Chapter Text
The alarm went off at 7:00 a.m., just as it did every weekday morning.
Kim Taehyung groaned into the pillow, reaching out blindly until he found his phone and turned off the alarm. For a brief second, he thought of closing his eyes again–five more minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt, right? But then, almost on cue, a small voice came floating down the hallway.
“Appa!! It's morning already!”
A smile tugged at his lips despite his exhaustion. His daughter’s enthusiasm for the day was a mystery he had long stopped trying to solve. Hana always woke up with an overflowing amount of energy for the new day.
Dragging himself out of the bed, he made his way to the bathroom, splashed his face with cold water, and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Dark hair sticking out in every direction, a plain white t-shirt clinging to his frame. He looked tired, but there was a softness in his gaze when he thought of Hana. She was the one thing that made every morning worth it.
By the time he entered the kitchen, Hana was already perched at the dining table, her hair sticking out like a tiny lion’s mane. She kicked her legs against the chair, humming the tune from the movie ‘My Neighbor Totoro.’
“Good morning, Appa,” she greeted, her voice bright.
“Good morning, baby,” Taehyung said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Did you brush your teeth?”
“Yes!” she answered immediately. Then, after a pause, “Well…almost.”
“Hana.” His tone was half stern, half amused.
She giggled, hopping off her chair and scampering to the bathroom to finish the job properly.
Taehyung shook his head, pulling out a pan to fry some eggs. Breakfast was always simple in their home—eggs, toast, milk for Hana, tea for him, sometimes fruit if Hana was in the mood. He wasn't much of a cook, though he tried. The thing was, Hana never complained. She would eat whatever he made, always with the same cheerful expression, as if he had served her a feast.
When she came back, her hair was damp at the ends and her toothpaste left a little foam at the corner of her mouth,Taehyung wiped it away, and a smile tugged at his lips.
“Sit down,” he told her, setting a plate in front of her.
They ate together, Hana chattering about her upcoming day at school— how her teacher asked her to read in front of the whole class, how her friend Minji had bought a new pencil case shaped like a bear, how she is going to draw a picture for him in art class. Taehyung listened, nodding and humming, responding, his chest warm with affection.
It was always like this. Their mornings were chaotic but precious, filled with little rituals only they shared.
By 8:30 a.m., Taehyung had packed Hana’s lunchbox and checked her school bag twice. She twirled in front of him, showing off her neatly styled ponytail and her black backpack.
“Ready!” she chirped, slipping her small hand into his larger one.
💜🩷💚
The drive to the school was moderate, thirty minutes through the city streets. Hana sang along to the radio, slightly off–key but endearing. Taehyung kept glancing at her, memorizing the sight. He often thought about how fast she was growing up. Every day, she looked a little taller, a little older.
When they reached the school gate, Hana leaned over the seat and kissed his cheek.
“Bye, Appa! Don't work too much, okay?”
“I'll try, baby,” Taehyung said, ruffling her hair. “Be good.”
She waved as she ran off, her backpack bouncing behind her. Taehyung waited until she disappeared into the building before driving away, the emptiness of the car suddenly palpable.
💜🩷💚
Work at the software firm was routine, as always. Taehyung buried himself in codes, reports, and occasional tea breaks. His colleagues were kind but distant, more acquaintances than friends. He didn't mind. He had gotten used to keeping his personal life separate.
At lunch, while others gathered in the cafeteria, Taehyung sat at his desk and scrolled through the pictures Hana’s teacher had uploaded of the morning activity. Hana grinning with paint on her nose, holding up a bunny cutout. His heart swelled. She was his world.
Sometimes, though, when he looked around at the empty chairs across from him in the cafeteria or when he came home to a quiet apartment after dropping Hana at a playdate with his Namjoon and Jin hyung, he wondered if maybe his world was too small.
But then he thought of his past—the way his partner had walked out the moment things became difficult, how she fell out of love, how Taehyung had been left alone holding Hana in his arms, terrified and alone. No. Small was safe. Small was enough.
💜🩷💚
By evening, he picked Hana up from school, listening as she told her entire day with a dramatic flair. Back home, they cooked dinner together—or rather, Hana stirred the soup pot with all seriousness while Taehyung did the real cooking. Afterwards, they sat on the couch with their bowls of strawberries, watching My Neighbor Totoro for the hundredth time.
Hana leaned against him, her small frame warm and soft. “Appa?”
“Hmm, baby?”
“When I grow up, will it still be just the two of us?”
The question caught him off guard. He looked down at her, her big eyes wide with innocent curiosity.
“Yes,” he said after a pause, tightening his arm around her. “Always us two. And of course, Joon samchon and Jin samchon. Don't forget about them—you know how Jin samchon is. He can be scary.”
She smiled, bright and hearty, and turned her attention back to the screen. Taehyung, however, felt a pang in his chest.
Because sometimes–just sometimes–he wished it didn't have to be only the two of them.
💜🩷💚
That night, after Hana had fallen asleep in her little bed surrounded by her favourite Jellycat Bunnies, Taehyung stepped out onto the balcony with a cup of tea. The city stretched out below, lights twinkling, cars honking faintly in the distance. He leaned against the railing, letting the cool breeze wash over him.
His life was quiet, simple, predictable. Safe.
But safe can be lonely sometimes.
He sighed, sipping his tea. And that was when he heard it– the faint sound of furniture being moved from the apartment next door. A low voice, humming a tune under its breath, followed by the scrape of a box across the floor.
Taehyung leaned at the balcony beside his. It had been empty for months, ever since the last owners moved out. But tonight, a tall figure was stepping outside, stretching his arms after what looked like hours of unpacking. Even from the corner of his eyes, Taehyung could tell—he was young, broad-shouldered, and strangely at ease in his movements.
The man noticed him, startled for a second before offering a small, polite smile.
Taehyung blinked, lifting his cup slightly in response.
The stranger’s smile widened, and he gave a little wave before retreating back inside.
Taehyung stood frozen for a moment, heart oddly unsteady. Then he shook his head, finishing his tea quickly before heading inside.
It was nothing. Just a new neighbour.
Just a stranger.
What he had no idea about was how much that stranger was going to change everything.
Chapter Text
Jeon Jungkook didn't believe in fate.
He believed in hard work, timing, and a little bit of luck–but never fate. At least, not until that night he moved into his new apartment.
It had been a long day at court, one of those cases that drained every ounce of energy from him. By the time the verdict was announced in favor of his client, Jungkook felt both triumphant and exhausted. The case had been grueling, but the win was satisfying. His opponent, a senior lawyer twice his age, had underestimated him. That made the victory even sweeter.
Still, when he finally drove into his new neighbourhood, all he wanted was food, a shower, and maybe lots of sleep. Instead, he was greeted by two familiar figures lounging against his front door as if they owned that place.
“About time,” Yoongi said lazily, crossing his arms.
Jimin gave a little wave. “Hii, Kook-ah. Did the judge keep you hostage again?”
Jungkook rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the fond smile tugging at his lips. “Nice to see you too Yoongi hyung and Jimin-ie. Now are you here to help me move or just to complain?”
Yoongi smirked. “Complain. Obviously.”
“Yah,” Jungkook shoved him lightly. “At least pretend to be supportive.”
Jimin slipped an arm around Yoongi’s shoulder, grinning. “Don't worry, Kook, we’ll help. Yoongi hyung just doesn't want to admit he's lazy.”
“Excuse me?” Yoongi scoffed. “I'm not weak. I'm efficient. Efficiency means not lifting unnecessary boxes.”
“Which means you'll leave me to do all the heavy lifting?” Jungkook asked flatly.
Yoongi shrugged. “Exactly.”
Jungkook groaned, dragging a hand down his face. This was going to be a long evening.
💜🩷💚
By the time the three of them had dragged most of the boxes upstairs, Jungkook was sweating through his tshirt. Jimin, ever the dramatic one, collapsed onto the couch the moment it was set down, fanning himself with the newspaper he'd found.
“Why do you have so much stuff?” Jimin whined.
“It's called being an adult,” Jungkook replied, carrying another box in.
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Jimin said, mocking him. “It's called buying unnecessary stuff.”
Meanwhile, Yoongi was carefully setting up Jungkook’s speaker system as if it were a sacred ritual. "At least your taste in music hasn't gone to trash,” he muttered, flipping through the vinyls.
Jungkook grinned. “Thanks, hyung. Coming from you, that's high praise.”
They bantered like that for hours–Yoongi making sarcastic comments, Jimin dancing around, Jungkook pretending to be annoyed but secretly grateful. He hadn't realised how much he needed the company until now. Moving into a new place alone could have felt cold, but with them, it was warm.
By the time the last box was shoved against the wall, it was well past midnight. Yoongi stretched, groaning.
“Alright. I've done my good deed for the year. I'm going home, I need my beauty sleep.”
“Hyung it's just 12 a.m. and it's off tomorrow,” Jimin pointed out.
“Yes, exactly. It's 12 a.m.” Yoongi deadpanned, pulling his boyfriend along.
Jungkook laughed, walking them to the door. “Thanks for the help guys. Seriously. I owe you one.”
“It was nothing Kook-ah. See you later,” Jimin teased, giving him a quick hug before they head home.
When the apartment finally quieted down, Jungkook leaned against the door, letting out a long breath. He should've been tired, but instead, he felt oddly restless.
On a whim, he stepped out onto the balcony, the night air cool against his skin. He stretched his arms, looking out at the glittering city lights. This was why he bought this apartment–the view, the sense of openness despite being in the middle of the city.
He wasn't expecting to see anyone else out at that hour.
But there, on the balcony next to his, stood a man. Tall, broad-shouldered, with hair that fell softly into his eyes. He held a mug in his hand, steam curling into the night. His profile was sharp, straight nose, soft lips, an elegance that was impossible to miss.
The man noticed him and turned slightly, surprise flickering in his gaze before he gave a small nod. Jungkook returned the gesture with a polite smile. For a second, their eyes met–something unspoken hung in the air. The short moment was broken by the notification sound from Jungkook’s phone. He went inside, leaving the man on the balcony.
Strange, Jungkook thought, the image of the man lingering in his mind. He was just a neighbour.
💜🩷💚
The next day was a blur of unpacking and errands. Jungkook spent the morning setting up his home office, arranging files and law books in neat stacks. He liked order, liked knowing exactly where everything was. In court, paying attention to small details mattered. Being organised could decide who won or lost.
By the evening, though, his apartment still looked like a storm had passed through. Boxes half–unpacked, clothes piled on chairs. With a sigh, Jungkook decided to at least move the smaller things into place.
He was carrying a stack of books inside when he heard the patter of small footsteps.
When he came back again, he saw a little girl skipping down the corridor, her backpack bouncing against her shoulders. Her braids were slightly messy, her cheeks flushed from playing. She stopped when she noticed him, tilting her head curiously.
“Hi!” she said brightly, her voice cheerful and unafraid.
Jungkook blinked, caught off guard by her enthusiasm. “Uh–hi.”
“You’re new,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I am,” Jungkook admitted, smiling a little. “Just moved in yesterday.”
She nodded as if this explained everything. Then, without hesitation, she asked, “do you like chocolate chip cookies?”
Jungkook chuckled. “Who doesn't, sweetheart?”
The girl grinned. “Good. Then we can be friends.”
He laughed outright at that. “Thats how you decide your friends?”
She nodded seriously. “Cookies, cartoons, and I see if they are nice or not. You seem like a nice guy.”
“Why, thank you for that, sweetheart. I think we'll get along then,” he said, crouching slightly to her level. “I'm Jungkook. What's your name?”
“Hana,” she replied proudly. “I’m seven.”
“Seven? Wow.” He widened his eyes playfully. “That's practically grown-up.”
She giggled, covering her mouth with her hands. “Nooo, appa says I still have to listen to him.”
Jungkook smiled at the mention of her father. Something warm settled in his chest at how easily she spoke, how chirpy and full of life she seemed. Kids usually take time to open up, but Hana seemed to have decided he was safe in an instant.
They talked for several minutes–about her favourite cartoons, her school, how she loved running in the park downstairs, how her Jin samchon lets her play with PlayStation 5. She asked him if he liked superheroes, and when he said yes and that Ironman was his favourite, her eyes lit up as she launched into an explanation how he's her favourite too.
And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement.
A man approached from the far end of the hallway, carrying a grocery bag in one hand. Jungkook recognised him immediately–the neighbour from the balcony. Only this time, he wasn't just a silhouette in the night.
Up close, he was breathtaking.
His features were soft yet striking–warm brown eyes, full lips, skin glowing under the evening glow. There was a quiet grace in the way he moved, the grocery bag hanging casually at his side, his other hand reaching out instinctively as Hana ran to him.
“Appa!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his waist.
Jungkook froze. Appa?
The man–he saw last night, Hana called him–he looked down at her with a gentle smile before raising his gaze. Their eyes met, and for the second time since yesterday, Jungkook felt something inside him shift.
Beautiful didn't even begin to cover it. Ethereal, maybe. Like someone had plucked him out of a fairytale and placed him in this mundane hallway.
“Ah,” Hana said, tugging her father’s hand. “Appa, this is Jungkook. He's new. He's a nice person.
Taehyung’s lips twitched, the faint trace of amusement in his eyes. “Is he now?”
Jungkook scrambled to find his voice. “Uh–yes. Hello. I'm Jeon Jungkook. I just moved in yesterday. I'm your neighbour.”
Taehyung gave a polite bow, his expression unreadable. “Welcome Jungkook-shi. I'm Kim Taehyung.”
It was simple, courteous. Yet Jungkook’s chest felt tight, his pulse quickening for some reason. He'd met countless people before, charmed juries and outsmarted opponents. But one look at Kim Taehyung, and Jungkook was gone.
Because Kim Taehyung was beautiful. Ethereal. And Jungkook had a feeling that his life had just shifted in a way he wasn't prepared for.
Chapter Text
Jungkook had never thought that coming home to the sound of a seven-year old’s laughter could make his day better. But lately, it did. Every single time.
Hana was sunshine wrapped in chaos–tiny, talkative, and endlessly curious. She had a way of bringing the quiet hallways between their apartments.
And somehow, Jungkook had become her favourite person to talk to.
It started with small encounters: a quick hello when they met in the corridor, a minute-long conversation about her favourite ghibli movie, a shy gift of a handmade card that said “good neighbour.” But soon, she was knocking on his door to show him her drawings, or telling him about her day before Taehyung came home from work.
He didn't mind. In fact, he looked forward to it.
Hana had given him the nickname “Kookie” about a week after they met. She walked right up to him one evening, hands on her hips, and announced it as if declaring a law.
“Kookie sounds nice! Can I call you that?”
Jungkook laughed, surprised. “Of course you can, sweetheart.”
She grinned. “Then it's decided!”
When Taehyung overheard the new name later, he looked mildly horrified. “Hana, baby, that's not polite–”
“It's okay, Taehyung-shi.” Jungkook interrupted with a chuckle. “I like it. It's cute.”
Taehyung’s lip twitched, the faintest smile breaking through. “You say that now. Wait until she calls you that in front of people.”
Hana teased her Appa, and Jungkook laughed even harder.
That was the thing about the father–daughter duo— they brought life into their quiet floor. Hana with her chatter, and Taehyung with his calm, grounding presence.
As he and Hana grew closer and more talkative, Taehyung, on the other hand, would sometimes smile back–small, shy, as if he wasn't used to people being so open. Other times, he'd simply nod, retreating behind his quiet politeness.
Jungkook learned not to push it. Still, something about Taehyung’s distance made him curious. He was gentle, sure, but also closed off–like a door kept carefully locked.
He wanted to be the person Taehyung can trust enough.
💜🩷💚
It was a Thursday morning when things went slightly off schedule.
Jungkook had the day off—a rare one. No hearings, no clients, no paperwork, he’d planned on doing nothing productive: maybe some gaming, a nap, and takeouts later.
But fate apparently had different plans.
At around 8:15 a.m., a loud commotion outside his door jolted him awake.
“Appa, I can’t find my water bottle!”
“You left it on the counter–no, not that one, the black one!”
Jungkook rubbed his eyes, grinning as he recognized the voices. The Kims. Curious, he stepped into the hallway and nearly laughed at the sight before him.
Taehyung stood outside their apartment, trying to fix Hana’s jacket with one hand while holding his phone between his shoulder and ear, mumbling something about a meeting. His tie was half-done, hair slightly messy from rushing, and Hana was spinning in circles around him.
“Good morning,” Jungkook greeted, biting back a smile.
Taehyung turned, startled. “oh–Jungkook-shi. Hi.” His voice was polite but tired. “Sorry, we're being loud.”
“You’re fine,” Jungkook said lightly. “Looks like a rough morning.”
“That's an understatement,” Taehyung muttered, finally ending his call. “Hana, shoes on, please.”
“I’m trying, Appa” she huffed, struggling with her shoelaces.
Jungkook crouched down without thinking. “Here, I got it.”
She blinked at him and smiled. “Thanks, Kookie!”
“You’re welcome, baby,” he said, tying the laces neatly. Then he looked up at Taehyung. “You okay?” you look like you're about to sprint to work.”
Taehyung exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair. “I’m late. My meeting is in thirty five minutes, and traffic is already bad.”
“I can walk myself to school!” Hana offered, puffing out her chest proudly.
Taehyung frowned. “Absolutely not.”
Jungkook laughed under his breath. “I actually have an off today,” he said casually. “If it helps, I can drop her off. It would be easy for you.”
Taehyung blinked, caught off guard. “Oh—no, I can't ask you to do that–”
“You’re not asking, Taehyung-shi,” Jungkook said with a reassuring smile. “I’m offering. I don't mind. Really.”
Taehyung hesitated for a moment, a small sense of protectiveness flaring in his chest. His eyes flicking to Hana, who was already looking up at him with pleading eyes.
“Appa, please? I'll be good! Promise!”
Taehyung sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “You trust everyone too easily,” he murmured, though there was no bite to his words.
Then he looked at Jungkook again–carefully, quietly. “Are you really sure?”
“Positive,” Jungkook said, voice warm. “Don't worry, Taehyung-shi. I'll drop her off safely.”
Something about the way he said it–gentle, steady, without hesitation–made Taehyung pause. Then he nodded, finally giving in.
“Okay,” he said softly. “Thank you Jungkook-shi.”
💜🩷💚
5 minutes later, Hana was seated in the passenger seat of Jungkook's car, humming to herself. Jungkook had insisted she pick the music, and now his car was filled with cheerful studio ghibli soundtracks.
“Kookie, do you know how to make brownies?” she asked suddenly, turning to him with all the seriousness in the world.
“Uh, yeah, sweetheart. Why? Do you like them?”
“Good!” she said, satisfied. “Because me and Appa both like brownies, but Appa can't make them properly at home. Maybe you can make them for us.”
Jungkook smiled. “Oh? Do you really want me to?”
“Yes!” she nodded eagerly. “But you don't tell Appa I asked you to, or hell say I’m troubling you. Ok?”
Jungkook laughed as he drove. “Sure, baby.”
She giggled. “Deal!”
A few minutes into the drive, she pointed at the things outside–her favourite ice cream shop, the bookstore where the father-daughter duo sometimes bought books, and the big park nearby. Jungkook listened, smiling the whole way.
“Your Appa sounds cool,” he said at one point.
“He is!” Hana said proudly. “He is the best Appa, but he works a lot. And sometimes he looks a little sad too. But he’s still the best!”
Jungkook’s smile softened. “He must be really proud of you, sweetheart.”
She nodded. “He says I’m his heart.”
Something tugged quietly in Jungkook’s chest.
💜🩷💚
When they reached school, Hana unbuckled her seatbelt and jumped out. She asked Jungkook to crouch down a little, when he did, she pecked his cheek lightly and waved at him.
“Bye, Kookie! Don't forget our deal.”
“I won't," he promised with a grin. “Bye, sweetheart. Have a nice day, be good.”
She laughed and ran towards the school gate, her braids bouncing. Jungkook watched her until she disappeared inside, the smile still intact on his face.
There was something comforting about her energy–something he hadn't realised he missed until now. Just like her father, Taehyung, who filled up the spaces with his calm and gentle demeanour.
💜🩷💚
When Jungkook returned, the hallway between their apartments was silent. Taehyung’s door was locked–he had already left for work.
Jungkook leaned against the wall, debating for a second, then smiled to himself. He grabbed a notepad from his counter, scribbled a quick message, and stuck it neatly on Taehyung’s door before heading back inside.
Dropped Hana off safely :)
She said her Appa is the best — and I agree.
— Jungkook
That evening, Jungkook was halfway through a takeout dinner when someone knocked on his door.
When he opened it, Taehyung stood there in cozy comfy clothes. An oversized tshirt and flannel bottoms. He looked tired but lighter somehow.
“Hello,” he said quietly. “Thank you for this morning. Really.”
Jungkook smiled, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Anytime. She's a great company.”
Taehyung’s lips quirked. “She hasn't stopped talking about you.”
Jungkook looked at him with awe. “Really! I feel honoured.”
Taehyung laughed softly, and the sound hit Jungkook somewhere deep in his chest. It wasn't loud or showy–it was real. Gentle. Like something he didn't let out often.
He hesitated before speaking again. “I got your note. Thank you for that too.”
“I figured you might worry otherwise.” Jungkook simply replied.
“Can I ask you something?” Jungkook asked hesitantly. “Please call me Jungkook. Drop the formalities.”
Taehyung was taken aback by the request, but smiled nonetheless.
“Then you have to call me hyung.”
For a moment, their eyes met–steady, unguarded. And for the first time, Taehyung didn't look away immediately.
He smiled a little. “You’re a good person, Jungkook.”
Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck feeling oddly flustered.
“Goodnight, Jungkook.” Taehyung said quietly.
“Goodnight, hyung.” he said, voice soft.
When Taehyung disappeared into his apartment, Jungkook lingered in the hallway a little longer, staring at the closed door smiling to himself.
Maybe fate wasn't such a ridiculous idea after all.
Chapter Text
The scent of chocolate filled the entire apartment.
Jungkook leaned against the kitchen counter, tapping a wooden spoon against the bowl as the brownies baked. The timer ticked softly in the background, the faint tune of his playlist humming through the speakers.
“I hope they like these brownies,” he muttered with a small grin, remembering how easily Hana had asked him to make them.
He could still hear her voice from two days ago-–the way she turned to him in the car and asked so adorably.
"But you can't tell Appa or he'll say I'm troubling you. Okay?"
He laughed. "Sure, baby."
And now, here he was, following orders of his favourite seven year old, ma'am.
There was something endearing about it—how Hana cared enough to think about her father’s favourite things, and how Taehyung, in his quiet way, seemed to make the world revolve around her.
Jungkook admired that.
He admired him.
He wouldn't admit it out loud–not yet, but there was something about Kim Taehyung that drew him in.
It wasn't just the beauty, though God knew that was impossible to ignore. It was the quiet strength. The patience in the way he spoke to Hana. The tired smiles that somehow felt warm. The subtle humor that surfaced when he let his guard down.
Taehyung was steady, self-contained, the kind of man who didn't need to say much to make people feel safe around him.
And maybe that was why Jungkook found himself thinking about him far too often lately.
The timer beeped, jolting him out of his thoughts. He slipped on an oven mitt, pulled out the tray, and smiled at the rich, dark surface of the perfectly baked brownies.
“Success,” he murmured. “I hope you love these, hyung.”
He cooled them for a while, then arranged them neatly, covering them with foil before heading next door.
💜🩷💚
When Taehyung’s door opened, it wasn't him who answered–it was Hana, wide-eyed and instantly glowing.
“Kookie!” she squealed. “You made them!”
Jungkook grinned, lowering his voice playfully. "Of course I had to. Can't disobey your orders ma’am.”
“Come in!” she said, tugging his hand. “Appa doesn't know yet.”
He followed her into the apartment, chuckling under his breath. The air smelled faintly of laundry and home-cooked food–comfortable and lived-in, just like he'd imagined.
The living room lights were dim, the glow of the TV flickering softly. And there, sitting on the couch with a cup of tea and glasses sitting on his nose, was Kim Taehyung.
He looked up, slightly surprised. “Jungkook?”
Jungkook suddenly forgot how to speak.
Taehyung was dressed casually–loose sweats, a soft beige hoodie–his hair slightly tousled. The faint reflection of the TV screen danced on his face, highlighting his features and the softness of his eyes.
“Oh, hi, hyung,” Jungkook said quickly, lifting the plate. “I, uh…brought brownies. Hana said you like them.”
“She what–?” Taehyung turned to look at his daughter, who was trying–and failing–to hide her grin.
“Surprise!” she giggled, already running to get plates.
Taehyung sighed but couldn't help smiling. “You’re too good to her,” he said quietly, looking back at Jungkook.
“I like her,” Jungkook said simply, setting the plate on the table. “And I like brownies too, so it's a win-win.”
Taehyung’s lips curved faintly. “Fair enough. Stay for a bit?”
“Only if I'm not intruding.”
“You’re not,” Taehyung said, voice softer this time. “We're just watching Jujutsu Kaisen.”
Jungkook blinked. “Wait– you watch anime?”
Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “Why? Surprised?”
“Extremely,” Jungkook said laughing as he dropped on the floor next to Hana. “I didn’t take you for an anime fan, hyung.”
“I’m a man of taste,” Taehyung said dryly, sipping his tea.
Hana giggled. “Kookie, you should see how Appa and Hobi, Jin, and Joonie Samchons discuss every episode. It's so funny.”
Taehyung shook his head, amused. “Don’t listen to her.”
But Jungkook couldn't stop smiling. The image of Taehyung avidly discussing anime episodes was unexpectedly endearing.
He reached for a brownie, and offered it to Hana. “Taste test?”
She took a bite and her eyes widened dramatically. “Kookie, this is soo good!”
Taehyung leaned over, accepting a piece from her hand with a quiet thanks. He tasted it– and Jungkook, without meaning to, watched him.
The small hum of approval Taehyung made, the way his lips curved after– it was unfairly beautiful.
“Perfect,” Taehyung said, looking at him. “You bake too?”
“Among other things,” Jungkook replied, smiling. “But this is my first time baking fudgy brownies.”
“Well, you've set the bar high,” Taehyung said softly.
Something in Jungkook’s chest fluttered.
💜🩷💚
It was becoming a dangerous habit–how easily Jungkook could make his home feel warmer.
Taehyung tried not to notice it, but it was impossible. The younger man filled the space like sunlight. His laughter, his bright energy, the way he matched Hana’s pace so effortlessly—it all felt too natural.
Too easy.
Taehyung had worked hard to build boundaries around his little world—of routine, of predictability. After everything that happened with his last partner, he couldn't afford to blur the lines again.
And yet, here Jungkook was, sitting on the floor with Hana, both of them watching Jujutsu Kaisen like they'd done it a hundred times before.
Hana leaned against Jungkook’s arm, halfway through the episode. Jungkook had absentmindedly adjusted the blanket around her without saying anything—a small, gentle act that Taehyung noticed far too deeply.
He should've been uncomfortable. Instead, he felt…something else.
His heart softened and clenched all at once.
Jungkook looked so at ease in his home, like he belonged there—laughing with Hana, teasing her, his bunny smile flashing. Taehyung couldn't remember the last time his apartment had felt this alive.
But that's what scared him.
Because the moment someone starts to feel like home, it means you have something to lose again.
He'd lost enough once before–the partner who left, the long nights of quiet crying after Hana fell asleep, the loneliness he learned to hide behind polite smiles.
He couldn't go through that again.
But as he looked at Jungkook–now leaning back against the couch, eyes crinkled as Hana whispered something in his ear–Taehyung felt that old promise slipping through his fingers.
There was something magnetic about him. Kind, steady, warm. Jungkook didn't try too hard–he just was all these things.
💜🩷💚
Hana was fast asleep by the time the episode ended. Her small hand still clutched the hem of his sleeve.
“She’s out,” Jungkook said quietly, smiling.
Taehyung nodded, reaching over to adjust her blanket again. “She always falls asleep midway.”
“She’s adorable,” Jungkook murmured.
Taehyung’s smile faltered slightly–not out of disagreement, but something like wistfulness. “Yeah. She is my world.”
“I can tell,” Jungkook said gently. “You’re doing great, you know.”
Taehyung looked up. “What makes you say that?”
“Because she's happy,” Jungkook said. “Kids that happy don't just happen by chance. And it reflects how you love her, hyung.”
For a second, Taehyung didn't respond. Then he smiled—small, real. “Thank you.”
“You don't hear that enough, do you?”
Taehyung gave a quiet laugh. “Not really.”
Jungkook’s chest warmed. “Well, you should. You deserve it.”
Their eyes met then, and it felt like the air shifted between them.
Taehyung looked away first, clearing his throat. “You should take some brownies home before Hana eats them all tomorrow.”
Jungkook chuckled, breaking the tension. “They’re yours.”
He stood up, stretching a little. “Thanks for letting me crash your anime night.”
“It was nothing.” Taehyung said.
As Jungkook picked up his plate, Hana stirred slightly, mumbling, “bye, Kookie...” before sinking back to sleep.
He smiled softly. “Bye, sweetheart.”
When he reached the door, Taehyung followed him out quietly. “You’re good with her,” he said, voice low.
Jungkook turned, their eyes meeting again, “she makes it easy.” Then, after a pause, “you make it easy, too.”
Taehyung blinked, startled. “I—”
“Goodnight, hyung,” Jungkook said gently, saving him from replying.
Taehyung nodded, voice soft. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”
💜🩷💚
After Jungkook left, the silence in the apartment felt heavier than usual. Not cold—just different.
Hana now safely tucked in her bed, mumbled something in her sleep, and Taehyung smiled faintly, brushing a hand over her hair before switching off the lights.
He walked to the kitchen, washing the few plates that remained. The smell of chocolate lingered–sweet and familiar.
When he leaned against the counter, towel in hand, his gaze drifted to the couch where Jungkook had sat an hour ago.
And for the first time in a long while, Taehyung found himself thinking about someone else's presence.
The sudden thought made him flinch.
Because that was how it started—every heartbreak, every disappointment. With wanting.
Chapter Text
It started with a phone call–one that made his stomach twist tighter than it should have.
Taehyung had just finished breakfast when his phone buzzed. Jungkook’s name flashed on the screen, and even before he answered, Hana was already running over, eyes bright.
“Kookie is calling!” she said, beaming. “Maybe he's coming early for our playdate!”
Taehyung smiled, ruffling her hair before picking up. “Hey, Jungkook. What's up?”
“Hey, hyung.” Jungkook’s voice was softer than usual–scratchy, faint, tired. “I, uh…I think I need to cancel my playdate with Hana. I caught a fever, I think so. I don't want Hana to get sick.”
The light in Hana’s eyes dimmed immediately when she heard the word cancel.
Taehyung frowned, heart dropping at the rasp in Jungkook’s tone. “You don't sound fine.”
“I’ll be okay,” Jungkook said, though his voice betrayed him halfway through the sentence with a cough. “Just need to sleep it off.”
Taehyung hesitated, torn between respecting his space and the sudden unexplainable urge to make sure he was alright. “Do you need anything? Medicine? Soup?”
“No, no, really,” Jungkook said, chuckling weakly. “I’ve got everything. Just rest and fluids, and I'll be good. Hana must be bummed though.”
“Jungkook,” Taehyung said quietly. “I’ll take care of her. You tell me, how high is your fever?”
There was a pause on the other side. Then a sheepish, “um. I didn't check.”
Taehyung sighed, rubbing his temples. “Of course you didn't."
“I'll be fine, hyung. Don't worry–”
But Taehyung was already making up his mind.
Hana was disappointed and she was worried too. She sat on the couch with her sketchbook sighing loudly every two minutes. “Appa, kookie is sick.”
“He’s human too, baby,” Taehyung said gently, kneeling beside her. “Everyone gets sick sometimes.”
The pout was so evident on her face it melted Taehyung (ofcourse)
Taehyung smiles, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “How about you spend the day with Joon and Jin samchon instead? They're going to the aquarium today?”
Her pout faltered. “The one with the sharks?”
“The same one,” Taehyung said, tapping her nose. “And maybe they'll get you ice cream on the way back.”
Hana’s eyes lit up again. “Promise?”
“Promise,” he said, kissing her forehead.
Minutes later, Namjoon and Jin arrived–cheerful as ever, Hana running into their arms with excitement. Taehyung handed them her little backpack and murmured, “Keep her out till evening if you can. She's a bit upset about Jungkook.”
Jin smiled knowingly. “You’re going to check on him, aren't you?”
Taehyung blinked. “How do you—”
“You've got your ‘I'm not worried but I'm totally worried’ face,” Namjoon said dryly, patting his shoulder. “Go. We've got Hana covered.”
💜🩷💚
Jungkook groaned, dragging himself out of bed long enough to grab another box of tissue. His head throbbed, throat dry, and every attempt at sleep ended with him tossing miserably in tangled sheets.
The fever must have hit hard. His skin altered between burning and freezing, and his body ached badly.
He was debating whether to crawl under the blanket or text Yoongi for help when there was a knock at the door.
“Who…?”
The knock came again—firmer this time.
Grumbling, he wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and made his way to the door, opening it just enough to peek out.
And he froze.
Taehyung stood there, holding a small grocery bag in one hand and an insulated bottle in the other. His hair slightly tousled, his expression soft but firm.
“Hyung?” Jungkook rasped, startled. “What are you–”
“You sound worse than you did this morning,” Taehyung interrupted, stepping past him without waiting for permission. “Where’s your thermometer?”
“I–uh–it doesn't have batteries.”
Taehyung exhaled sharply. “Of course!”
Before he could argue, Taehyung was already unpacking–medicine, soup, and a digital thermometer. The entire scene felt deeply endearing to him.
“Hyung, seriously,” Jungkook said, leaning against the counter. “You didn't have to–”
“I know, but I wanted to,” Taehyung said simply. “You take care of everyone, you take such great care of Hana. Let someone return the favour once in a while.”
Jungkook’s throat felt tighter than before, and not just from the cold.
He watched silently as Taehyung moved around his kitchen like he'd done it a hundred times–finding bowls, pouring soup, checking the water temperature for the towel. There was an easy competence to him, like caring was something he knew by instinct, even if he tried to pretend otherwise.
When Taehyung finally turned back with a bowl of soup, his expression softened. “Come on. Sit.”
Jungkook obeyed, too tired to protest—or maybe too affected to.
The soup was warm, the kind of warmth that traveled through more than just his body. Taehyung’s presence filled the space in a quiet, steady way. He fussed over him gently, checking his temperature (which turned out to be higher than he'd admitted), tucking the blanket around his shoulder, muttering soft scoldings under his breath.
“Don’t tell me you were planning to work,” Taehyung said, eyeing the case files.
“Maybe,” Jungkook croaked, smiling weakly.
Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Unbelievable.”
“You’re really here, huh?” Jungkook said after a pause, voice low.
Taehyung looked at him, confused. “Yes.”
“I didn't think you would be,” Jungkook admitted quietly. “You’ve got Hana, work…a whole life.”
Something flickered in Taehyung’s eyes—a mix of surprise and softness. “And you've become a part of it now, aren't you?”
Jungkook’s heart did a thing .
Taehyung seemed to realise what he'd said and cleared his throat quickly, turning away. “I mean—Hana would've worried if I didn't check on you.”
“Right,” Jungkook said, smiling a little. “Hana.”
Jungkook’s heart was racing. The way his gaze lingered on Taehyung’s profile–the slope of his nose, the pretty moles that adorned his beautiful face, the crease of concern between the brows, the way his voice softened every time he spoke.
His heart was racing and he's pretty sure fever wasn't the only reason.
💜🩷💚
Jungkook had fallen asleep. Head tilted slightly towards the window, the blanket wrapped around him like a cocoon. His breathing was even now, a faint pink flush on his cheeks.
Taehyung sat on the armchair beside the bed, watching him for a moment longer than he should have.
He told himself he'd only stay until Jungkook’s fever dropped. That he'd leave once he was sure he was resting properly.
But sitting there—listening to the quiet rhythm of Jungkook’s breathing, surrounded by the faint scent of Jungkook’s cologne—Taehyung felt something loosen inside him.
Maybe it was the relief that Jungkook was alright. Or maybe the ache of realizing how much he cared.
He brushed the damp towel against Jungkook’s forehead again, just to be sure. Jungkook stirred faintly but did not wake.
Taehyung leaned back, exhaling softly. He hadn't planned this—hadn’t planned for Jungkook to become this important. It all happened very quietly.
At first, it was Hana. Then it was the laughter. The way Jungkook made every day feel brighter without even trying.
And now here he was—taking care of the man who made him want to risk opening his heart again.
Taehyung’s gaze lingered on Jungkook’s sleeping face. He looked younger like this–ungaurded, soft, beautiful.
He shouldn't feel this much. He shouldn't want this much.
When Jungkook shifted slightly, mumbling something incoherent, Taehyung smiled faintly and whispered, “sleep well, Kook.”
Chapter Text
The first thing Jungkook did after recovering was to text Taehyung.
Thank you, hyung. For everything.
I owe you dinner. No arguments.
Taehyung had replied with a simple “you don't owe me anything, Jungkook.”
But Jungkook meant it.
He remembered the feel of Taehyung’s cool hand pressing a damp towel to his forehead, the quiet scolding of not keeping spare batteries, the soft voice telling him to sleep. It had been years since anyone had taken care of him like that.
So, when the weekend came, Jungkook found himself in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, preparing a dish he considered his speciality—Makguksu, cold buckwheat noodles tossed with spicy sauce (though in this case, a much milder version, since both father and daughter can’t handle spice well) and vegetables.
He hummed along the soft music playing in the background, tasting the sauce, adjusting the balance of spice and sweetness until it was just right.
Tonight, he wanted it to feel special–not fancy, just warm. Just them.
When the doorbell rang, Jungkook wiped his hands on a towel and opened the door to find Hana standing there with a wide grin and Taehyung right behind her, holding a small basket of fruit.
“Delivery for Kookie!” Hana announced, running up to Jungkook and hugging him.
Jungkook laughed. “Well, hello to you too, sweetheart. You're right on time.”
She skipped inside immediately, nose twitching as she took in the smell of food. “It smells so good, Kookie!”
Taehyung smiled softly, setting the basket on the counter. “You didn't have to go through so much trouble.”
Jungkook shrugged. “I wanted to. Besides you were such a blessing last week–this is the least I can do.”
Taehyung’s lips quirked. “That’s debatable. I just nagged you into drinking soup.”
Jungkook countered lightly. “Well… that counts for something.”
Taehyung chuckled–that soft, rich sound Jungkook was quickly growing addicted to.
They sat down together, the three of them at Jungkook’s dining table, the evening light spilling through the windows.
💜🩷💚
Taehyung hadn't expected to feel this comfortable here.
The dinner smelled amazing–the perfect mix of spice and freshness—and Jungkook’s apartment was warm, filled with the little signs of care. Fresh flowers on the table, fairy lights twinkling near the balcony, music playing low in the background.
Hana, of course, had the brightest smile on her face.
“This is sooo good, Kookie!” she said between bites, slurping noodles with the seriousness of a food critic. “Appa, taste this! It's even better than yours!”
Taehyung froze mid-bite. “Excuse me?”
Jungkook nearly choked trying not to laugh. “Oh, no, Hana, baby, don't say that–”
“But it is!” she insisted earnestly, spoon clattering against her bowl.
“Hana,” Taehyung said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as Jungkook’s suppressed laughter broke into quiet chuckles.
“She’s brutally honest,” Jungkook said, covering his mouth. “I like that.”
“Don’t encourage her,” Taehyung warned, though his smile gave him away.
Hana giggled. “Kookie’s cooking is the best!”
“Well,” Taehyung sighed dramatically, "I suppose I've been dethroned.”
“Don’t worry, Hyung," Jungkook said, his tone teasing but his gaze warm. “I’ll share the crown.”
Their eyes met across the table–a brief moment filled with warmth and unspoken fondness.
Taehyung looked away first, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, reaching for his glass.
Jungkook simply smiled to himself.
💜🩷💚
Dinner drifted into easy conversation. Hana told Jungkook about her school art project, the day she went to aquarium with her samchons, how Namjoon samchon broke the hand fan and lost the car keys—only to find them later in his jacket's inner pocket—and how, during all this, Jin samchon was fuming. Jungkook laughed until his stomach hurt, and Taehyung couldn't stop watching him–the way his eyes crinkled, the dimple appearing each time he smiled.
When Hana finished eating, she curled up on Jungkook’s couch to watch a cartoon and promptly fell asleep in the middle of the episode.
Jungkook glanced over at her, his expression soft. “And… she's out again.”
“She never lasts past nine thirty,” Taehyung said, smiling fondly. “I’ll move her to her bed.”
“You can leave her,” Jungkook said gently. “She looks comfortable.”
Taehyung nodded, standing to collect the plates—but Jungkook beat him to it.
“I’ve got it,” Jungkook said quickly.
“You cooked. I'll clean.”
Jungkook grinned. “Then let's do it together.”
Taehyung hesitated for a moment–then gave in. “Fine!!”
💜🩷💚
The kitchen felt different with Taehyung beside him.
Not crowded—just right.
Taehyung stood next to him, sleeves rolled up, his movements quiet and precise as he rinsed dishes. Jungkook dried them, trying very hard to not get distracted by how close they were.
The soft sound of running water, the clink of porcelain, and the faint hum of Taehyung’s voice created a soft silence that didn't need words.
“Thank you for this,” Jungkook said after a while, his voice low.
Taehyung glanced over. “For what?”
“For coming. For always showing up.”
Taehyung’s hands stilled briefly under the tap. “You don't have to thank me for that.”
“I do,” Jungkook said gently.
Something flickered in Taehyung’s eyes—something Jungkook guessed– understanding, pain.
For a moment, neither spoke. The water kept running.
Then, quietly, Taehyung reached over and turned the tap off. The sudden silence between them was louder than anything.
When Jungkook looked up, Taehyung was watching him–eyes soft but searching, hesitant, as if trying to memorize this moment.
Jungkook’s breath got caught in his chest.
He didn't move closer right away. He didn't have to. It just happened–the air between them shifting into something fragile.
“Jungkook…” Taehyung’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Yeah?”
“This–” Taehyung hesitated, eyes flickering to Jungkook’s lips before quickly looking away. “This feels dangerous.”
Jungkook smiled faintly. “I’ve been in danger since the day I first saw you on the balcony, Tae.”
Taehyung let out a soft laugh—that quiet, disbelieving sound that made Jungkook’s heart skip a beat.
And then, before either of them could think more, Jungkook leaned in.
It wasn't a deep kiss–just a soft brush of lips, tentative and trembling. A moment that could have been mistaken for an accident if not for how long it lingered.
Taehyung’s breath hitched, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he found himself leaning closer, his lips moving against Jungkook’s with a quiet desperation he hadn't known was waiting inside him. For that fleeting moment, there was no past, no fears–just the warmth of Jungkook’s lips and the dizziness it brought.
Then Hana coughed in her sleep.
The sound snapped through the stillness of the moment. Taehyung froze, the world rushing back all at once–the responsibilities waiting for him, the scars of betrayal he still carried. He stepped back abrupt, breath uneven, guilt and fear rising in his chest.
Jungkook blinked, eyes wide, the silence heavy between them
“I shouldn't have–” Taehyung started, voice barely steady. Then he stepped back, clearing his throat softly. “You should rest. And I should carry Hana home.”
Jungkook nodded, understanding the rush. “Right.”
As Taehyung lifted Hana into his arms, she stirred briefly before going back to sleep.
Taehyung smiled down at her, then looked at Jungkook. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Hyung,” Jungkook said, voice low.
When the door closed, Jungkook leaned against the counter, touching his lips–still tasting the faint sweetness of Taehyung’s lips.
Chapter Text
He could still feel it—the warmth of Jungkook’s lips, the way the world had gone quiet for that single moment. It was soft, hesitant, but it burned through him all at the same time.
Now, two days later, Taehyung still hasn't stopped thinking about it. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt it again. And every time he did, the fear clawed higher in his chest.
He'd built his life on simple predictability–wake up, get ready, get Hana ready, drop her to school, work, pick Hana from school, dinner, and bedtime. It was safe, steady, and small. There was no room for chaos, no room for heartbreak.
And Jungkook—with his bright laughter, his easy charm, the way he had quietly slipped into their lives– he was kind, good with Hana, gentle in all the ways Taehyung didn't realize he'd been craving.
But the moment their lips touched, every part of him that had been under years of restraint came alive again.
And that was exactly why he panicked.
So it started subtly.
One morning, when Jungkook waved from the hallway, Taehyung smiled—but it didn't reach his eyes. He excused himself with a polite, “running late,” and left quickly.
When Jungkook texted him— “hi, hyung. Can we hangout later in the evening :)” —Taehyung replied hours later with just “Can’t. at my brother’s place.”
And when Hana asked if Kookie could come over for dinner, Taehyung said, “he's probably busy, sweetheart,” before she could even ask him.
He told himself it was temporary—just space to clear his head, to remind himself what he was protecting.
But the truth was, every time he looked at Jungkook, he saw everything he was afraid of wanting.
He wasn't angry at Jungkook.
If anything he was angry at himself—for letting someone in again, for letting the warmth slip past his walls.
He remembered the time, when his partner had said the words "I can't do this anymore.”
The room had been quiet. Hana had been barely two.
The woman Taehyung thought he'd build his forever with, had stood at the door, suitcase in hand and papers on the table, saying she wasn't ready for a life like this–she can't parent the baby ‘their baby.’
And Taehyung had let her go. Because love shouldn't have to beg.
But that day had left something behind–a kind of quiet panic that surfaced every time someone started meaning too much.
Now, watching Jungkook laugh with Hana, watching how easy it was for him to belong, Taehyung felt that panic again.
What if he got used to this and it all disappeared again?
Because Jungkook was freer, with an entire life ahead of him. What if he left too? —and if he did, it wouldn't just break him. It would break Hana too.
The thought itself hollowed him out.
So he did what he thought was the best option—he pulled away.
💜🩷💚
It didn't take a genius to realise Taehyung was avoiding him.
Jungkook wasn't the kind of person to chase someone who clearly needed space—but this felt different. It wasn't anger. It was fear, and that was somehow worse.
At first, he told himself not to overthink it. Maybe Taehyung was busy, maybe work was rough, maybe Hana had some school work. But then the texts started getting shorter. The smiles started getting smaller. Long gone was that boxy grin that Jungkook started loving so much. The warmth—the quiet comfort they'd built–started slipping through the cracks.
And Jungkook hated how much it hurt.
He'd gotten used to having them around. To Hana’s laughter, to Taehyung's soft baritone voice.
Now there was only silence where those things used to be.
He tried giving Taehyung space, but space turned into distance, and it was worrying him.
By the next week of barely exchanged words, Jungkook decided he couldn't take it anymore.
So when he saw Taehyung leaving for groceries that night, he stepped out into the hallway, his voice low but steady.
“Hyung, wait.”
Taehyung froze mid-step. Slowly, he turned to face him. “Jungkook.”
“Can we talk? It's not gonna take much time.”
Taehyung hesitated, glancing at the grocery list in his hand like it was an escape route. Then he nodded. “Okay”
They sat on the bench in their neighbourhood park. Neither of them spoke for a long time.
Finally, Jungkook broke the silence. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Taehyung exhaled quietly. “I’ve been busy.”
“Don’t do that,” Jungkook said gently. “Please don't lie to me, hyung.”
Taehyung’s throat tightened. “I’m not—”
“You are.” Jungkook’s tone was not angry–it was calm, but the hurt was evident in it. “You are shutting me out. I just…I need to know why.”
Jungkook turned to him fully, searching his face. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” Taehyung said quickly. “God, no. You didn't."
They both fell silent again.
Jungkook stared at him–at the man who unknowingly held his heart in his palm.
“Hyung,” he said softly. “What happened that day…that kiss—I know it meant something. To me, it did. Did it not to you?”
Taehyung closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were full of tears he refused to let fall.
“It was a mistake,” he whispered.
The words hit Jungkook harder than he'd expected—quiet, cold and final. For a moment he couldn't breathe. Then he nodded slowly, forcing a small, bitter smile. “Right. A mistake.”
“Jungkook—”
“No, it's okay,” Jungkook said, his voice soft but breaking. “If that's what you need to tell yourself, I get it.”
He stood, shoving his hands into his pockets, trying to hold himself together. “I'll give you space, Taehyung. You don't have to worry about me or Hana. I'll step back."
He gave a small hollow smile. “Take care of yourself, Taehyung.”
And with that he turned and left.
Chapter Text
The silence had lasted longer than he'd expected. Longer than he'd wanted.
Jungkook had meant it when he said he'd step back-
No more knocks on the door,
No more texts checking up on him or Hana, that if they have got home safe,
No more laughter spilling from the next apartment.
And Hana felt it the most.
At first, she tried pretending it didn't bother her. She kept herself busy with her drawings and games, but she always told Taehyung stories that included “Kookie” in every one of them.
But after a week of unanswered “can we visit Kookie today?” questions, her voice lost its usual sparkle.
One evening, as Taehyung was folding laundry, he heard a quiet sniffle behind him. He turned to see–and there she was, sitting cross legged on the carpet, holding her jellycat bunny, eyes glistening.
“Appa?”
Taehyung’s heart clenched. “Yes, baby?”
Her voice came out small, trembling. “Did I do something bad?”
He froze. “What?”
“Did I trouble Kookie too much?” she whispered, fiddling with the ear of her stuffed bunny. “Is that why he's not coming anymore? Is he mad at me?”
The words shattered something inside him.
Taehyung dropped the shirt he'd been folding and immediately crouched down in front of her, cupping her cheeks gently. “No, sweetheart. No, absolutely no. You didn't do anything wrong.”
She sniffled again, tears spilling over. “Then why doesn't he come? You said Kookie likes us.”
“He does,” Taehyung said softly, his own voice breaking. “He does, baby. Very much.”
“Then why?”
Taehyung swallowed hard, the guilt clawing at his chest.
Because I pushed him away. Because I was too afraid to let myself be happy. Because I hurt him before I could get hurt.
He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “Kookie is not mad, my love. Appa just…made a mistake.”
She hiccuped into his shoulder. “Then say sorry.”
Taehyung froze again.
It was such a simple suggestion, so innocent. But it hit him with great force—quiet, sharp, undeniable.
Maybe it was time.
Maybe he owed Jungkook—them—that much.
He found himself standing in front of Jungkook’s door later that night, heart pounding in his throat.
The hallway was dim, the faint hum of the city outside could be heard in the distance.
He almost turned back twice. But then he remembered Hana’s tearful eyes, her trembling little voice.
He took a deep breath and knocked.
The door opened after a few seconds, revealing Jungkook—hair damp from a shower, dressed in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, looking handsome. His surprise was immediate, followed by hesitation.
“Taehyung,” he said softly.
“Hi,” Taehyung managed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I…talk to you?”
Jungkook hesitated for only a moment before stepping aside. “Yeah. Of course—come in.”
The apartment was quiet, lit only by a soft lamp near the couch. It smelled faintly of detergent and coffee—familiar, comforting.
Jungkook gestured toward the couch. “You can sit, Taehyung.”
Taehyung did, his hands twisting nervously in his lap. Jungkook sat on the opposite side, keeping a polite distance, eyes cautious but gentle.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Taehyung exhaled shakily. “You were right.”
Jungkook frowned slightly. “About what?”
“About me pushing you away.”
Jungkook’s expression softened, but he stayed silent, letting him continue.
Taehyung swallowed. “I was trying to protect us.”
Jungkook’s voice was quiet. “From what?”
“From losing someone again.” Taehyung looked down, fingers tightening. “When Hana was barely two, my ex-partner left. She said she couldn't do it–that she can't be a parent to Hana, and that she'd fallen out of love.”
Jungkook’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing. Just thinking how someone could ever fall out of love with Taehyung—who was everything good and kind–and Hana, the sweetest bundle of joy, made his heart ache.
“I didn't blame her,” Taehyung continued softly. “Not really. I told myself people fall out of love sometimes. But it broke something in me anyway. I spent years pretending I was fine, that Hana was enough—and she is, she's my everything—but part of me always thought that everyone leaves at some point or another.”
He finally looked up, meeting Jungkook’s eyes. “So when you came along, you were kind and sweet and made everything feel lighter…I panicked. Because it felt too easy. Too good.”
Jungkook’s breath caught.
“I thought if I ended it before it began,” Taehyung said quietly, "I could control the pain this time. I could keep Hana from getting attached, and keep myself from falling.”
“But you already had,” Jungkook asked quietly, as if checking.
Taehyung smiled weakly. “Yeah. I already had.”
Silence stretched between them—heavy, but honest.
Taehyung’s voice trembled as he said, “and I'm so scared right now, Kook. Because you've created a home in my heart within no time, do you know that? You fit here–with me, with Hana—and it terrifies me because I don't know what I'd do if I lost that. If I lost you.
He looked down, blinking hard. “I’m sorry. For everything I said. For calling that kiss a mistake—when it's the only thing I've been able to think about these past few days.”
💜🩷💚
For a long time, Jungkook couldn't speak.
He'd imagined this conversation a few times—but he hadn't imagined this. Not this vulnerability, not this raw honesty.
He saw the exhaustion in Taehyung’s eyes—not the kind that came from sleepless nights, but the kind that came from carrying too much fear for too long.
He moved closer to him, slowly, until their knees almost touched, and took Taehyung’s hand in his.
“Hyung,” he said softly, “look at me.”
Taehyung hesitated, then lifted his gaze.
Jungkook’s voice was low, steady. “Don’t push me away again, Tae. Please.”
Taehyung blinked, startled by the gentle plea in his tone.
Jungkook’s eyes softened. “You matter to me. Both of you. You and Hana—you’re the best part of my day. And I know you're scared, I get that. But I'm not going anywhere.”
Taehyung’s breath trembled. “You can't promise that.”
“I can,” Jungkook said, his voice firm. “Not that life will be perfect. But I will try. Every day. I'll show up. You don't have to face everything alone.”
Taehyung’s throat tightened, tears threatening to fall again. “Why are you so good to me?”
Jungkook smiled faintly and cupped Taehyung’s cheek with other hand. “Because you deserve everything good. You always did. And because I like you a lot, Kim Taehyung.”
The silence that followed wasn't heavy this time—it was soft, it was full.
Taehyung leaned into the touch unconsciously, his voice small. “You’re really not angry with me?”
Jungkook shook his head. “I was hurt, yeah. But not angry. I just…missed you. Both of you.”
Taehyung laughed quietly, a shaky sound somewhere between relief and guilt. “Hana missed you too. She thought you were mad at her.”
That made Jungkook’s eyes soften further. “She really said that?”
Taehyung nodded. “She cried about it. That’s what made me come here tonight.”
Jungkook smiled sadly. “She is too pure for this world.”
“So is her Kookie.” Taehyung couldn’t stop himself from saying it.
Jungkook looked at him for a moment—eyes warm. “Then maybe her Appa can let me back in again?”
Taehyung exhaled shakily, a tear slipping free. “I think her Appa already has.”
Neither of them moved for a moment. They stayed there, comfortable silence wrapping around them.
Then Jungkook reached out, brushing his thumb against Taehyung’s cheek, wiping away the lone tear.
“Hey,” he murmured. “You don't have to be scared anymore.”
Taehyung again leaned into the touch without meaning to, eyes fluttering shut. “I'll probably still be scared,” he whispered. “But maybe that's okay. Maybe this time I don't have to do it all alone.”
Jungkook smiled softly. “Exactly.”
Their foreheads touched first—a soft touch of warmth. And then Jungkook tilted his head just slightly, catching Taehyung’s gaze one last time before closing the space between them.
The kiss started slow, gentle—but the moment Taehyung sighed against Jungkook’s lips everything shifted. Jungkook’s hand tightened around Taehyung’s nape, pulling him closer. Taehyung’s fingers fisted in Jungkook’s hair, as if anchoring himself.
The kiss deepened naturally–lips parting, breath mingling, a soft hum slipping between them. The air grew warmer.
Taehyung felt Jungkook's heartbeat against his chest–fast and real–and something eased inside him, his fear melting into want and relief.
When they pulled apart, they stayed close—close enough that their noses brushed.
Jungkook smiled—small, breathless, tender. His thumb traced the edge of Taehyung’s lower lip. “I meant every word. I'm not going anywhere.”
Taehyung’s lips curved faintly, slightly swollen from the kiss. “Don’t, not ever.”
Jungkook’s eyes softened. “Never.”
“And listen…I like you too, Jeon Jungkook,” Taehyung said, before hiding his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook just pulled him closer by the waist. smiling softly and so much endeared by the man who held his heart.
Chapter Text
Taehyung hadn't realised how heavy the silence had become until it was gone.
The next morning, sunlight spilled through the curtains, soft and golden, and everything felt…lighter.
He caught himself smiling at nothing—at the memory of Jungkook’s arms around him, at how patiently he listened to him, at the memory of their kiss.
And for once, he didn't push the feeling away.
It was a slow morning—it was the weekend, after all. Hana was eating her breakfast when a knock sounded at the door.
Taehyung got up to answer it, already knowing who would be on the other side. As he let Jungkook in, he cleared his throat to get Hana’s attention.
Her head snapped up instantly. “Kookie?” she gasped. The moment she saw Jungkook, she dropped her spoon bolting towards the door.
“Wait, Hana—”
Too late. She's already jumping into Jungkook’s arms.
💜🩷💚
He barely had time to blink before a small bundle of energy crashed into him, arms wrapping tightly around his waist.
“Kookie!” Hana’s voice wobbled, thick with tears. “You didn't come for so long!”
Jungkook’s heart clenched. He crouched down, gently brushing a hand through her hair. “Hey. hey. I'm sorry, sunshine.”
Her lips trembled. “Were you mad at me?”
“What? No, sweetheart,” Jungkook said quickly, voice soft. “Never. Not at all.”
“Appa also said you weren't," she mumbled against his shoulder, “but I thought maybe you didn't like me anymore.”
Jungkook felt his throat tighten. He hugged her a little tighter. “I could never stop liking you. You're my favourite little person in the whole world, okay?”
Hana sniffled. “Promise?”
“Promise, baby.”
When she finally pulled back, her cheeks were damp, but her smile was back—bright and honest, the kind that always made everyone melt.
Taehyung leaned against the doorway, watching the scene unfold. His heart felt too full of words.
Hana was bouncing again, already tugging Jungkook towards the living room. “I have soo many things to show you, Kookie.” She went inside her room to get her things, leaving Jungkook in the living room with Taehyung.
He glanced at Taehyung and quickly gave a small peck to his lips. “Good morning, Tae.”
Taehyung smiled softly, a faint blush adorning his cheeks. “Morning, Kook.”
Just that—simple words, but there was something in the way they said them now.
“Kookie, come here. Please,” Hana’s voice called from her room.
“Coming, sweetheart,” replied Jungkook, his voice gentle.
💜🩷💚
And then just like that, mornings began to feel different again.
They fell into a rhythm without realising it. If Taehyung had an early meeting, Jungkook made breakfast—pancakes, sandwiches and sometimes just simple eggs. Always perfect (as Hana says it)
If Jungkook was running late for a trial, Taehyung packed lunchboxes and hummed soft tunes in the kitchen while Hana talked about her day in the background.
They started alternating drop-offs and pick-ups—Jungkook driving Hana to school on Tuesdays and Fridays, Taehyung on the rest.
One day Hana came home with a doodle titled. Me, Appa, and Kookie, taped proudly at the fridge.
The simple routine blurred the edges of their lives until everything overlapped—effortless, natural, theirs.
Evenings turned into small pockets of joy.
They'd all curl up on the couch, watching any random anime or a ghibli movie. Hana would giggle at Jungkook’s dramatic commentary while Taehyung pretended to scold them both, as to let him listen to what the characters are saying, but failing every time.
Other nights, they ate dinner at Jungkook’s apartment, Hana swinging her legs under the table while the two of them bickered.
“I’ll be doing the dishes.” Jungkook announced.
Taehyung raised a brow. “How many times do I have to tell this to you—when one cooks, the other does the dishes!!”
Jungkook just grabbed the dishes and made his way to the kitchen. Taehyung followed him a moment later.
“Kook, let me do this. You already do so much.”
Jungkook glanced out of the kitchen, checking to see if Hana was looking. When the coast was clear, he just grabbed Taehyung by his waist, pulling him close and kissing him square on the mouth.
Taehyung was caught off guard but sighed into the kiss anyway.
“I'll do this, baby. Just sit here and tell me about your day…hmm?”
So Taehyung did. He talked, and laughter filled the room—the kind of laugh that had carved out a special place in Jungkook’s heart.
Weekends were for little outings—bookstores, cafes, the park near Hana’s school. They went out on small picnics, carrying snacks. Hana would run ahead, with Jungkook chasing after her, while Taehyung sat and watched the scene unfold with pure adoration.
When Jungkook finally caught her, he tickled her until she burst into bright, loud giggles—music to his ears.
And sometimes, when Hana would insist on a sleepover, they'd all stay at Jungkook’s place.
Hana basically had her own room by now, at Jungkook's place. Her toothbrush sat next to Jungkook’s now. Her pink blanket stayed folded at the end of his couch.
💜🩷💚
It was ordinary things that made Jungkook realise how much he loved them.
Taehyung half-asleep in the morning, his hair a soft mess. Hana laughed at his jokes while Taehyung pretended to roll his eyes. The way Taehyung sometimes hummed while stirring tea, for both of them. His voice low and gentle.
Love slipped into his life the way sunlight made its way through the blinds—silently and impossible to ignore.
One night, when Hana fell asleep on the couch, he carried her to bed. He laid her down, covered her with a blanket and kissed her forehead.
When he stepped back into the living room, the air felt softer somehow—dim lights and the faint scent of vanilla surrounded them
Taehyung stood by the balcony door, looking out at the skyline. Jungkook joined him, their shoulders brushing.
“Do you ever think about how far we've come?” Jungkook asked quietly.
Taehyung smiled. “Every day.”
“You could've shut me out completely,” Jungkook said. “But you didn't.”
“I tried, didn’t I?” Taehyung admitted. “You made a space in both of our hearts, that was not possible.”
Jungkook simply said. “Loving you is so easy, Tae.”
The words hung in the air, quiet but certain.
Taehyung’s lips curved. “Say it again.”
Jungkook leaned in closer, voice low. “I love you, Tae.”
Taehyung’s heart stuttered, warmth filling his chest. “I love you too, Kook.”
And then they kissed—soft at first, then slower, deeper, like they couldn't get enough of each other.
Taehyung’s hands slid up to Jungkook’s neck, Jungkook’s arms circling around his waist, pulling him closer until there wasn't any space left.
When they finally broke apart, Taehyung rested his forehead against Jungkook’s, smiling. “You realise Hana’s going to find out immediately.”
“I bet, she already knows.” Jungkook murmured. ‘She's smarter than both of us.”
They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, hearts steady and full.
The quiet between them wasn't heavy.
It was peace.
It was love.
Chapter Text
It was strange, Taehyung thought, how easily love could settle into the corners of everyday life.
A year ago, the idea of letting someone in had terrified him. Now, the sound of Jungkook humming in the kitchen, the sight of Hana’s toys scattered across the living room carpet—it all felt natural.
After their confession, things changed, but softly. Nothing rushed or forced.
Taehyung and Hana moved into Jungkook’s apartment within a few months. The place was big, open, filled with light and laughter.
Hana’s room was painted a soft lilac with fairy lights. Jungkook had insisted on that. “I want only the best for her,” he said, watching as Taehyung picked curtains.
Taehyung had looked at him with soft eyes.
Their old apartment became something else entirely. Taehyung couldn't bring himself to give it up, so they turned it into a shared office space.
Jungkook worked on his case files there sometimes, and Taehyung coded in the corner, music playing softly between them.
Sometimes, on weekends, they invite friends over. Yoongi and Jimin would arrive first, teasing Jungkook endlessly at how soft he'd become now, but he's happy. Hobi always came with enough laughter to fill the entire place. Namjoon and Jin followed, arms full of food.
It wasn't fancy–just takeout boxes, music, and laughter echoing through the rooms–but it was perfect.
It was family.
💜🩷💚
A year slipped by like that–quiet, full, complete.
It was early evening now, soft light spreading across the living room. Jungkook sat at the dining table, pretending to work on his laptop while sneaking glances at Taehyung and Hana on the couch.
Taehyung was helping her braid a doll’s hair with exaggerated concentration. Hana giggles every few seconds, correcting him.
“Appa, no, not like that! Twist this first,” she said, holding out the tiny strands.
“You’re getting really bossy, you know.”
“Wonder where she gets it from,” Jungkook murmured under his breath.
Taehyung shot him a look, trying not to smile. “I heard that.”
“You were supposed to, my love.” Jungkook said, grinning.
Hana beamed between them, “We’re all done! Look, Kookie!”
Jungkook looked up, resting his chin on his hand. “You’re both perfect,” he said softly.
Taehyung’s heart tripped a little. He still wasn't used to how easily Jungkook could say things like that–as if love was the simplest truth in the world.
And maybe, with him, it was.
Later that evening, after Hana fell asleep, Jungkook stood on the balcony, hands shoved in his pockets. The city stretched before him, lights twinkling.
This was where he'd first seen Taehyung—standing there, hair tousled, sharp features. Back then, Jungkook hadn't known that one day, this man would be his everything.
He smiled quietly, then turned when he heard soft footsteps behind him.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Taehyung said, coming closer. His arms slipped around Jungkook’s neck easily, his chin resting on his shoulder.
“Caught me,” Jungkook murmured. “Just thinking…about how we got here.”
Taehyung hummed. “It's been a year.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook said, smiling. “A perfect one.”
He turned Taehyung, looking at him properly. “Do you know that my love has only grown for you. I love you more than I did yesterday, more than I did back then.”
Taehyung laughed softly. “That’s impressive. Given that you were a mess about me back then.”
“I still am,” Jungkook admitted.
Before Taehyung could respond, the balcony door creaked open.
“Appa? Kookie?”
They turned to find Hana standing there, clutching her bunny, eyes bright.
Jungkook crouched down, smiling. “Hey, sweetheart. Shouldn't you be in bed?”
“I can't sleep,” she said with a pout. Then, after a pause, “can I help you with the surprise now?”
Taehyung frowned. “What surprise?”
Hana covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide as she looked at Jungkook “Oopps. sorry Kookie.”
Jungkook laughed quietly. “It’s okay, baby. He's going to find out anyway.”
Taehyung blinked. “What’s going on?”
Jungkook stood up, heart pounding. “Stay right there, okay?”
He took a small velvet box from his pocket—something he'd been carrying for weeks now, waiting for the right moment. And this was it. The same balcony where he'd first seen the man he's in love with.
Jungkook smiled nervously, taking a deep breath before turning towards Taehyung.
“You know,” he began softly, “I still remember the first time I saw you standing there. I didn't know anything about you—not your name, not your story–but I remember that my heart was in danger.”
Taehyung blinked, his eyes already glassy.
“And I was right,” Jungkook continued. “You changed everything for me. You and Hana—gave me a family I didn't even know I needed.”
He dropped to one knee, the city lights flickering around them. Taking a deep breath.
“Kim Taehyung,” Jungkook said, voice trembling but sure, “will you marry me and be my husband?”
Taehyung froze, eyes wide, lips parting soundlessly. He replied, voice shaking. “Yes, Kook. Of course, yes.”
Jungkook stood up, barely managing to slip the ring onto his finder before Taehyung pulled him into his arms.
“I love you,” Taehyung murmured against his shoulder.
“I love you too, baby,” Jungkook whispered back.
Hana clapped her hands together, bouncing on her toes. “Yay! Appa said yes!”
They laughed, breaking apart, turning to her. Jungkook crouched down again. “We nailed the surprise, huh?”
Hana nodded and asked Jungkook to lean in closer. “Kookie?”
“Yeah, love?”
Her voice came out small, hesitant. “Can I… can I call you Papa now?”
Jungkook froze. His breath hitched, eyes instantly wet again. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said, voice breaking. “Yes. Yes, please.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “I love you, Papa.”
That was it. Jungkook completely lost it—crying and hugging her so tight that Taehyung had to crouch beside them, rubbing his back.
“Breathe, love,” Taehyung whispered. “You’re going to scare her.”
“I'm fine,” Jungkook sniffled. Laughing wetly. “Just—my heart's too full, Tae.”
Taehyung smiled, his thumb brushing away a tear. “Mine too.”
💜🩷💚
Later that night, after calming down his emotional fiance, Taehyung found himself on the couch, a blanket over his legs. Jungkook and Hana were both half- asleep—Hana curled up on the other side, Jungkook on the other, their heads resting against Taehyung’s lap.
The TV flickered softly, neither of them was really watching.
Taehyung ran his fingers through Hana’s hair, then through Jungkook’s. His chest ached with something deep and warm.
He looked around–the messy coffee table, the half- finished mug of tea.
This was it.
The peace he'd been chasing, the love he thought he'd lost.
It was here.
Perfect and real.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Jungkook’s forehead.
“Thank you for being our home, our person, Kook.”
Jungkook’s eyes fluttered open just long enough to smile at his to-be-husband. “And you two are mine.”
Taehyung chest ached in the best way. He brushed a hand through Jungkook’s hair, tracing the curve of his cheek before leaning down again–this time, slower. Their lips met softly, just a brush at first—warm, and familiar. Jungkook tilted his head slightly, kissing him back with a quiet sigh, like it was the easiest thing in the world.
When they parted. Taehyung lingered, their foreheads touching, breaths mingling.
This was everything. Their world–small and perfect–just the three of them, wrapped in warmth.
It was Warmth.
It was Love.
It was Home.