluctantly settled into the side chairs. The air was thick with guilt and anticipation.
Jimin crossed one leg over the other, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sharp.
"Anyone want coffee?" he asked smoothly.
"No," came the unanimous, terrified reply.
Jimin nodded slightly. "Good. Saves me the trouble."
Silence.
No one dared speak. Not yet.
Jungkook fidgeted in his seat. Yoongi stared at a spot on the carpet like it held all the answers to life. Yuna and Hoseok exchanged regretful glances, while Taehyung leaned back, defeated.
They all knew what was coming.
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End of chapter