Work Text
400 years ago
The night garden was peaceful, lit by the full moon. The air was cool, and the scent of flowers mixed with the earthy smell of old trees. A man walked alone on the stone path. He was the king of Gwacheon, walking through his palace grounds without any guards. The king walked to a pond where the water was still, reflecting the moon and stars like a mirror. His steps were soft and careful. For a moment, the heavy burden of being a king lifted as he enjoyed the quiet beauty of the garden. He stopped at the water's edge, looking at the calm surface of the pond. The cold air chilled him through his royal robes, but he felt at peace. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and enjoyed the calm around him. Suddenly, a sharp pain hit his stomach. His eyes opened wide in shock. He looked down and saw the tip of a sword sticking out of his stomach, blood spreading on his robes. The pain and shock were too much. He stumbled forward, trying to hold the wound with shaking hands. His strength faded quickly. He tried to turn and see who attacked him, but he fell to the ground. His vision blurred, darkness closing in. The last thing he saw was the moonlight shining on the pond as his world went black.
Present(2024)
Seokjin woke up suddenly, his heart racing. He was covered in sweat and breathing hard. The room was dark, lit only by a streetlamp outside. He lay still for a moment, trying to calm down. The dream was still fresh in his mind. This wasn't the first time he had this nightmare. It haunted him constantly, reminding him of a past he couldn't escape. The pain, the blood, the cold moonlight—it all felt so real, like he was reliving his death over and over again. Seokjin turned his head and looked at the other person sleeping beside him. His naked figure lay peacefully, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Seokjin gently pulled the bedsheet over the man, covering him fully. He couldn't sleep anymore after the nightmare, so he quietly got up. Discarding his pants last night after he and Jungkook made up like hungry wolves, Seokjin now reached for them. He slipped them on, trying not to disturb Jungkook. The memories of the night before briefly pushed the nightmare aside, but the lingering dread soon returned. Seokjin walked to the window, looking out at the quiet street. The city was asleep, unaware of the turmoil inside him. Seokjin took a deep breath, trying to let go of his fear and confusion. He knew he had to keep going, to keep searching for the person who killed him so long ago. Turning away from the window, Seokjin glanced back at Jungkook one more time before leaving the room. The dream would come again, he knew, but so would his resolve. And with each day, he got closer to finding the truth that had eluded him for centuries. Seokjin left the bedroom and walked to the kitchen. He glanced at the clock; it read 5:30 in the morning. With a sigh, he decided to make his favorite mocha. The familiar routine of brewing coffee always brought him a measure of comfort. He started the coffee machine, listening to the soft hum as it began to work. Just as the rich aroma of coffee filled the air, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his naked torso. Jungkook's chin rested on Seokjin's broad shoulder. Seokjin chuckled lightly, feeling the warmth of Jungkook's embrace. "Can't you sleep?" he asked, his voice soft. Jungkook nuzzled closer, his breath warm against Seokjin's skin. "Not without you," he murmured. Seokjin smiled, the tension from the nightmare easing slightly. The steady, comforting presence of Jungkook calmed him. He turned his attention back to the coffee, savoring the moment of peace in Jungkook's arms. Jungkook's hands roamed over Seokjin's stomach, tracing gentle patterns. "Is it here?" Jungkook murmured, his fingers gliding over Seokjin's skin. "Or here?" He moved his hands slightly, his touch feather-light. "If only I could see that damn sword, I'd pull it out and end your misery.. Then marry you.. " “To pull it out, You have to be my murder Kook-ah..” “I'd be anything for you hyung.. If that can bring you peace…” Seokjin's smile was sad. "We've talked about this, Kook-ah… You could be my friend, dongsaeng—” "—bed warmer..." "No, it's not like that. You are not just that to me. Please, you are the only person I trust, Kook-ah. You are my peace, but I can't—" "—love you… yeah, I know, hyung. Sorry for bringing this up early in the morning. It's not your fault that I love you so much that I'd do anything for you. But I get it. You don't see me as a potential partner." "Jungkook… I'm not a human. Gosh… I'm not dead either. I'm just a soul trapped in my old body trying to find the end of this fucking tunnel. You don't deserve me, Kook-ah. You will find someone, especially a human, who will treat you better," Seokjin replied softly. "Also.. It's not just about the sword. It's about finding the truth." Jungkook's eyes flashed with hurt and anger. He unwrapped himself from Seokjin and stepped back, his jaw clenched. Seokjin took his coffee and sat down at the table, feeling a pang of guilt for causing Jungkook pain. He took a sip, trying to steady his nerves. Jungkook went to the fridge, grabbed a beer can, and opened it with a sharp hiss. Seokjin eyed the beer, worry creasing his brow, but he shook his head. He wanted to change the subject, to ease the tension between them. "What is your schedule today?" Seokjin asked, his voice gentle. Jungkook leaned against the counter, taking a long drink from the can. He avoided Seokjin's gaze, his expression still tight with emotion. "I need to contact Jimin," he replied tersely. "The brand launch of Jin ramen and the after party is happening tomorrow.. So need to know how the preparation is going on..” Seokjin nodded, taking another sip of his mocha. With heavy hearts and unspoken words hanging in the air, Seokjin and Jungkook sat silently at the table, each lost in their own thoughts. *****************************************************
10 years ago
The marketplace buzzed with activity as Seokjin strolled through the crowded streets. His keen eyes scanned the colorful displays of goods while his mind wandered, lost in thought. Suddenly, a commotion broke out ahead of him, and he saw a young boy not more than twelve years old darting through the crowd. Before Seokjin could react, the boy collided with him, tumbling to the ground in a heap. Concerned, Seokjin rushed to his side, but the boy recoiled, fear evident in his eyes. Then, amidst the chaos, Seokjin heard the shouts of "thief" echoing through the marketplace. Understanding dawned on Seokjin as he realized the boy's predicament. With a flick of his fingers and a soft click, Seokjin enacted his power, casting an illusion upon the surrounding crowd. To the boy's surprise, the people who had been shouting accusations of theft suddenly passed by without so much as a glance in his direction. Confusion etched on his face, the boy looked up at Seokjin, his eyes wide with disbelief. "W-who are y-you?" he asked, his voice trembling. Seokjin smiled gently, his expression reassuring. "W-what did y-you do t-to me?" the boy stuttered. Instead of answering, Seokjin posed a question of his own. "What is the most precious thing to you?" his voice soft but firm. The boy's eyes widened in realization, and without hesitation, he replied, "My hyung." Seokjin nodded in understanding. "Do you like it if someone steals your hyung from you?" he asked. The boy shook his head vehemently. "No… never," he answered. "Then think twice," Seokjin said gently. "You need to correct what you did." Seokjin extended his hand towards the boy, offering assistance. Reluctantly, the boy grabbed Seokjin's hand, who helped him to his feet. Once the boy stood, they found themselves in front of a small convenience store, the boy's confusion evident. "H-how….!!! How did you do that??" the boy asked, his eyes wide with wonder. Seokjin gave a smile that the boy confused more.. "It's time to undo your wrongdoing, kid," He replied cryptically. Slowly, the boy retrieved a packet of biscuits from inside his dirty jacket and returned it to the stall where he had taken it. Seokjin's smile widened with pride as he gently patted the boy's head. "You are a good kid," he said warmly. "You just needed a guide. Don't ever take anything from others without asking, even if you are hungry. It's the same as you don't like someone to steal your precious things, and vice versa. They also don't like it. The boy returned Seokjin's smile, a boxy grin spreading across his face. "I'm sorry, mister," he said earnestly. "I'll never steal again." Seokjin nodded approvingly, his heart swelling with compassion for the young boy. "I believe you," he replied, his voice filled with genuine warmth. "Remember, you have the power to choose your actions. Make them count." The boy gave him a shy smile… "How old are you kid..?"
"Fourteen.."
"Where is your hyung?" The boy's eyes clouded with sadness as he replied, "My hyung is at after school. He's good at studies, he gives tuition for other students so he can make his pocket money." Seokjin nodded, impressed by the boy's brother's dedication to his studies. "And where are your parents?" he inquired softly, his gaze filled with empathy. The boy's gaze dropped to the ground, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his sorrow. Seokjin reached out, cupping the boy's chubby cheeks in his hands, offering silent comfort. "What happened kiddo..?” "My both parents are dead," the boy replied quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "After they passed away five years ago my uncle from father's side got the custody over us, but he's very alcoholic.. He waste all the money that my parents saved for me and my hyung.. He doesn't mind if I ate, or go school.. " Seokjin's heart clenched at the boy's words, his sympathy for the boy's plight growing stronger with each passing moment. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "You shouldn't have to go through this." The boy's eyes filled with tears as he continued, "I was so hungry today because hyung is coming late, so that's why I stole it. Forgive me, mister, but don't tell my hyung. He will be disappointed in me. He loves me so much, but he will never accept this kind of thing from me. He is studying hard so he can earn money and give me a good life.. He is always telling me when he is 18 he will take me far away from this.. We just have to wait 2 years for that.. So.. Please don't tell him." Seokjin's heart ached for the boy's dilemma, torn between his love for his hyung and his desperate circumstances. Gently, he brushed away the boy's tears, his voice soft and reassuring. "I won't tell your hyung," he promised. "But you have to promise me something too." The boy nodded eagerly, his eyes wide with hope. "Anything, mister," he said earnestly. Seokjin smiled warmly, his heart swelling with compassion for the young boy. "You have to be a good boy," he said gently, his voice filled with paternal concern. "Your hyung loves you very much, and he's working hard to give you a good life. Don't let him down." The boy nodded solemnly, his determination shining through despite his tears. "I won't, mister," he said resolutely. "I promise." Seokjin squeezed the boy's hand reassuringly, his heart filled with hope for the boy's future. "Good," he said softly.... Then he kneeled down in front of the boy, his heart heavy with empathy for Taehyung's situation. Seokjin reached into his pocket and retrieved a small wooden token, its surface adorned with the image of a tuna. "Take this, kiddo," Seokjin said, offering the token to boy. Boy's eyes widened with surprise as he took the token in his small hands. "Taehyung," the boy said softly. Seokjin smiled warmly. "What?" he asked, curious about the sudden revelation. "I'm Taehyung," the boy replied shyly. Seokjin chuckled softly. "Oh, then Taehyung, take this token," he said, his voice gentle yet firm. "Whenever you're hungry, just go to the 'Jinmart' supermarket and show this. You can eat whatever you want." Taehyung's eyes widened with disbelief. "Really?" he asked, his voice filled with awe and gratitude. Seokjin nodded, his smile unwavering. "Thank you, mister," Taehyung said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. Seokjin's heart swelled with warmth at Taehyung's gratitude. "You're welcome, Taehyung," he replied, his voice filled with kindness. Taehyung hugged Seokjin tightly, his joy palpable in the embrace. But Seokjin's heart swelled with conflicting emotions. The warmth of Taehyung's gratitude was undeniable, yet beneath the surface, Seokjin felt an ache, a tearing sensation that gnawed at his chest. Ignoring the discomfort, Seokjin tried to focus on the moment, on Taehyung's happiness. But as the hug lingered, the pain intensified, becoming unbearable. With a heavy heart, Seokjin knew he had to break the embrace, despite the boy's evident happiness. Gently extricating himself from Taehyung, Seokjin offered a reassuring smile, masking the turmoil within. " I must be going now." Taehyung's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of concern crossing his features, but he quickly regained his composure. "Thank you, mister for everything," he said earnestly, his gratitude shining in his eyes. Seokjin returned the boy's smile… As Seokjin turned to leave, he heard Taehyung's curious voice behind him. "Who are you, mister?" Seokjin paused, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "I'm world-wide handsome, you know," he said with a playful wink. Taehyung burst into laughter, the sound bright and infectious. Seokjin's heart lightened at the boy's joy, and he felt a warmth spread through him despite the lingering pain. "Thank you, mister world-wide handsome," Taehyung said, his eyes shining with gratitude. With a final nod and a smile, Seokjin turned and began to walk away. As he moved through the bustling marketplace, he glanced back to see Taehyung waving energetically, his small hand high in the air. "Bye, mister world-wide handsome!" Taehyung shouted, his voice carrying across the market. Seokjin shook his head with a fond smile, watching until Taehyung's silhouette faded from sight. Then, with a deep breath, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving a question in his head.. What is that pain.. And most surprising thing is, it is the first time he felt a pain across his heart after 390 years of his death. *****************************************************
Present
Yoongi's office was an intriguing blend of the ancient and the modern, a space that embodied his unique position as the gatekeeper between the living and the dead. Despite being a demon, he had adapted his surroundings to match the era, reflecting a keen sense of contemporary style. The room was furnished with sleek, dark wood furniture and equipped with the latest technology, including a state-of-the-art computer and various digital devices. Yet, amidst this modernity, there were remnants of the past: ancient scrolls, a feather quill, and a large, ornately carved desk that seemed to belong to another age. The most striking feature of the office was the vast collection of books and artifacts that lined the walls, each item a testament to the countless souls Yoongi had guided over the centuries. The soft glow of strategically placed lamps created an atmosphere of subdued elegance, casting shadows that seemed to dance with a life of their own. Yoongi himself, seated at his desk, was a figure of both menace and mystery. A deep scar ran from his right eye to his chin, a stark reminder of battles fought and won. Despite his intimidating appearance, those who knew him well understood that beneath the fearsome exterior lay a being of great depth and complexity. At this moment, Yoongi was engrossed in his work, meticulously writing in a leather-bound ledger with an old-fashioned feather pen. His concentration was unwavering, his eyes following the elegant script as he recorded details of souls destined for the afterlife. Across from him, Seokjin sat in a plush armchair, his demeanor contrasting sharply with the solemnity of Yoongi's task. Seokjin was in the midst of a passionate rant about his mortal life, his words flowing rapidly as he vented his frustrations. Despite Seokjin's animated gestures and the fervor in his voice, Yoongi seemed largely unmoved, his attention fixed on the ledger before him. "—and it's not just the nightmares, Yoongi," Seokjin continued, his tone exasperated. "It's the constant search, the endless wandering. I can't take much more of this." Yoongi's pen never wavered, each stroke precise and deliberate. He acknowledged Seokjin's presence with a slight nod but did not look up. His silence was both a comfort and an irritant to Seokjin, who was used to Yoongi's taciturn nature but needed some sign of understanding. "Do you even hear me?" Seokjin demanded, his frustration boiling over. "I'm pouring my heart out here, and you're acting like I'm not even in the room." Yoongi paused, finally lifting his gaze to meet Seokjin's. His eyes, dark and piercing, held a depth of wisdom and weariness that spoke of centuries spent straddling the line between life and death. "I hear you, Seokjin," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of his ancient duty. "But the path you walk is one only you can navigate. My role is to guide souls, not to interfere with the lives of the living." Seokjin sighed, the tension easing slightly from his shoulders. "I know, I know. It's just... I wish there was an end in sight. This eternal life as a phantom is wearing me down." Yoongi's expression softened, a rare glimpse of the compassion that lay beneath his stern exterior. "Your burden is great, Seokjin. But remember, every soul has its purpose. Yours is to find your murderer and pull out the sword. And until then, you must endure." The room fell silent, the only sound the soft scratching of Yoongi's pen against paper. Seokjin sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair. "Jungkook brought up the proposal again," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. Yoongi's pen halted mid-stroke, his eyes flashing with concern. "Again?" he asked, looking up at Seokjin with a frown. "Yes," Seokjin replied, his expression weary. "He brought it up this morning." Yoongi's gaze sharpened. "So you slept with him again." Seokjin's face told the story, even before he nodded slightly. Yoongi let out a long breath, shaking his head in disbelief. "I told you to stop hooking up with him if you want to stop giving him hope. He has been in love with you since the day he was introduced to you by his father.. And that's also 15 years ago.. He was only 7 years when he starts to fucking love you Seokjin… Why do you keep doing the same mistake over and over again?" " ....... “ "It's not something I can just stop, Yoongi-ah," Seokjin replied, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I don't have the heart to stop him whenever he kiss me… I.. I crave it too… He's the only person I trust and am comfortable with. And he knows I don't love him. I've warned him. I'm not taking advantage of his feelings." Yoongi's frustration was evident, his eyes narrowing. "But he still loves you. Isn't that enough to understand what's going on in that arrogant rascal's head?" Seokjin murmured quietly, almost to himself, "He is not arrogant." "Whatever you say," Yoongi said dismissively, returning to his work, though his concern for Seokjin lingered in the air between them. Pang… Seokjin heard a notification sound and instinctively reached for his phone, but to his surprise, it wasn't his. Instead, he noticed Yoongi casually pulling out a sleek, new phone from his pocket. Seokjin's eyes widened with amusement. "So, you bought a phone," Seokjin said, raising one eyebrow. "A new model. Expensive one." Yoongi, still focused on his work, tried to ignore Seokjin's prying eyes. "Ahh, this... This is just a gift," he answered nonchalantly. "By whom?" Seokjin asked, his curiosity piqued as Yoongi's evasiveness made him more suspicious. "Huh?" Yoongi replied, quickly putting his phone back into the drawer of his desk. "I asked who gifted you a phone," Seokjin reiterated. "Last time I checked, you had no one to call because, in your words, I come to see you every day, and you can mind link to your fellows." Yoongi sighed, realizing he couldn't avoid the conversation. "Okay, fine... It's from Jimin." "Gotcha!" Seokjin exclaimed, bursting into laughter. "I knew there was something going on, but never thought it was this deep." "Listen, Seokjin, it's not like that with Jimin.. He is a human and I'm a demon.. He gave me this so he can know whenever you're here because Jungkook is worried about you," Yoongi explained, trying to remain composed. "Jimin can call me. He has my number," Seokjin countered, still chuckling. "What the fuck are you implying, Seokjin? Go and ask Jimin why he can't simply text you. I'm just a receiver," Yoongi said, his patience wearing thin. "Okay, okay, but keep me updated with everything going on between you and Jimin," Seokjin teased, laughing. "I... SAID... NOTHING... IS GOING ON... BETWEEN ME AND—" Yoongi's eyes began to flare with an angry light, but Seokjin quickly raised a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter. "Alright, alright," Seokjin said, attempting to change the subject. "So, what does he want?" Yoongi sighed, calming himself. "He wants me to come to a party." "A party?" Seokjin asked, intrigued. "Yes. Something called a Jin Ramen brand launching, and he wants me to come to the after-party," Yoongi replied. Seokjin's eyes widened in surprise. "Dude... Do you even pay attention to me? I'm the owner of Jin Tech, Jin foods, Jin lounge and even that fucking Jin ramen… it's my party." "There is nothing under your name.. It's all under Jeon Jungkook.. Because according to Korean law a phantom can't own a business.. So you are just out of the equation.. Also… If Jimin invited me, then it's his party," Yoongi shrugged and went back to his ledger, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Seokjin couldn't help but laugh. "Yo… I wasn't going to come.. But now I'm eager to come and see the drama going on between you and Jimin.." “Let's see whose going tangle in a drama series..” Yoongi mumbled… “What..?” Seokjin asked.. “Speak louder you grandpa..” Yoongi didn't respond, instead, he continued writing in his ledger, but Seokjin could see the faintest hint of a smile on his friend's scarred face. Seokjin shook his head not understanding what going on his friend's head..😉
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
1 week ago - The Ancient Palace Excavation Site, Gwacheon
The sun blazed overhead, casting sharp shadows on the excavation site as Professor Namjoon led his team of eager students through the ruins of an ancient palace in Gwacheon. The dig had been ongoing for weeks, but today, a palpable sense of anticipation hung in the air. "Alright everyone, this looks promising. Let's see what's inside," Namjoon said, pointing to a half-buried stone chest. "Do you think it's another batch of pottery shards, Professor?" one student asked, their voice filled with curiosity. "Maybe, but let's hope for something more exciting," Namjoon replied with a smile. With careful precision, the students excavated the stone chest. Namjoon knelt beside it, gently prying open the lid. Inside, they found a tightly sealed wooden box, remarkably well-preserved. "Wow, look at that! The craftsmanship is incredible," another student exclaimed, awe evident in their voice. "Indeed. This box might have belonged to someone of high status. Let's open it carefully," Namjoon instructed.Namjoon slowly lifted the lid of the wooden box, revealing its contents. The students gasped in unison as they saw an old, weathered portrait of a king, along with several scrolls and a beautifully embroidered robe. "Look at this portrait… he must have been a king. I've never seen a face like this before," Namjoon said, his voice tinged with amazement. The king depicted in the portrait had an oval face, big doe eyes, and plump, rose-colored lips. Despite the age of the painting, the man's ethereal beauty shone through. "He's… stunning. Almost looks unreal, doesn't he?" another student murmured, captivated by the image. "Yes, even in this old paint, he looks ethereal. The artist captured his essence perfectly," Namjoon agreed. As Namjoon admired the portrait, he noticed the scrolls beside it. He gently unwrapped one of them, the ancient letters might be revealing intricate calligraphy detailing the king's life and reign… he need to investigate the letters to find out that.. Among the scrolls was a robe, carefully folded and embroidered with a distinctive tuna pattern. "This symbol on the robe… it looks familiar somehow," Namjoon mused aloud. "What do you mean, Professor?" a student asked, curious. "I'm not sure, but I've seen this pattern before. We'll need to investigate further," Namjoon replied, his brow furrowed in thought. Ignoring the nagging familiarity of the tuna embroidery for the moment, Namjoon focused on cataloging the items for further study. He made careful notes and took photographs, ensuring every detail was recorded. "Alright, everyone. Let's pack these up carefully. We'll transport them back to my office at SNU for a more detailed analysis," Namjoon instructed. "This is incredible, Professor. Finding something this well-preserved is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity," one student remarked, excitement evident in their voice. "Indeed it is. Let's make sure we handle everything with the utmost care," Namjoon said, smiling at his team. The team worked diligently to pack the portrait, scrolls, and robe into protective containers. "Who are you, really?" Namjoon muttered to himself, his mind racing with questions. With the items secured, Namjoon supervised their transport to his office in Seoul. As the last box was loaded onto the truck, he took one last look at the excavation site, a sense of anticipation filling him. "Great work today, everyone. This is just the beginning. Let's see what secrets these artifacts hold," Namjoon said, addressing his students. The team cheered, their excitement palpable. Namjoon climbed into his car, his mind still fixated on the ethereal king in the portrait and the robe with the familiar tuna embroidery. He couldn't wait to delve deeper into the mystery that awaited them back at SNU. **************************************************** Present - Hannam Hill Apartment, Seoul "Hyung!" Taehyung greeted excitedly as the video call connected. His pout was evident even through the screen. "It's been ages since I saw you. How do I look?" Namjoon's face lit up with a warm smile. "You look stunning, Tae. The suit really suits you." Taehyung twirled in front of the camera, the light catching his outfit just right. "You think so? The stylist did an amazing job, right?" "You look perfect, as always," Namjoon reassured, his eyes crinkling with affection. "You’re going to be the star of the show tonight." Taehyung’s smile grew even brighter, but then his expression turned more serious. "When are you coming back, hyung? I haven't seen you in forever." Namjoon sighed softly. "You know how it is, Tae. Work at the university has been hectic. Plus, I have some ongoing investigations that need my attention." "I know, but I miss you," Taehyung admitted, his voice tinged with longing. "It’s not the same without you around." "I miss you too, Tae," Namjoon replied, his voice softening. "I promise I’ll make it up to you. We’ll have a proper hangout soon." Taehyung’s eyes wandered to a small wooden token on his dressing table. Noticing this, Namjoon raised an eyebrow. "Are you still trying to find that man with no identity?" Taehyung picked up the token, the tuna insignia catching the light. "Yes, hyung. I want to thank him. If he hadn't helped me that day, I might have ended up in prison." Namjoon’s expression grew skeptical. "Tae, we've talked about this. No human can teleport and manipulate others to be invisible. Are you sure you didn't just make up that story?" Taehyung shook his head firmly, his eyes serious. "No, hyung. I didn’t make it up. He was real, and I need to find him. I owe him my gratitude." Namjoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, Tae. If it means that much to you, keep looking. Just be careful, okay?" "I will," Taehyung promised. "But it’s frustrating. I have no idea where to start. It’s been so long, and I don’t even know his name." Namjoon’s gaze softened as he looked at his brother. "You have a good heart, Tae. I just don’t want you to get hurt. Sometimes, people from our past are meant to stay there." Taehyung nodded slowly, understanding his brother’s concern. "I get it, hyung. But I can’t just forget about him. He saved me. I need to at least try to find him." Namjoon smiled gently. "I understand. Just promise me you won’t let this search consume you. You have a bright future ahead, and I don’t want you to lose sight of that." "I promise, hyung," Taehyung replied, his smile returning. "I’ll be careful." The brothers shared a moment of silence, the bond between them palpable even through the screen. Namjoon’s eyes drifted back to Taehyung’s outfit. "So, are you ready for the party tonight?" "Yeah, but it would be better if you were coming," Taehyung said, pouting again. "It’s the launch of Jin Ramen, and I’m the brand ambassador. It’s a big deal." "I know it is, and I’m proud of you," Namjoon said. "You’re doing amazing things, Tae. Just enjoy the night and have fun." "I will," Taehyung said, his smile widening. "But don’t forget about me, okay? Promise you’ll call more often?" “I promise," Namjoon said, his voice firm. "I’ll make more time for you, Tae. You’re important to me." "Thanks, hyung," Taehyung said, his voice soft. "I’ll hold you to that. See you later." "See you later, Tae," Namjoon replied, his smile lingering as the call ended. Taehyung put down his phone, his thoughts lingering on his brother. Namjoon had always been his rock, a steady presence in his life. Determined to enjoy the evening despite his brother’s absence, Taehyung took a deep breath and flashed a bright smile at his reflection. He touched the contuor of that tuna embedded token.. His mind went deeper… Tonight was his night, and he was ready to shine. But deep down, he is lonely… his brother is far away from him.. He didn't have a lover to share his life with. People only approach him because of his fame, he was cheated by twice before. Taehyung was exhausted when it comes to relationships. The only force that drive him forward was his work.. He loved his job, working as an actor, it made him being lot of characters that he can't be in real life. He enjoyed it… Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a familiar voice broke through his reverie. "Aigooooo, my Taehyung-ah... You look beautiful," a man exclaimed, his eyes alight with affection as he stepped into the room. Startled, Taehyung gasped and look at the door… The token dropped on the table with a soft thud.. “Ohhh…. Hobi hyung!" Taehyung grinned, caught off guard by his friend's unexpected entrance. Hoseok, as Taehyung called by hobi, crossed the room in quick strides, gathering Taehyung into a tight embrace. "I've missed you, buddy," he murmured, his warmth enveloping Taehyung like a comforting blanket. Returning the embrace, Taehyung felt a surge of gratitude for his friend's presence. "I've missed you too, Hobi hyung," he admitted, the weight of loneliness lifting from his shoulders in Hoseok's embrace. "Taehyung-ah, you look absolutely stunning!" "Hobi hyung! You’re looking great too," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. Hoseok released Taehyung and took a step back, his eyes scanning over Taehyung’s outfit. "You’re going to steal the show tonight, Tae. Jin Ramen couldn’t have chosen a better brand ambassador." Taehyung chuckled, feeling grateful for Hoseok’s unwavering support. "Thanks, hyung. I hope I do justice to the brand." "You always do," Hoseok said with a smile. "But enough about work. Tonight is about celebrating your success. Let’s make some unforgettable memories." Taehyung nodded, feeling a surge of excitement coursing through him. "I’m ready to have some fun,too hobi hyung.. " he declared, his eyes shining with anticipation. "Come on, let's get going. We don't want to be late for the party," he suggested, a playful glint in his eye. Taehyung nodded, allowing himself to be led out of the room.. As they left the room, Hoseok glanced back at the room. His eyes flicked to the table where Taehyung had been staring earlier when he entered the room. He noticed a token lying there—the tuna embedded in it—and for a split second, blue lightning lines spark around it, the symbol shining brightly. Not showing any change in his expression, Hoseok put his arm around Taehyung's shoulder grabbing him close. *****************************************************
Present - at Hotel Grand Hyatt, Incheon
The grand hall of the luxurious venue was alive with activity as Jimin meticulously adjusted the final details for the party. Fairy lights hung like stars from the ceiling, casting a warm, ethereal glow over the guests as they mingled. Tables were adorned with elegant centerpieces of white roses and candles, while a live band played soft jazz in the background. Jungkook, the young chairman of Jin Corporation, stood beside Jimin, greeting the guests as they arrived. Jungkook glanced at Jimin with a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I still can't believe he's not coming. It just feels... empty without him." Jimin paused in his task and placed a comforting hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. "I know, Jungkook. Seokjin-hyung isn’t exactly social. Being a phantom and all, he's not comfortable showing his face in public. But you know he appreciates all the hard work you're doing for him." Jungkook nodded, his gaze distant. "I just wish he would let me in, you know? I love him, Jimin. I always have, but he never seems to accept it." Jimin sighed sympathetically. "I know, Jungkook. But you've been by his side through thick and thin.. You know what he stopping him.. It's not about you Jungkook… it's about the whole situation he is tied up. " Before Jungkook could respond, the sound of excited whispers and gasps swept through the room. Jimin and Jungkook turned to see what was causing the commotion, and their eyes landed on Taehyung, who had just made his entrance. Taehyung walked in with an air of confidence that was almost palpable. He wore a tailored black suit that accentuated his tall, lean figure. His broad shoulders and slim waist were perfectly highlighted, and his attire shimmered subtly under the lights. His face was striking—big, wide eyes framed by long lashes, a long, aristocratic nose, and thin, red lips that curled into a charming smile. The crowd seemed to part for him as he moved gracefully through the room. "Wow," Jimin breathed, clearly impressed. "Taehyung really knows how to make an entrance." Jungkook glanced at Taehyung and then quickly looked away, his thoughts still lingering on Seokjin. "Yeah, whatever." Seeing Jungkook's arrogance, Jimin quickly changed the subject. "Come on, let’s go say hi. You should meet him." Reluctantly, Jungkook followed Jimin as they made their way towards Taehyung. Jimin approached with a bright smile. "Taehyung-ah! You look amazing tonight." Taehyung turned his attention to Jimin, his eyes lighting up. "Jimin-ah! Thank you. The place looks incredible." Jimin beamed. "Thanks, Taehyung”, then gestured towards Jungkook. "Taehyung, I’d like you to meet Jeon Jungkook, the youngest chairman of Jin Corporation. Jungkook, this is Kim Taehyung, over most stunning beautiful brand ambassador." Jungkook nodded curtly, not meeting Taehyung's eyes. "Hi." Taehyung, however, seemed intrigued. He extended his hand with a charming smile. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jungkook-ssi." Jungkook hesitated for a moment before shaking Taehyung's hand briefly, then looked away, clearly ignoring. Understanding the tension, Jimin quickly interjected. "So, Taehyung, did you come alone?" Taehyung smiled and shook his head. "No, Hobi-hyung dropped me off. He had some other commitments, though." "Ah, Hoseok. He’s always busy, I invited him too, since he is the one who did the amazing flower arrangements… but sadly he has some other things to do… " Jimin replied, laughing softly. "Well, we’re glad you could make it. Tonight is going to be special." Taehyung nodded, his eyes scanning the room. "I’m excited. It’s a big night for the brand." As they spoke, Jimin couldn't help but notice the way Taehyung's eyes seemed to light up whenever they landed on Jungkook. There was a spark of interest there, a curiosity that Jimin couldn't ignore. Perhaps this was an opportunity to nudge Jungkook towards someone new, someone who could help him move on from his unrequited love for Seokjin. Suddenly, Jimin had an idea. "Actually, Jungkook-ah, I just remembered I have something urgent to attend to," he said, his tone casual yet deliberate. "Could you do me a favor and keep Taehyung company while I take care of it? I won't be long." Jungkook's jaw clenched slightly, his expression tightening for a moment before he forced a neutral look. "Sure, Jimin. I can do that," he replied, though his thoughts were elsewhere, conflicted between his duty to Jimin and his own feelings for Seokjin. Taehyung, who had been listening attentively, flashed a bright smile. "Oh, no problem, Jimin-ah. Take your time," he chimed in eagerly, his eyes flickering with excitement at the prospect of spending more time with Jungkook. With a grateful nod, Jimin excused himself and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Taehyung and Jungkook alone, Jungkook took a deep breath and turned to face Taehyung. He forced a polite smile, gesturing towards the champagne fountain at the center of the room. "Shall we grab a drink?" he suggested, trying to keep his tone light despite the unease gnawing at him. Taehyung's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he nodded. "Sure, that sounds great!" They walked over to the elegant champagne fountain, the soft glow of the lights reflecting off the cascading bubbles. Jungkook handed Taehyung a glass, then took one for himself. He took a sip, searching for the right words to break the silence. "So, how are you enjoying the party so far?" he asked, his voice casual. Taehyung smiled, his eyes fixed on Jungkook. "It's fantastic. Everything looks amazing. Jimin really outdid himself," he said, pausing for a moment before adding, "And you must be proud, as the youngest chairman of Jin Corporation." Jungkook nodded, his expression guarded. "Yes, Jimin did a great job. He always does." He glanced around the room, avoiding direct eye contact with Taehyung. "It's all about creating the right atmosphere for the brand." Taehyung's curiosity was piqued by Jungkook's reserved demeanor. He decided to probe a bit more. "So, Jungkook-ssi, what do you enjoy most about your work?" he asked, hoping to get a more personal response. Jungkook hesitated, then shrugged. "I enjoy the challenge, I suppose. Making sure everything runs smoothly, dealing with problems as they come up." He took another sip of champagne, his gaze distant. Taehyung tilted his head, studying Jungkook's face. "It must be a lot of pressure, being in charge of such a big company," he remarked, his tone genuine. Jungkook's lips curved into a small, almost bitter smile. "It has its moments," he replied vaguely. "But I manage." Despite Jungkook's curt answers, Taehyung found himself even more intrigued. There was something captivating about Jungkook's ignorance, a challenge that Taehyung couldn't resist. "You seem very dedicated," Taehyung observed. "But what do you do for fun? Surely, you must have some hobbies." Jungkook glanced at Taehyung, his expression softening slightly. "I like to work out, read sometimes. Not much time for anything else," he admitted. Taehyung's heart fluttered at the hint of vulnerability in Jungkook's voice. He wanted to know more, to peel back the layers of this man. "Do you have any favorite books?" he asked, leaning in slightly. Jungkook's eyes met Taehyung's for a brief moment before looking away. "A few," he said noncommittally. "Mostly business and philosophy." Taehyung's lips twitched into a smile. "You don't seem like the type to read philosophy," he teased gently. "Any particular reason?" Jungkook's guard dropped just a fraction. "I like the way it makes me think," he said quietly. "Helps me see things from different perspectives." "You know, Jungkook-ssi, I think you're more interesting than you let on," Taehyung said, his tone playful yet sincere. Jungkook chuckled, a sound that was both surprising and pleasant to Taehyung's ears. "You think so?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Absolutely," Taehyung replied confidently. "I'd like to get to know you better." Jungkook's smile faded slightly as he considered Taehyung's words. There was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, something that made Taehyung's heart race. "We'll see," Jungkook said finally. As they stood by the champagne fountain, sipping their drinks, Taehyung couldn't help but feel drawn to Jungkook's enigmatic aura. Despite the man's aloofness, there was an undeniable chemistry between them, a connection that Taehyung was determined to explore further. Jimin, watching from a distance, smirked to himself. His plan was working perfectly. He had noticed the way Taehyung's eyes lingered on Jungkook and the way Jungkook, despite his coldness, seemed to be opening up, even if just a little. He knew that pairing them together was a good idea, a potential power couple in the making. By the time they had moved on to their second glass of champagne, the air between them had shifted from cautious politeness to a comfortable familiarity. Taehyung's heart raced with excitement, and he couldn't help but feel that this was the start of something significant.He asked more questions, each one revealing a little more about the man who had unexpectedly captured his interest. And while Jungkook's answers remained guarded, there was a warmth in his eyes that suggested he was beginning to enjoy Taehyung's company. As they clinked their glasses together, Taehyung flashed Jungkook a bright smile. "To new beginnings," he said, his voice filled with promise. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, then returned the smile. "To new beginnings," he echoed, feeling a strange sense of hope stirring within him.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Jimin leaned against the balcony railing, his eyes scanning the lively crowd below. The music thumped rhythmically, the lights casting vibrant hues across the room. From his vantage point, he caught sight of Taehyung and Jungkook, engrossed in conversation and laughter. A smirk played on his lips as he observed his friends, their dynamic infectious even from afar. But Jimin had his own mission tonight. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found the name he was looking for. "Demon Cat" The grumpy gatekeeper who would rather be holed up in his dark office room than out at a party. Jimin sighed, preparing himself for the inevitable resistance. He hit the call button and brought the phone to his ear. It rang twice before Yoongi’s voice, rough and low, answered. "What do you want, Jimin?" "Hyung! Where are you?? I'm waiting for you to come… it's wonderful here.. You would love it." Jimin infused his voice with as much enthusiasm as possible. “I'm still at home.. I'm still thinking if I should come or not…” “Whatt?? Hyung… you promised me.. When I texted you.. How come you now change your words…” Jimin pouted… Yoongi groaned on the other end. "You know Jimin-ah… I hate these things…" "Come on, just for a little while. You might actually enjoy it. Plus, I miss you. It’s not the same without you here." There was a pause, and Jimin held his breath. It's not a secret for Yoongi that Jimin has feelings towards him.. "Fine," Yoongi muttered finally. "I’ll be there..." Jimin's face lit up. "Perfect! I'll be waiting for you." As soon as Jimin hung up, he felt a familiar presence behind him. He spun around, eyes wide in surprise, to see Yoongi standing there, still holding his phone. It was as if he had materialized out of thin air. "Yoongi-hyung.. What if someone saw you… !" Jimin's eyes brightened, and a radiant smile spread across his face. Without hesitation, he threw his arms around him, hugging him tightly. "You actually came!" Yoongi chuckled, patting Jimin’s back awkwardly. "Yeah, yeah. Couldn’t say no to you, could I?" Jimin pulled back just enough to look up at him, his eyes sparkling. "I’m so glad you’re here, hyung. Really. I was worried you'd stay locked up in your office forever." Yoongi sighed, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "You know me too well. I prefer my own company most days." "But not tonight," Jimin insisted, his grip on Yoongi tightening. "Tonight, you're with me." Yoongi glanced around, taking in the bustling scene. "Alright, alright. Let’s just get this over with. Where’s the bar?" Jimin laughed, taking Yoongi’s hand and leading him into the throng of people. "Come on, I’ll show you. And who knows, you might actually have fun." They weaved through the crowd, and Jimin's excitement was palpable. "Look, there’s Jungkook! And I might not accidentally setup him with our brand ambassador, Taehyung." Yoongi rolled his eyes but allowed himself to be pulled along. "Of course you are… always trying to match make people around you.. But honestly, Jimin, you didn’t have to drag me here. You know I’m not much for parties." "I know," Jimin said softly, glancing up at him. "But it means a lot to me that you're here. I… I like having you around." Yoongi paused, looking down at Jimin with a mixture of surprise and something softer. "Jimin, you know I… I can’t say no to you, right? Even if it means stepping out of my comfort zone." Jimin's heart skipped a beat at Yoongi's words. "I know, hyung. And I appreciate it more than you know." They reached the bar, and Jimin ordered their drinks, still holding onto Yoongi’s hand. "Here," he said, handing Yoongi a glass. Yoongi clinked his glass against Jimin’s. They drank, and Jimin felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the alcohol. He glanced over at Taehyung and Jungkook, who were watching them with curious smiles. Jimin shot them a triumphant grin before turning back to Yoongi. "So," Jimin said, leaning closer, "what do you want to do first? Dance? Chat with the others? Or just stay here and talk?" Yoongi considered this for a moment, then smirked. "Let’s dance. If I’m going to be here, I might as well make the most of it." Jimin’s eyes widened in delight. "Really? You’ll dance with me?" Yoongi nodded, a rare, genuine smile appearing on his face. "Only for you, Jimin. Only for you." Yoongi sighed and placed his drink down on the bar, his eyes narrowing slightly as he contemplated what he was about to do. With a decisive movement, he snaked his hand behind Jimin's tiny waist, pulling him closer. Jimin's breath hitched, but he allowed himself to be led, his heart racing. Yoongi guided Jimin to the dance floor, the thumping bass of the music vibrating through their bodies. The crowd seemed to melt away as they found a spot and began to sway to the rhythm. Yoongi's hand remained firmly on Jimin’s waist, while Jimin’s arms wrapped around Yoongi’s neck, drawing them impossibly close. Their breaths mingled, each exhale fanning the other’s face. Yoongi’s gaze was intense, locked onto Jimin’s plump, red lips. Jimin felt the weight of Yoongi’s stare and, almost instinctively, he licked his lips. The simple action seemed to electrify the air between them. The music continued, but they were in their own world, swaying gently to a rhythm that felt uniquely theirs. Jimin’s heart was pounding in his chest, his mind a whirl of emotions and unspoken words. Gathering his courage, he broke the silence, his voice barely a whisper. "What are we, hyung?" Jimin asked, his eyes searching Yoongi’s. Yoongi’s gaze softened, his hand tightening slightly on Jimin’s waist. "I’ll be anything you want," he replied, his voice low and sincere. Jimin’s breath hitched again. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing Yoongi’s ear as he whispered, "Then be my guardian. Be with me." Yoongi had a heart when he was human, but it was a long time ago.. His heart died the next moment he chooses to become a demon… but right now his dead heart skipped a beat at Jimin’s words. He pulled back slightly to look into Jimin’s eyes, his expression tender. "Jimin," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "I’ll always be with you. I’ll protect you and stay by your side, no matter what." The world around them seemed to fade entirely as Yoongi’s words hung in the air. Jimin’s eyes filled with tears of relief and happiness. He closed the small distance between them, their foreheads touching as he whispered, "Thank you, hyung." “I still remember how Seokjin introduced you to me.. I was surprised with how tiny and adorable you are..Jimin-ah..” Jimin chuckled as blush erupted his cheeks.. “I still remember how you freezed after seeing me.. Like you have seen a ghost even though your entire life you spend with dead.. Seriously hyung.. Am I that much handsome..?” “I have a fair reason for my actions that day.. But can't tell you… It's bound with my duty..” Yoongi's voice ting with sad.. “Hyunggggggg…how come you can't tell me even that simplest thing…”Jimin puckered his lips… With a gentle tilt of his head, Yoongi started at Jimin's face fondly and closed the gap between them, capturing Jimin’s lips in a tender, yet passionate kiss. The noise of the party, the lights, the crowd – everything disappeared. All that mattered was the warmth of Yoongi’s lips against his, the firm yet gentle hold on his waist, and the feeling of belonging that enveloped him completely. **************************************************** Seokjin slipped through the entrance of the bustling party, his presence almost ghost-like amidst the throng of guests. He had perfected the art of moving unnoticed, his demeanor low-key as he navigated the sea of bodies. "Why did Seok-ah leave me after dropping me here? Now I have to enjoy the show alone..." he muttered to himself. He sighed, his eyes scanning the room. The noise of the party was a constant hum in the background as Seokjin's gaze shifted, searching for the two people who had drawn him here tonight. Moving deeper into the party, blending in seamlessly with the crowd, he finally saw them. Jimin and Yoongi were on the dance floor, swaying close together, lost in their own world. Seokjin's curiosity was piqued, as it often was when it came to his friends. He had always been perceptive, and lately, he had noticed something different in the way Jimin looked at Yoongi. There was an affection there, a tenderness that seemed to go beyond their usual camaraderie. From his vantage point, Seokjin watched intently, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the scene. Jimin's arms were wrapped around Yoongi's neck, their bodies pressed close, moving in perfect synchrony to the music. The way Yoongi's hand rested possessively on Jimin's waist, the way they seemed to communicate without words, all of it intrigued Seokjin. He edged closer, careful not to draw attention to himself. He was thrilled to see Jimin, usually so full of energy, displaying such open affection towards Yoongi, the grumpy demon of their group. It was a side of Jimin that Seokjin had suspected but had never fully seen until now. Seokjin found a spot where he could observe without being noticed, his curiosity getting the better of him. He wanted to figure out what was going on between them, to understand the dynamics of their relationship. Was it just a fleeting moment of intimacy, or was there something deeper brewing between the two? He chuckled softly to himself, knowing how nosy he could be when it came to his inner circle. But this was different. Jimin was like a younger brother to him, and Yoongi, despite his gruff exterior, was someone Seokjin deeply respected and cared for. Seeing the two of them together like this made him feel a mix of protectiveness and excitement. “I know there is something you are hiding from me Yoongi-ah… otherwise your would never be this much close to a human… This is really surprising.. The reason must be very strong..” Seokjin sighs.. Just as he was settling into his thoughts, he heard his name called from behind. He turned around just in time to see Jungkook barreling toward him, a wide grin on his face. "Jin hyung, you came!" Jungkook exclaimed, pulling Seokjin into a hug. The strong scent of alcohol wafted off Jungkook, and Seokjin chuckled softly, patting his back. Before Seokjin could respond, he noticed a pair of big, curious eyes staring at him from behind Jungkook. The newcomer's mouth was agape, and Seokjin saw the boy mouth "mister" to himself, a look of recognition flashing across his face. Jungkook broke the hug and stepped back, still beaming. "I thought you wouldn't come," he said, his words slightly slurred from the alcohol. "But I'm glad you're here." The boy continued to stare at Seokjin, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and wonder. Seokjin couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen this boy before, but he couldn't quite place where. The boy’s intense gaze made him feel oddly familiar. "Ahh, Seokjin hyung," Jungkook began, noticing the prolonged stare, "this is Kim Taehyung, our brand ambassador. And Taehyung, this is Seokjin, my… uh…" Jungkook stumbled over his words, clearly unsure of how to describe their relationship. This was the first time he had introduced Seokjin to someone outside their immediate circle. Seokjin, sensing Jungkook's struggle, stepped in smoothly. "I'm his brother. It's nice to meet you, Taehyung-ssi." At Seokjin’s words, Jungkook’s expression faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features. Seokjin noticed it but had no time to address it as Taehyung’s eyes widened even more, and he blurted out, "Don't you remember me, mister?" Seokjin’s heart skipped a beat as he slowly began to recall the boy he had saved ten years ago. But he was certain he had erased the boy’s memory of his image. How could he still remember? "I… I…" Seokjin stammered, trying to find the right words. Taehyung interrupted, his voice filled with emotion. "You helped me ten years ago, at the market. You gave me a token with a tuna emblem. I’ve been looking for you, mister. I really wanted to thank you." Seokjin's mind raced as he remembered the event vividly. A young boy, lost and scared in the bustling market, and Seokjin, stepping in to help him. He had given the boy a token as a keepsake, hoping it would provide comfort. But he had also used his abilities to ensure the boy wouldn't remember his face. "It’s… it’s incredible that you remember," Seokjin managed to say, his voice tinged with awe and confusion. "I could never forget," Taehyung said earnestly. "I've been looking for you ever since. That token meant so much to me. It kept me going during some really tough times." Seokjin was puzzled. This was not the first time he had helped someone and erased their memories. People only remembered him after they died. But how had this young boy remembered him all this time? What was special about him? Taehyung’s excitement was palpable. "Can I give you a hug? I’ve been wanting to thank you properly for so long." Seokjin hesitated. Maybe this time he could erase Taehyung’s memory once and for all. "You can hug me," he said slowly, preparing himself. As Taehyung wrapped his arms around Seokjin, an unbearable pain suddenly shot through Seokjin's chest, as if a chainsaw were tearing it apart. He gasped, his eyes widening in shock. What surprised him even more was that he had felt nothing when Jungkook hugged him earlier. Why now? And then it hit him—he had felt this pain ten years ago when he hugged the little boy, but he had ignored it, thinking it was some malfunction in his long-term body. Seokjin broke the hug immediately, feeling tears gather in his eyes from the intense pain. He looked at Jungkook, who was watching with a mix of jealousy and concern. Taehyung, oblivious to the turmoil within Seokjin, continued to speak excitedly. "It’s so great to finally meet you again. You’ve no idea how much I wanted to thank you." But Seokjin was in another world. What the fuck just happened? Is it… is it because this guy is connected to my past? Or… or more precisely, is this my murderer? Seokjin bit his lip, his mind racing with possibilities. As he struggled to make sense of the situation, he could feel Taehyung’s gratitude and excitement, and Jungkook’s simmering jealousy. Seokjin realized that the answers he sought were not going to come easily, and the mystery surrounding Taehyung was far deeper than he had ever imagined. Seokjin tried once more to erase Taehyung's memories, focusing intently, but it was futile. Taehyung continued talking non-stop, his excitement palpable. "It's such a small world! I never thought I'd meet you again, Seokjin-ssi. I always tell my hyung that I'll find you.. But never thought that it would become real.. Sometimes my hyung thinks I'm crazy.!" Seokjin’s mind raced. Why isn't it working? This was unprecedented. He was now sure that Taehyung was his murderer, but why couldn’t Taehyung see the sword that was metaphorically stuck in his body? Did Taehyung need to see it from behind because the sword had entered his body from behind? Seokjin knew he needed to take immediate action but couldn’t do anything drastic here. He also couldn't let Taehyung slip away so easily. This was the first time he had encountered something connected to his past, the key to his never-ending life, his torment. He needed answers, and to get them, he had to keep Taehyung close. Seokjin's mind urged him to act nicely, to invite Taehyung for lunch or dinner—anything to keep him close. Without thinking, he spoke up. "Taehyung-ssi, I'd like to have lunch with you, if that's okay," Seokjin said, his tone sincere. "I'm moved by your actions. It's not every day someone remembers a good deed from ten years ago. People nowadays can be very ungrateful." Jungkook, who had been listening with a growing frown, interrupted, "Hyung, don’t you know that Taehyung-ssi is a busy actor? He won't have time—" But Taehyung immediately cut in, his eyes bright. "It's totally fine, Jungkook-ssi. I’ve really wanted to thank your brother in person for a long time. This means a lot to me. I'll clear my schedule for you, Seokjin-ssi. You have no idea how you saved me back then." Seokjin forced a smile, though his mind was a whirlpool of thoughts. He had never felt such pain as he did when Taehyung hugged him, except ten years ago. There was something more to this boy, something that connected deeply with his past. "Great," Seokjin said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. "How about tomorrow at noon? I'll send you a chauffeur, we can have lunch at my place.. " "That sounds perfect," Taehyung said, his smile wide and genuine. "I’m looking forward to it, Seokjin-ssi." Seokjin nodded, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He had to find answers, and this lunch might be the first step. He glanced at Jungkook, who was clearly unhappy but remained silent. Jungkook’s eyes were filled with jealousy, but Seokjin couldn't focus on that now. "Thank you for this opportunity," Taehyung said earnestly, breaking Seokjin's reverie. "You really don’t know how much this means to me." Seokjin smiled again, though his mind was miles away. "I’m looking forward to our lunch, Taehyung-ssi." ************************************************ Jimin twirled closer to Yoongi, curiosity dancing in his eyes. "Hey, isn't that Seokjin-hyung talking to Taehyung?" Yoongi, equally intrigued, followed Jimin’s gaze. "Yeah, how come… that’s rare.. Even though he said that he will come I never thought he would actually come… Let’s go see what’s up Jimin-ah.. " The two finished their dance and made their way over, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement. As they approached, they could hear bits of the conversation. "Hey, Seokjin-hyung," Jimin greeted with a bright smile. "You came.. ?" Seokjin looked up, a brief flicker of discomfort crossing his face before he composed himself. "Ah, Jimin-ah, Yoongi-ah. I… well.. I just wanted to come and enjoy..." “That's good to hear..also Taehyung-ah.. You met Seokjin hyung.. Anyway it seems like our Taehyung has captured you too Seokjin hyung …” Jungkook rolled his eyes.. Taehyung beamed, his excitement undimmed. "Actually Jimin-ah.. When I was little I had a terrible situation and Seokjin-ssi saved me.. It was ten years ago and this whole time I was searching for him because I owe him.. And I finally found him again!" Yoongi raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Ten years? That’s quite a long time to remember someone." Jungkook, who had been standing nearby with a sour expression, muttered, "Yeah, a real long time." Jimin’s eyes sparkled with interest. "That’s amazing, Taehyung.. I’m glad you found him." Seokjin, sensing the need to shift the dynamic, suggested, "Why don’t we all grab something to eat? It’s getting late, and we could use a break." Everyone agreed, and they found a quiet corner of the party where a spread of food awaited. As they sat down and began to eat, the conversation flowed naturally, but each person was lost in their own thoughts. Seokjin, while engaging in light conversation, kept his focus on Taehyung. He was determined to keep the young actor close, knowing this might be his chance to unlock the secrets of his past and his never-ending life. Jungkook, on the other hand, was battling a wave of jealousy. He couldn’t help but feel left out, especially when Seokjin had introduced himself as Jungkook’s brother. The bond he shared with Seokjin was special, and seeing Taehyung so close to him stirred an uneasy feeling in his chest. Jimin, ever the matchmaker, saw the situation differently. He noticed the subtle glances between Jungkook and Taehyung and couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement. He had always thought Jungkook deserved someone who could bring out his brighter side, and Taehyung seemed like the perfect match. Meanwhile, Taehyung, blissfully unaware of the undercurrents of tension, was simply happy to be there. Meeting Seokjin again after so many years filled him with joy, and he was eager to share the news with his Namjoonie hyung.. So he typed a message..
“Hyung I found him. And guess what he looks same.Now I believe magic is real.”
And next second Teahyung received a reply.. “I'm coming home tomorrow, so let's talk about this ‘mister handsome who not get age’ more.. Tc.. Hyung miss you ❤️”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“So, what’s going on with you and Jimin?" Seokjin asked, stretching his long legs on the sofa and resting his head on the armrest. His curiosity was piqued by Yoongi's silence. "Yoongi-ah, I'm talking to you," he said, raising his voice. Yoongi set his feather pen aside, propping his chin on his palms. "He asked me to be with him forever," Yoongi replied, gazing at a spot on the ceiling. Seokjin followed Yoongi's gaze. The ceiling was adorned with a painting depicting Yoongi's long journey: the dark realm, souls, and fire cracks. In the midst of the chaos was a small box floating, more like a jewelry box. Yoongi stretched his arm, pointing his index finger at the box. A small, gold-colored light emanated from his fingertip, and in the next second, the box was in front of Yoongi. He opened it with heavy eyes and took out a ring. Seokjin straightened his posture immediately, eyebrows knitting together. "Don’t tell me you’re going to propose to him," he asked, though it sounded more like a warning. A demon can’t be bound to anyone, especially if he is the one who keeps peace between the realms. "I did," Yoongi mumbled. "WHAT??" Seokjin screamed. "You can’t do that to my Jimin. You know you can’t." “.... " "I asked him years ago, Seokjin-ah… Many more years ago. Even I forgot to count," Yoongi sighed, his voice heavy with the weight of countless years. Seokjin’s full attention was on Yoongi now. Yoongi took a deep breath, eyes distant as he began to recount the story. Seokjin listened intently, knowing this was a rare moment of vulnerability from the usually stoic demon. "It was centuries ago," Yoongi started, his voice low and filled with a haunting sadness. "Back when I was still human. Jimin was a prince, and I was his bodyguard. We met when we were both very young. Jimin was always so full of life and curiosity, and it didn’t take long for me to fall in love with him. Our bond grew stronger with each passing year, though we kept our feelings hidden from the world." Seokjin nodded, encouraging Yoongi to continue. "One night, under the light of a full moon in the royal garden, I decided to take a risk. I had a ring—a simple band made of silver. It symbolized our love and the future I dreamed of with him.even it may seem foolish.. " Yoongi's eyes softened at the memory. "I proposed to him that night. Jimin accepted with tears in his eyes, and we spent that night dreaming of a life together, away from the constraints of royalty and duty. He slipped the ring on his finger and said, 'Only death can remove this from me.'" The atmosphere grew heavy as Yoongi's expression darkened. "But our happiness was short-lived. The very next day, I was called away to handle some urgent matters at the palace gates. But in the meantime Rebels who wanted to overthrow the monarchy attacked the palace. The chaos was unimaginable. In the midst of the attack, I fought my way back, desperate to reach Jimin, but I was too late." Yoongi's voice cracked slightly. "When I finally reached Jimin's quarters, he was gone. There was no sign of his body, only chaos and destruction. I searched everywhere, hoping against hope that he had somehow escaped. But all I found was the ring. It lay on his bed, covered in blood." Yoongi's gaze turned inward, haunted by the memory. "In that moment, I remembered Jimin's words from the night before: 'Only death can remove this from me.' The pain across my chest was unbearable. I searched for him like a wild dog, tearing through the palace and the surrounding areas, but I found nothing. Jimin had vanished without a trace." Yoongi's eyes were filled with torment. "I blamed myself for what happened to Jimin because I wasn't there to protect him. As the days turned into weeks and then months, I became consumed by my search. My mind was filled with nothing but thoughts of Jimin. I slowly went mad, driven by grief and guilt. A year after Jimin's disappearance, I couldn't bear it anymore. I hung myself, hoping to end the torment." Seokjin's eyes widened, but he remained silent, letting Yoongi continue. "Death wasn’t the end for me," Yoongi said, his tone turning bitter. "My sin was too great, and my determination to find Jimin even in death was too powerful. I became a demon, cursed to wander between the realms of the living and the dead. When my trial came, The God of Fate said I need to learn my lessons. Killing yourself is a huge sin. So he punished me by offering a position as the gatekeeper, He wanted me to see the tormented souls and guide them.. Maybe he wanted me to reduce my sin by doing good deeds. Anyway I accepted, thinking it was the only way I could find Jimin again." Yoongi's gaze drifted to the ceiling, where the painting of his journey loomed. "But with that position came an oath. I swore by blood that I could never bind myself to anyone, to prevent me from ever finding peace or closure. It's been an endless torment, always searching, never finding." Seokjin hesitated for a moment before asking, "Does Jimin know that he is the reason for you being like this?" Yoongi's eyes darkened instantly, and he shook his head. "No, he doesn't know. Promise me you won't tell him." "I won't tell, I promise. But you also have to promise me that you won't hurt Jimin," Seokjin said firmly. Yoongi's expression softened as he replied, "No, he is the love of my life. How could I hurt him? That's why I agreed to whatever he proposed, because in this life, I want to cherish him fully without seeing him in any sadness." A heavy silence settled in the room after Yoongi's tale. Seokjin took a deep breath, his expression grave. "I found my murderer," he finally said, breaking the stillness. Yoongi's eyes snapped wide open, his shock palpable. "Who is it?" he demanded. Seokjin's gaze was distant, as if reliving a memory. "Taehyung," he replied quietly. "Kim Taehyung? Your brand ambassador?" Yoongi asked, disbelief coloring his tone. Seokjin nodded. "Yes." Yoongi leaned forward, curiosity piqued. "How come?" Seokjin sighed, gathering his thoughts. "We met ten years ago. Taehyung was just a boy then, lost and scared in a market. I helped him, saved him from some thugs. To ensure he wouldn't remember me, I erased his memory. But today, he recognized me immediately. When he hugged me, I felt a pain through my heart, like a sword piercing through it." Yoongi's brows furrowed. "So you believe he's your murderer because of the pain you felt?" "That, and the fact that he’s the first person to remember me after all these years," Seokjin confirmed. "There’s something about him that connects to my past in a way I can’t ignore." "Then can Taehyung see the sword?" Yoongi asked, his eyes narrowing. "That's what I need to find out," Seokjin replied. "Maybe he saw it but isn't sure what he saw. Probably he’s confused. I need to meet him in person and make him comfortable enough to loosen up around me." Yoongi leaned back, piecing the puzzle together. "So that's why you asked him to come to lunch." Seokjin nodded again. "Exactly. I needed to understand how he remembers me and why his presence causes me such pain. It's unprecedented. I’ve helped and erased the memories of countless people. They only remember me after they die, if at all." "And now you have to keep him close to find out more." "Exactly," Seokjin agreed. "It's the only way to uncover the truth and perhaps end this torment." A silence fell between them again, heavy with the weight of their shared burdens. Finally, Yoongi spoke, his voice filled with a mix of relief and resignation. "I'm happy if this is the end of your search, Seokjin-ah. Perhaps this is the key to finding peace for both of us." Seokjin looked at Yoongi, gratitude and determination shining in his eyes. "Let's hope so, Yoongi. Let's hope so." *************************************************** Taehyung was sitting in the back seat of a luxurious black sedan, his phone held up in front of him on a video call with his brother, Namjoon. The excitement was evident in his eyes as he spoke. "Hyung, you won't believe it! I'm finally going to meet Seokjin-ssi!" Taehyung's voice was filled with enthusiasm. Namjoon's face on the screen, however, was marked by concern. "Are you sure about this, Tae? Can you trust him? We don't know who he is exactly." Taehyung rolled his eyes playfully. "I'll share my location with you if you have that much doubt. But hyung, trust me, once you see Seokjin-ssi, you might fall in love with him at first glance. He is so beautiful and handsome at the same time. Besides, he's Jungkook's brother. Jimin knows Jungkook well, so you have nothing to worry about." Namjoon still looked skeptical, his brows furrowed. "Alright, but keep me updated. I just want you to be safe." Taehyung nodded reassuringly. "Will do, hyung. Just look at this place!" he exclaimed, turning the phone to show Namjoon the view outside the car window. The car had turned onto a private road, flanked by tall, ancient trees. Their branches intertwined to form a natural canopy overhead, casting dappled shadows on the path. The dense forest gave way to a sense of seclusion and tranquility. "This is amazing," Taehyung whispered, his voice filled with awe. "You can't imagine a place like this exists in Seoul." Namjoon managed a small smile, though the worry didn’t leave his eyes. "It does look impressive. Just be careful, okay?" "Of course, hyung. By the way, at what time are you coming home?" Taehyung asked, a hint of concern creeping into his voice. Namjoon sighed, glancing at the cluttered room around him. "I'm still packing my things. There are some items I need to pack safely, so it's going to take some time." Taehyung pouted, his lips forming a perfect, exaggerated pout. "Don't tell me you're going to postpone again." Namjoon quickly shook his head, offering a reassuring smile. "No, no, Tae. I promise, dinner with you, didn't I?" Taehyung's pout transformed into a bright smile. "Okay, I'll hold you to that, hyung!" The car continued along the winding road, and soon, a grand manor came into view. It was a sprawling estate with tall, elegant spires and stone walls covered in ivy. Large, arched windows reflected the sunlight, and manicured gardens surrounded the building, filled with blooming flowers and perfectly trimmed hedges. "Hyung, look at this! It's like something out of a fairy tale," Taehyung said, his eyes wide with wonder as he showed Namjoon the manor. Namjoon's expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It does look impressive. Just be careful, okay?" "Of course, hyung. Bye!" Taehyung said, cutting the call as the car pulled up to the grand entrance of the manor. The car came to a smooth stop in front of the huge, intricately carved wooden doors. The butler approached and opened the car door for Taehyung. As he stepped out, he was immediately greeted by Seokjin, who stood at the top of the stone steps leading to the entrance. Seokjin's presence was commanding yet welcoming. He wore a perfectly tailored suit that accentuated his graceful figure, and his smile was warm and inviting. If there had been any small doubt in Taehyung's mind, it vanished the moment he saw Seokjin. "Welcome, Taehyung-ssi," Seokjin said, his voice as soothing as a gentle breeze. "I hope your journey was pleasant." Taehyung smiled brightly, feeling a surge of excitement. "It was wonderful, thank you for inviting me." Without hesitation, Taehyung stepped forward and hugged Seokjin. He felt a slight discomfort in Seokjin's posture but chose to ignore it, too caught up in the moment. "It's so nice to finally meet you in person, Seokjin-ssi," Taehyung said, pulling back to look at him. Seokjin's smile remained, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Taehyung-ssi. Please, come inside." Inside, the manor was just as breathtaking as the outside. The high ceilings, grand staircases, and rooms filled with antique furniture and artwork created an atmosphere of timeless elegance. "Your home is incredible, Seokjin-ssi," Taehyung remarked, his eyes wide with admiration. "Thank you, Taehyung-ssi. I'm glad you like it," Seokjin replied warmly. "Shall we move to the dining room? I have a meal prepared for us." As they made their way to the dining room, Taehyung felt a growing sense of curiosity and excitement. Little did he know, Seokjin's mind was racing with thoughts and plans, determined to uncover the truth about Taehyung and his connection to his past. As they walked further into the manor, Seokjin led Taehyung to a grand dining room. The table was set elegantly, with fine china and crystal glasses. The soft glow of chandeliers overhead added to the ambiance, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. Taehyung couldn't help but marvel at the opulence. "This place is amazing, Seokjin-ssi. It's like something out of a movie." Seokjin smiled, pleased by Taehyung's reaction. "I'm glad you think so, Taehyung-ssi. Please, have a seat." As they settled at the table, a butler appeared, serving a series of dishes that looked as if they had been crafted by a master chef. There was a spread of Taehyung's favorite foods: kimchi jjigae, japchae, bulgogi, and a variety of side dishes. "I hope you like the meal," Seokjin said, his voice gentle and inviting. "I made sure to ask Jimin what your favorite foods were." Taehyung's eyes widened in delight. "You made all of this yourself? It's amazing, Seokjin-ssi. Thank you so much!" Seokjin nodded, watching Taehyung's reaction carefully. "Yes, I did. I enjoy cooking, and I wanted to make something special for you." "This is so yummy, Seokjin-ssi," Taehyung exclaimed. "My brother can't cook at all. All he can manage is instant ramen, and that's if he's lucky enough not to burn the pans." Seokjin chuckled, clearly amused. "I'm glad you like it. Cooking is one of my passions." As they began to eat, Seokjin kept the conversation light and friendly. He asked Taehyung about his work, his hobbies, and his life, all while keeping a keen eye on his reactions and movements. "So, Taehyung-ssi, do you enjoy acting?" Seokjin asked, genuinely interested. Taehyung nodded enthusiastically. "I love it. It's a lot of hard work, but it's also very rewarding. I get to meet so many interesting people and learn new things every day." Seokjin smiled. "That's wonderful to hear. It sounds like you're very passionate about what you do." They continued chatting as they ate, the conversation flowing easily. Seokjin found himself genuinely enjoying Taehyung's company, even as he reminded himself of the purpose of this meeting. Once they finished their meal, Taehyung leaned back, looking content. "That was amazing. Thank you, Seokjin-ssi." "Please, call me Jin hyung," Seokjin replied with a warm smile. "Jungkook and Jimin call me that, and since you three like the same age, you can too." Taehyung's eyes sparkled. "Alright, Jin hyung. Then you can call me just Taehyung." "Deal," Seokjin said, pleased with the familiarity forming between them. "Would you like to take a walk in the garden?" Taehyung nodded eagerly. "I'd love to." They left the dining room and stepped out into the garden, which was a beautifully maintained space filled with a variety of flowers and plants. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the gentle sound of a nearby fountain added to the tranquility. As they strolled through the garden, Taehyung seemed mesmerized by the surroundings. "This place is beautiful, Jin hyung." "Thank you, Taehyung. It's one of my favorite places to relax," Seokjin replied, his eyes scanning the lush greenery. After a moment, Taehyung hesitated before speaking. "Can I ask you something, Jin hyung?" "Of course," Seokjin said, turning to look at him. "Actually this question was left in my mind for quite some time… I know this is stupid but I can't help but ask.. Please forgive me hyung… H-How did you… do that… the magic thing… that day?" Taehyung asked, his voice filled with curiosity. “…..” Seokjin stopped instantly… he looked at Taehyung in the eye.. Like questioning ‘how dare you ask me my existence?’. "I'm s-sorry Jin Hyung.. If I overboard y-you. I….I couldn't f-forget it. For a while, I thought… I was c-crazy…. I never used that tuna-embedded token, thinking it was a scam. That's why I needed to find you so bad… to know if what I saw was real." Seokjin taken aback by the question. He took a deep breath, realizing that this was a crucial moment to build Taehyung's trust. "Taehyung, There is something I need to tell you.. First of all you are not crazy or hallucinating.. All you saw that day was true.. What I'm going to reveal you now, you can't tell this to anyone, not even your brother," Seokjin said seriously. Taehyung nodded, his expression earnest. "I promise, Jin hyung." Seokjin decided to tell him a partial truth. "I'm a phantom, Taehyung . I have some supernatural powers." Taehyung's face was a mixture of awe and confusion. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again, clearly trying to process the information. "A phantom?" Taehyung repeated slowly, his brow furrowed. "Like... a ghost or spirit?" Seokjin nodded, waiting patiently for Taehyung to grasp the concept. "But, Jin hyung, how is that even possible? You look so... normal. I mean, you eat, you cook, you have a brother. How can you be a phantom?" Taehyung's voice wavered with uncertainty, his mind racing to reconcile what he knew with what he had just learned.Seokjin smiled gently. "I know it's a lot to take in, Tae. But yes, phantoms can interact with the world just like humans. It's complicated, but it's true." Taehyung shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it. "This is so surreal. I don't know what to think, but I trust you, Jin hyung. Somehow, I know you're not lying." To prove his point, Seokjin performed a small piece of magic. He waved his hand, and a tiny, shimmering light appeared, dancing in the air between them before vanishing. Taehyung's mouth fell open in surprise, his hand covering his lips. "That was... incredible. So, does that mean Jungkook is also a phantom since he's your brother?" Seokjin shook his head. "No, no. Jungkook is human. We're not like blood-related, but I've taken care of him since childhood. He's like a brother to me." Taehyung looked relieved. "That makes sense. Thank you for trusting me with this, Jin hyung. I feel like I understand things a bit better now." Seokjin nodded, feeling a sense of accomplishment. He had successfully taken a step towards gaining Taehyung's trust, and now he needed to continue this path to uncover the deeper connection between them. The air was filled with the soothing scent of flowers, and the soft sound of leaves rustling in the breeze created a peaceful atmosphere around them. Taehyung found himself surprisingly at ease in Seokjin's presence. Despite the initial shock of learning about Seokjin's supernatural nature, he couldn't deny the genuine warmth and kindness he felt from Jin hyung. Seokjin casually performed small acts of magic, like causing a flower to bloom with a gentle touch or making a tiny flame dance on his fingertip. Each display fascinated Taehyung, who watched with wide eyes and a childlike wonder. Time seemed to slip away unnoticed as they wandered deeper into the garden. The sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the surroundings, yet neither Taehyung nor Seokjin paid much attention to the passage of time. They were engrossed in their conversation and the magical moments Seokjin shared. "Jin hyung, this place is like a hidden paradise," he remarked, his voice filled with awe. Seokjin chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ah, yes, Tae. They say this garden is my secret weapon against stress. It's my 'hedge' against the chaos of life." Taehyung burst into laughter at Seokjin's dad joke, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hyung, that's so bad, but I love it!" Taehyung exclaimed between giggles, shaking his head fondly. Seokjin grinned, pleased to see Taehyung's genuine enjoyment. "Well, Tae, you know what they say—laughter is the best fertilizer for the soul," Seokjin quipped, enjoying their lighthearted moment together. As Seokjin and Taehyung strolled through the serene garden, a sense of peace enveloped them. The flowers were in full bloom, and the gentle rustling of leaves added to the tranquility. Seokjin was about to share another story when the butler approached, his expression one of urgency. "Master Seokjin, Master Taehyung," the butler's voice broke through the calm, drawing their attention.Before Seokjin could fully process the interruption, he sensed a sudden presence. A handsome man, standing at a commanding six feet tall with a buzzcut that accentuated his tanned skin and sharp jawline, appeared. His dragon-like eyes scanned the scene, and when they locked onto Seokjin, everything else seemed to blur. Seokjin's world narrowed to just this man. The garden, the butler, even Taehyung—all faded into the background. He heard, almost as if from a distance, Taehyung's delighted voice. "Hyung!" Taehyung exclaimed, a smile spreading across his face as he moved towards the newcomer. Seokjin barely registered Taehyung's movements. His gaze remained fixed on the man, captivated by the powerful presence and the way those dragon eyes held an intensity that was both mesmerizing and intimidating. It was as if Seokjin was seeing through a haze, the details of the garden around him softening and fading away. The man's voice, though muffled in Seokjin's dazed state, reached him like a distant echo. "Tae, I've been trying to reach you. I was worried sick." Taehyung's response, "I'm sorry, Hyung," was filled with warmth and familiarity, but Seokjin could only focus on the way the man's lips moved, the concern in his eyes, the strength in his posture. Seokjin felt a strange mix of awe and disbelief, as if this moment was unreal, like he was dreaming. His heart pounded in his chest, and he could barely breathe. The newcomer's presence was overwhelming, pulling Seokjin into a vortex of emotions and thoughts he couldn't fully comprehend. Seokjin's daze was abruptly interrupted when Taehyung turned to him and introduced the man standing before them. "Hyung, this is my brother, Kim Namjoon." Seokjin snapped back to reality, his vision clearing as he focused on Namjoon's piercing dragon-like eyes. The intensity in those eyes held him captive, making it difficult to look away. Without thinking, Seokjin instinctively stretched out his hand, and Namjoon took it, his long, firm fingers wrapping gently around Seokjin's. An electric spark shot through Seokjin's body at the contact, leaving him momentarily breathless. "Hello, Namjoon-ssi," he managed to say, his voice slightly dreamy. "Taehyung talks about you all the time." The man nodded, his cold glare seemingly ignoring Seokjin's warm welcome. "Let's go, Tae. It's almost evening," Namjoon said, his voice firm and commanding. Taehyung turned to Seokjin with an apologetic smile. "Thank you for the wonderful time, Jin hyung. I'll see you soon, okay?" Seokjin forced a smile, his heart sinking as Namjoon continued to disregard his presence. "Of course, Tae. Take care," he replied, trying to mask his disappointment. Namjoon wrapped a protective arm around Taehyung's shoulder, guiding him towards a sleek, new model Mercedes-Benz S-Class parked nearby. Taehyung glanced back at Seokjin, his eyes full of gratitude and warmth. "I had a great time, hyung. Really," Taehyung said earnestly as he approached the car. Seokjin nodded, feeling a pang of sadness as Taehyung opened the car door. "I'm glad, Tae. We'll do it again soon," he said softly. As Taehyung settled into the passenger seat, he waved cheerfully at Seokjin. But before Seokjin could wave back, Namjoon revved the engine and the car sped off, its tires kicking up a spray of gravel. Seokjin stood there, watching as the vehicle vanished down the winding road, flanked by towering trees. The butler, who had been watching from a distance, approached Seokjin with a concerned look. "Master Seokjin, is everything all right?" Seokjin sighed, his mind buzzing with questions and emotions. "I don't know, Soobin. Something about that man... I can't quite place it." Soobin nodded knowingly. "Mr. Kim Namjoon has a formidable presence, sir. But I'm sure everything will be fine." Seokjin nodded absently, his thoughts returning to Namjoon's cold demeanor. He couldn't shake the feeling of heartbreak, not just from Namjoon's dismissal, but from the lingering question that gnawed at his mind: How did he manage to come to my manor? It's not that his monar is hidden but still he had crafted a spell that when strangers comes they always lost the way out, and yet he arrived here so effortlessly. Lost in thought, Seokjin turned and walked back towards the manor, the evening shadows stretching long across the garden. He glanced back once more, the fading light casting an ethereal glow on the path where Namjoon's car had disappeared. A chill ran down his spine as he wondered about the man who had just upended his world in a matter of moments. As Seokjin reached the entrance, he turned to address the butler, but "Soobin" was no longer there. Instead, a crow sat perched on the stone railing, its beady eyes watching him intently. With a ruffle of its feathers, the crow took flight, disappearing into the twilight sky. Seokjin smirked to himself, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. There were no butlers. The ruse had been necessary to keep Taehyung from becoming suspicious. He shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he entered the manor. The game had only just begun, and he needed to be prepared for whatever came next.
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As Namjoon drove, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, barely registering the scenery flashing past the windows. The familiar streets of Seoul blurred into an indistinct haze as his thoughts fixated on one overwhelming question: how could this be happening? Just a week ago, he had come across an old painting of the deceased King Kim Seokjin while researching at the national archives. The resemblance between the ancient king and the man he had just met was uncanny—down to the last detail. Namjoon shook his head slightly, trying to clear his mind. It had to be a coincidence, didn't it? Glancing at Taehyung, who was sitting beside him, happily chatting about his visit, Namjoon felt a pang of guilt. He couldn't share this with his brother, not yet. Taehyung had been so excited to meet Seokjin, and Namjoon didn't want to cloud his joy with these strange, unsettling thoughts. "I can't believe I finally met him, hyung," Taehyung was saying, his face glowing with enthusiasm. "Seokjin-ssi is even more amazing than I imagined. And his cooking! You have to try it sometime." Namjoon forced a smile, trying to focus on Taehyung's words. "Yeah, maybe one day. I'm glad you had a good time." But as Taehyung continued to recount his day, Namjoon's mind drifted back to the painting. He couldn't ignore the chilling similarity. And to make this more difficult both of their name is Kim Seokjin. He had to know more. "I need to get home and continue my research," he thought, gripping the steering wheel tighter. There was no way he could reveal any of this to Taehyung until he had concrete answers. For now, he'd keep it to himself and delve deeper into the archives, the old texts, and any other resources he could find. The car turned onto their street, and Namjoon took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease. He needed to stay focused. He needed answers. Until then, he'd keep Taehyung in the dark and protect him from any possible danger. "You're awfully quiet, hyung," Taehyung noted, glancing at Namjoon with a hint of concern. "Just thinking about some work stuff," Namjoon lied smoothly. "But don't worry about me. Let's get home and have that dinner I promised." Taehyung smiled… "Hyung, how did you find the manor? Even though I shared the location, I'm pretty sure it’s hidden in the middle of nowhere." Namjoon kept his eyes on the road, the corners of his mouth tightening slightly. "When I came home and noticed you still hadn't arrived, I called you, but you didn't pick up. I got nervous and decided to drive there myself. Halfway, I found Hobi and he got into the car. He said he knew Kim Seokjin's home and showed me the way. "Hobi hyung came?" Taehyung asked, his eyes widening in surprise. "Yes," Namjoon nodded. "But near the manor, he got off, saying he had some other stuff to take care of. I didn't have time to tell him to wait until I came back because I was in such a hurry to find you." Taehyung nodded slowly, digesting this information. After a few moments of silence, he glanced sideways at Namjoon, a hint of reproach in his eyes. "Hyung…. Don't think I didn't notice how cold-shouldered you were to Jin hyung." Namjoon sighed, gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter. "Tae, it's not that I dislike him. It’s just...complicated." Taehyung raised an eyebrow. "Complicated how? Jin hyung was nothing but kind and welcoming. Plus, he’s Jungkook’s brother. You know Jungkook, don't you.. The CEO?" Namjoon took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "It’s not about trust. There are things about Seokjin-ssi that don’t quite add up. I’m just being cautious, Tae. I don’t want you to get hurt." Taehyung's face softened, a small smile playing on his lips. "I appreciate your concern, hyung, but I think Jin hyung is someone we can trust. He went out of his way to make sure I was comfortable. He even cooked my favorite meal." Namjoon glanced at Taehyung, his expression softening. "I know, Tae. But as your older brother, it’s my job to protect you. Just...promise me you'll be careful, okay?" Taehyung nodded, his smile widening. "I promise, hyung. But you have to give Jin hyung a chance too." Namjoon sighed again, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Alright, Tae. I'll try." After a brief pause, Namjoon’s brow furrowed as he remembered something. "What about his witchcraft that day? Did you get your answers?" Taehyung's smile faltered for a split second, guilt creeping into his eyes. He had promised Seokjin not to reveal his true identity to anyone, including Namjoon. "Sort of," he replied, trying to sound casual. "Jin hyung explained some things, but I think there's still more to understand. He assured me that what happened wasn't dangerous." Namjoon glanced at Taehyung, his worry evident. "You're sure? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, right?" Taehyung shook his head, forcing a reassuring smile. "I promise, hyung. Maybe I was little bit hallucinating that day.. Soo you have nothing to worry about anymore..." Namjoon studied Taehyung for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, Tae. But if you ever feel uneasy, you tell me immediately, okay?" "I will, hyung," Taehyung said, feeling a pang of guilt for not telling the full truth. But he knew he had to keep his promise to Seokjin. ********************************************************************* Taehyung lay sprawled on his bed, the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains. His room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the AC. But Taehyung’s mind was far from peaceful.
Jungkook.
His thoughts kept circling back to him, no matter how much he tried to distract himself. The way Jungkook barely looked at him, the way he seemed distant and closed off—it was frustrating. But underneath that cold exterior, Taehyung could sense something else, something deeper. He just needed a chance to break through. He sighed, rolling onto his back, his arm draped over his forehead. A small smile tugged at his lips as he pictured Jungkook's sharp eyes and confident posture. Taehyung chuckled to himself, embarrassed at how easily his heart raced just thinking about him. I should try to get closer to him, Taehyung thought. Sitting up suddenly, an idea sparked in his mind. I should call Jimin. He fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, his fingers moving quickly as he dialed Jimin’s number.The phone rang twice before Jimin’s familiar voice answered. “Yah, Taehyung-ah! Why are you calling so late? Did you miss me that much?” Jimin teased, his voice light with amusement. Taehyung grinned, immediately jumping to the point. “Jimin-ah, I need a favor.” There was a beat of silence on the other end. “Okay, this sounds serious. What is it?”Taehyung hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit shy now that he was about to ask. But he pushed forward anyway. “Can you give me Jungkook’s number?” Jimin’s laughter burst through the phone, catching Taehyung off guard. “Wait, wait… hold on. You want what?” “Yah! I’m serious!” Taehyung groaned, flopping back onto his bed, one hand covering his face in embarrassment. “Come on, Jimin-ah. Help me out.” “Oh, this is too good,” Jimin said, still laughing. “You really want Jungkook’s number? Jungkook’s number? I never thought I'd see the day when you would be asking me for someone’s number.” Taehyung groaned louder, his cheeks flushing red even though Jimin couldn’t see him. “I know, I know. Just… don’t make this weird.” Jimin’s teasing tone didn’t falter. “But it’s Jungkook! The guy who barely talks to anyone outside of work? I didn’t know you were interested.” Taehyung rolled his eyes, though a smile was tugging at his lips. “I’m not interested like that. I just… I don’t know, Jimin. He seems different. I want to get to know him better.”“Uh-huh, sure,” Jimin replied, clearly unconvinced. “You’re just dying to ‘get to know him better.’ It’s not like you’re lying in bed right now, thinking about him or anything, right?”Taehyung blushed harder, thankful Jimin couldn’t see the way his face flushed. “Shut up! I’m not lying in bed thinking about him!” “Sure, sure,” Jimin teased, a smirk evident in his tone. “And I’m a world-renowned chef.” “Jimin, please!” Taehyung whined, sitting up again, his patience wearing thin. “Just give me his number. Please? You owe me for all the times I’ve covered for you.” There was a pause on the other end, and Taehyung could almost imagine Jimin weighing his options, dragging this out just to mess with him.Finally, Jimin sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. I’ll text you his number, but only because I’m such a good friend. And don’t say I never do anything for you.”Taehyung grinned triumphantly. “Thank you! I’ll owe you one.” “Oh, you definitely will,” Jimin replied, his voice full of mischief. “Now, go ahead and woo Jungkook with your charm. But don’t be surprised if he still acts cold. You know how he is.” “I’ll take my chances,” Taehyung said, already feeling a rush of excitement at the thought of texting Jungkook. After ending the call, Taehyung checked his messages, and sure enough, there was Jungkook’s number sitting in his inbox. His heart thudded in his chest as he stared at the digits, wondering what exactly he was going to say. He laid back down on his bed, holding his phone above him, his mind racing. What should I text him? He didn’t want to come off too strong, but he also didn’t want to seem disinterested. The thought of Jungkook’s serious expression made him smile.Taehyung opened the message app and began typing.
Taehyung:
Hey, Jungkook! It’s Taehyung. Jimin gave me your number.
He stared at the message for a moment, then frowned. It sounded too formal, too simple. This won’t work, he thought, quickly deleting the text.He tried again.
Taehyung:
Yo, Jungkook! Wanna hang out sometime?
Taehyung grimaced and deleted the message again, muttering to himself. “Why is this so hard?” He threw his arm over his face, sighing deeply.
What do I even say to someone like him?
He typed again, hoping for something more casual.
Taehyung:
Hey, Kook! What’s up?
Taehyung stared at the screen, groaning. Too friendly. He deleted it again, feeling the frustration build.Seconds turned into minutes as he kept typing and erasing, second-guessing every word. Finally, with a mix of annoyance and impatience, he typed something without overthinking.
Taehyung:
If you were a fruit, you’d be a fineapple.
He froze, his eyes widening in horror as he realized what he had just written.Oh no... that’s so cringy. He immediately tried to delete the message, but his fingers fumbled—and before he could stop it, his thumb hit "send." The message flew off into the digital void. Taehyung’s eyes went wide with panic as he stared at the sent message.What have I done?! He screamed internally, throwing his phone down on the bed and covering his face with both hands, feeling the full force of embarrassment wash over him.
Fuckk!!Fuckk!!! He will think I’m a weirdo…Shit..This is the consequences of hanging out with Jin hyung lately…
He peeked through his fingers, staring at the phone like it was a ticking time bomb, waiting for Jungkook’s inevitable response. *************************************************************************** The room was filled with breathy moans and the occasional rustle of sheets. Seokjin’s body moved over Jungkook’s with purpose, each thrust slow and deep. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows on their skin, illuminating the heat that radiated between them. Seokjin’s grip on Jungkook’s hips was firm, his body pressing closer as the tension in the air thickened. His breath was ragged, coming out in short bursts as his movements quickened. Jungkook, lost in the sensation, arched his back, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him. The feeling of Seokjin’s strength, the rhythm of their connection, was overwhelming. There was a shared understanding between them—one built over years of unspoken desire and complicated emotions. Jungkook had always been drawn to Seokjin, captivated by his presence, by the way he seemed to carry an unshakeable confidence. And now, in this moment, the thick cock deeply buried in his ass, Jungkook could feel every inch of that confidence—every emotion coursing through him. Seokjin’s movements became more erratic as the pressure between them reached its peak. A final, deep thrust, and Seokjin’s body stilled as he released, a low groan escaping his lips. The warmth of his release filled Jungkook, who shuddered beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensation. For a few moments, the world stood still. Seokjin collapsed beside Jungkook, both of them panting, bodies glistening with sweat and cum as they tried to catch their breath. Jungkook closed his eyes, still savoring the high of their orgasm, his mind foggy with satisfaction.And then, the silence was broken. A loud beep echoed in the room, drawing their attention toward the bedside table where Jungkook’s phone sat. The sharp sound cut through the haze of the moment, bringing them both back to reality. Seokjin, still panting, glanced at the phone with a raised brow. “Kook-ah...” he murmured, his voice still rough from exertion. “Who’s messaging you this late?” Jungkook, still lying on the bed, dazed and lost in the afterglow, groaned in response. His body was heavy, muscles still tingling from the release. “Hyung... just check it for me,” he mumbled, his voice breathy, barely coherent. Seokjin smirked, amused by Jungkook’s laziness. He reached over, grabbing the phone with ease. “Alright, alright,” he teased, unlocking the device with a practiced swipe. His eyes scanned the screen, and the moment he read the message, his lips curved into a grin, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Oh, this is good,” Seokjin chuckled, holding the phone out in front of him. “‘If you were a fruit, you’d be a fineapple.’” He barely managed to get the words out before laughter bubbled up in his chest.Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, the grogginess evaporating as he processed what Seokjin had just said. “Wait, what?” he hissed, pushing himself up on his elbows despite the soreness in his body. He reached for the phone, his cheeks already flushing with a mix of embarrassment and confusion. Seokjin, still chuckling, handed him the phone, shaking his head. “Looks like someone’s got a secret admirer,” he teased, his voice full of playful mischief. “And they’ve got some serious pickup lines.” Jungkook’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he read the message himself. His heart raced for reasons completely different from before. “What the—” Jungkook started, but the words caught in his throat. He quickly typed a response, his fingers moving with irritation.
Jungkook:
Who is this?
It didn’t take long for the reply to come in.
Taehyung:
Sorry about the text earlier. It’s Taehyung. Got your number from Jimin.
Jungkook’s jaw tightened, and before he could stop himself, he read the name aloud in disbelief. “Taehyung?!” Taehyung. Of all people, it was Taehyung sending him a cringy, flirty text in the middle of the night. Seokjin burst into laughter again, rolling over onto his back as he watched Jungkook’s reaction. “Oh, come on, Kook-ah,” he said, giving Jungkook a playful smack on the butt. “That guy was totally eye-fucking you at the party. All the best to you!” Seokjin teased, his voice light and amused. Jungkook’s face was still flushed, but now there was a mix of anger and embarrassment. He couldn’t believe Seokjin wasn’t taking this seriously. Someone else—Taehyung—was flirting with him, and Seokjin just laughed it off like it was no big deal. Seokjin pushed himself off the bed, still smirking as he made his way to the bathroom. “Looks like you’ve got a fan, Kook. Don’t let him down.” Jungkook watched Seokjin go, his frustration growing with every step the older man took. It wasn’t just the fact that Taehyung had sent him a flirty message. It was the way Seokjin didn’t seem to care at all. The playful teasing stung more than it should have. Jungkook had been by Seokjin’s side for months, had given everything to him, but it was starting to feel like Seokjin didn’t even see him—didn’t care enough to take someone else’s attention seriously. He stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip, unsure of what to do next. Another chime pulled him from his thoughts.
Taehyung:
Is it okay if we meet tomorrow morning for a coffee?
Jungkook’s fingers hovered over the screen as he read the message, his mind racing. He glanced toward the bathroom door, half-expecting Seokjin to walk out, but the door remained closed. He knew Seokjin wasn’t coming back to discuss this. He wasn’t going to get jealous. He wasn’t going to chase after him. And that realization cut deep. For the first time, a plan formed in Jungkook’s mind. Maybe, if he entertained Taehyung’s attention—if he agreed to meet him—Seokjin might finally care. Maybe it would be enough to make Seokjin jealous, to make him realize what he was losing.
Maybe... maybe this will make hyung want me.
Without thinking further, Jungkook typed a response.
Jungkook:
Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow.
He set the phone down, feeling a mixture of nervousness and satisfaction. Maybe this was the push Seokjin needed. Maybe this would finally make him see that Jungkook wasn’t going to wait forever. With a heavy sigh, Jungkook leaned back against the pillows, his mind swirling with thoughts of Taehyung and Seokjin. *************************************************************************** The bathroom was foggy, the misty air contrasting with the heat that still radiated from Seokjin’s body. He stood under the showerhead, letting the hot water cascade over him, hoping to wash away not only the sweat and the cum of his time with Jungkook, but also the thoughts that had been swirling in his mind for hours. Namjoon. He didn’t understand it—this feeling that clung to him, even though moments ago he was with Jungkook. His body had moved with someone else, but all he could think about was Namjoon. The way Namjoon had looked at him earlier, his gaze sharp and cold, those dragon-like eyes holding Seokjin captive without even needing to say a word. The memory of their encounter at the garden replayed over and over in his mind. Why does he have such an effect on me? Seokjin wondered, pressing his palms against the cool tiles as the water continued to spray against his skin. As he wiped the sweat from his brow, his hands drifted lower, brushing against his chest, feeling the remnants of his earlier release with Jungkook. But the touch, the warmth, it wasn’t Jungkook’s that lingered in his mind. It was Namjoon’s. The way his long fingers had gripped Taehyung’s wrist protectively, the strength behind those hands. Even now, in this quiet moment, Seokjin could feel the ghost of Namjoon’s touch. Before he could stop himself, his hand drifted lower, his fingers brushing the curve of his lower back. His breath hitched as he imagined those fingers belonging to someone else—someone with a cold, commanding gaze. He leaned forward, his forehead resting against the tile as his hand moved in slow circles, his middle finger grazing the sensitive puckered skin. His mind wandered, imagining it was Namjoon standing behind him, his presence dominating the space. Seokjin’s breath quickened, his body reacting to the fantasy he tried so hard to suppress. The water continued to rush down over him, masking the soft sounds that escaped his lips. Namjoon... The name echoed in his mind like a chant, and before he realized it, his body responded to the image of Namjoon standing over him, eyes dark with an intensity that made Seokjin weak. With a shudder, he pressed his two fingers inside his hole, pretending it was Namjoon’s massive cock entering his. He thrust the fingers up and down, but with a different rhythm he had fucked Jungkook..The feeling was overwhelming, and soon, Seokjin's body trembled, a wave of pleasure washing over him. His hand fell away as he leaned heavily against the wall, his chest heaving. He was grateful for the sound of the shower, thankful that it masked the lewd sounds he had been making. He could still feel the name—Namjoon—lingering on his tongue like a mantra, repeating in his mind until he couldn't think straight. His body sagged against the wall, spent for the second time that night, this time with someone else’s name on his lips. He let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. Seokjin didn’t know what to make of this. Namjoon was an enigma, a constant pull in his chest that he didn’t understand, and it left him feeling conflicted, even after finding release. He wanted to see Namjoon again… Seokjin quickly washed himself, trying to clear his mind of the lingering thoughts. As he toweled off and stepped out of the shower, he took a deep breath, steadying himself before heading back to the bedroom. When entered the bedroom, his eyes immediately landed on Jungkook, who was leaned back against the pillows, his gaze distant, as if he was lost in thought.Seokjin could sense a shift in Jungkook’s demeanor. Jungkook glanced up as Seokjin approached, his voice breaking the silence. “Hyung,” he said quietly, “can you drive me to the Moonlight café tomorrow morning? I have a date with Taehyung at 10, and... I’m too tired to drive.” Seokjin blinked, slightly taken aback by the request, but he quickly smiled, genuinely happy for his little Dongsaeng “A date with Taehyung?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. “That’s great, Kook-ah. I’m happy for you.” Jungkook’s face was unreadable, but he nodded, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, thanks. I... I figured it was time to try something new.” Seokjin, completely unaware of the turmoil going on inside Jungkook’s head, smiled warmly. “Of course, I’ll take you. It’s about time someone broke the spell you've been under,” he said with a teasing grin, playfully nudging Jungkook’s arm. “Taehyung seems like a nice guy.” Jungkook forced a small smile, though inside, his thoughts were racing. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t care. Seokjin’s casual acceptance of the situation only made Jungkook’s resolve stronger. He had hoped for even a flicker of jealousy, but Seokjin’s genuine happiness for him felt like a knife twisting in his chest.As Seokjin climbed into bed, his mind already settling into the idea of sleep, Jungkook watched him, his heart heavy. He waited for the sound of Seokjin’s breathing to even out, signaling that he had fallen asleep. But Jungkook couldn’t find the same peace. His eyes remained fixed on Seokjin’s sleeping figure, his chest tight with a mix of anger, sadness, and longing.For years, Jungkook had devoted himself to Seokjin, never looking at anyone else, never even considering another person. And yet, here he was, planning to meet Taehyung, hoping that maybe—just maybe—this would be the thing that made Seokjin realize how much he meant to him. ************************************************************************** The sun had begun to filter through the curtains when Namjoon sat at the dining table, sipping his morning tea, a research paper spread out before him. The familiar scent of black tea with a hint of jasmine filled the air as he took another sip, his eyes moving over the text with quiet concentration. The room was calm, the early hours still holding onto their peaceful silence. That silence was broken by the sound of footsteps from the hallway. Namjoon didn’t look up at first, assuming it was just Taehyung groggily making his way to the kitchen for coffee. But when he heard the faint clink of shoes and the unmistakable swish of neatly pressed fabric, his curiosity got the better of him.He glanced up, and his eyes widened in surprise. Taehyung stood at the door to the kitchen, fully dressed in a casual yet fashionable outfit. He wore fitted slacks, a light beige turtleneck, and a stylish, unstructured blazer. His hair was perfectly tousled, giving him an effortlessly put-together look. Namjoon raised an eyebrow and let out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Well, someone’s looking sharp this morning,” Namjoon teased, his amusement clear in his tone. “What’s the occasion? You don’t usually get this dressed up for breakfast.” Taehyung, adjusting his blazer, gave a playful grin. “I have a date.” Namjoon blinked in surprise, setting down his cup. “A date?” His protective instincts immediately kicked in. “With who?” “Jungkook,” Taehyung answered casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Namjoon shot up from his chair, his usual calm demeanor replaced by the overprotective brother mode he was infamous for. “Okay, let’s go.” Taehyung, confused, tilted his head. “What? Where are you going?” “I want to see this Jungkook guy,” Namjoon said firmly, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. “Make sure he’s good enough for you.” Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Hyungggg, I’m not a little girl you have to protect. It’s just coffee. What could he possibly do to me?”Namjoon, already putting on his coat, ignored Taehyung’s protests. “You never know. I want to make sure he’s not a total weirdo.” “He’s not!” Taehyung whined, following Namjoon as he headed to the door. “You can’t third-wheel my date, hyung. It’s embarrassing.”Namjoon shot him a knowing look. “If it’s embarrassing for you, I’ll take that as a good sign. Means you care.” “I’ll third-wheel your dates when you find someone,” Taehyung muttered as they stepped out of the apartment. “I’ll make sure to be as annoying as possible.”Namjoon chuckled, pulling out his car keys. “Good luck with that. If I ever find someone, they’ll have to survive you first.” Taehyung rolled his eyes, though a smile played on his lips as they both slid into Namjoon’s car. The bickering continued as they drove to the coffee shop, Taehyung throwing playful threats about ruining all of Namjoon’s future dates, while Namjoon casually ignored him, humming to himself as they approached their destination. Namjoon parked his sleek black sedan in the café’s lot, the engine purring to a stop as he turned off the ignition. As both of them stepped out of the car, Namjoon spotted a silver sports car pulling into a space not too far from him. The car door swung open, and Seokjin emerged with an elegant grace that made heads turn. Despite the casual setting, he carried himself with a regal air that was impossible to ignore. Jungkook followed close behind like a kid summon into principal office with his father.. Seokjin walked with his usual grace, effortlessly commanding attention without even trying. Jungkook was dressed casually, in a simple black button-up and fitted jeans, his hair styled neatly. But it was Seokjin who caught Namjoon’s eye. He wore a cream-colored coat over a black turtleneck, the fabric hugging his lean frame in all the right places. His hair, slightly tousled from the breeze, gave him a look that was both refined and effortlessly handsome. Namjoon felt his breath catch for a moment, his eyes lingering on Seokjin longer than they should have. The way the coat flared slightly as Seokjin walked, the confident yet graceful way he moved—it was hard not to be captivated. “Well, well, look who’s here,” Seokjin greeted, grinning as they came to a stop in front of them. “Hyung,” Taehyung greeted Seokjin with a polite nod, though there was a hint of surprise in his eyes at seeing him there. His gaze quickly shifted to Jungkook, a mix of nervousness and curiosity flickering across his face. Seokjin, ever observant, raised an eyebrow as he noticed Namjoon’s lingering gaze. “Good morning, Namjoon-ssi,” Seokjin greeted warmly, his smile easy and charming. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” Namjoon cleared his throat, his usual composed demeanor returning. “I thought I’d tag along. You know, just to make sure my brother doesn’t get himself into trouble.” Taehyung shot Namjoon an exasperated look. “Hyung, you’re acting like I’m twelve.”Seokjin chuckled softly, casting a knowing glance at Jungkook. “Looks like you’ve got some protective company this morning.” Jungkook, still a little flustered, nodded. “Yeah, something like that.”Namjoon’s eyes shifted to Seokjin again, unable to ignore the way the older man’s presence seemed to draw him in. There was something about Seokjin—something more than just his looks—that Namjoon couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was like Seokjin carried an air of mystery, and Namjoon found himself intrigued. Seokjin, sensing the slight tension, smiled at Namjoon. “Shall we let them go, Namjoon-ssi?” he asked, gesturing toward the café. “We wouldn’t want to ruin their first date, after all.” Namjoon blinked, surprised by how smoothly Seokjin suggested they leave. Before he could respond, Seokjin’s gaze softened, his tone turning almost playful. “Besides, it looks like Jungkook and Taehyung have some catching up to do.”Jungkook turned a deep shade of red as Taehyung grinned, clearly enjoying the attention. Namjoon, though reluctant to leave Taehyung alone with Jungkook, found himself nodding. “Yeah, you’re right,” Namjoon admitted, albeit reluctantly. “We’ll give them some space.” Both of them were watching Taehyung and Jungkook disappear into the café when Seokjin shifted awkwardly beside Namjoon, glancing at him with a hesitant expression. Namjoon raised an eyebrow, sensing something was on Seokjin’s mind. “If… if you’re not busy, Namjoon-ssi,” Seokjin began, his voice slightly shaky. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his usual composure, “I... um, was planning to watch the new The Conjuring movie, and... well, I thought... maybe... you wouldn’t mind joining me? I—uh, I’d rather not watch it alone.” Namjoon blinked, momentarily taken aback by the offer. Seokjin was always so composed, so sure of himself, yet here he was, stumbling over his words. There was something almost vulnerable in the way Seokjin stood there, waiting for his answer. A small smile tugged at Namjoon’s lips. This could be my chance, he thought. Seokjin, for all his guarded demeanor and sharp wit, rarely let anyone get close. Maybe this was an opportunity to finally see behind the mask. “Sure,” Namjoon said, his voice gentle but eager, “I’d like that.” Seokjin’s eyes flickered with relief, and the tension in his shoulders visibly eased as he nodded. “Great! Um… the movie starts at 11.05.” Namjoon glanced at his watch and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, that gives us more than 45 minutes,” he said thoughtfully. “Shall we grab something to eat before the movie?” Seokjin smiled, clearly satisfied with Namjoon’s suggestion. “That sounds good,” he said, his voice steadier now. “I could go for something light.” With that, Seokjin turned toward the parking lot. “We can take my car. Taehyung might use yours if Kook doesn’t come back with him after their date.” “Yeah, that works for me,” Stealing a quick glance at Seokjin, Namjoon found himself drawn in even more. There was something disarming about the pretty man who seemed so distant, so untouchable. It was like Seokjin was inviting him, in the smallest way, to know him beyond the surface. As the car pulled out of the parking lot, the quiet hum of the engine filled the air, and an unspoken anticipation settled between them. Namjoon could feel it—this was the beginning of something. Maybe he could see the real Seokjin, the person behind the carefully crafted mask.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Namjoon and Seokjin found themselves at a cozy table on the 7th floor of Havelock City Mall, with a stunning morning view of the sky. The sun was climbing higher, casting a soft, golden hue over the city, while the light breeze through the open balcony made everything feel calm. As they both glanced at the menus, Namjoon broke the silence. “So... you only eat seafood, right?” “Ah, yeah, Sorry if that disappointed you.” Namjoon immediately waved his hand, a small smile playing on his lips. “No, no, it’s totally okay. Actually, I’m not a big fan of seafood. So… I’ll go with meat,” he said reassuringly. They placed their orders. Namjoon chose a grilled beef steak with roasted vegetables, while Seokjin opted for Grilled Octopus. As they waited for their food, Namjoon leaned back slightly, watching the sky outside. The soft clouds floated lazily above, and the view was breathtaking. When their dishes arrived, they both started eating, the quiet between them now comfortable. Namjoon noticed something that made him smile—a small detail that brought a warmth to his chest. As Seokjin ate, his cheeks puffed out slightly, making him look like a cute chipmunk. Namjoon couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, finding the sight endearing. Seokjin, noticing Namjoon’s soft laughter, raised an eyebrow, his eyes questioning. “What is it?” he asked, a hint of playfulness in his tone.Namjoon shrugged, his smile growing wider. “You look like a chipmunk when you eat,” he teased lightly. Seokjin blinked in surprise before puffing his cheeks even more in mock indignation. “A very handsome chipmunk, I hope,” he retorted, his lips curling into a grin.Namjoon laughed, nodding in agreement. “Of course.” After a pause, Namjoon leaned in slightly. “Taehyung told me you cooked for him when he was there…” Seokjin nodded, smiling warmly. “Ahh, yes. I love to cook. But funnily enough, I rarely eat what I make—unless it’s seafood. I’m a picky eater,” he confessed with a chuckle. “What else did Tae tell you about me?” Seokjin asked, his curiosity piqued, and he leaned forward, his smile teasing. Namjoon grinned, thinking back to his conversation with Taehyung. “He mentioned how you took care of him when he’s over at your place, like making sure he eats well. He really looks up to you, you know. Said you’re always fussing over him like a big brother.” Seokjin’s smile softened at the mention of Taehyung. “Tae’s a good kid. A bit dramatic sometimes, but he means well.” He chuckled before adding, “And speaking of brothers, I can’t help but feel like he and Jungkook are a perfect match.” “ Actually Seokjin-ssi…Jungkook’s a little more reserved, right? What’s he like?” Seokjin’s face brightened as he spoke about Jungkook. “Oh, Jungkook’s a great lad. He’s hardworking, incredibly loyal. Tae’s in good hands with him.” He paused, then smiled fondly. “Is he your brother?” “He’s not my biological brother. But since he was little, he’s always been with me. It feels like he’s family.” Namjoon’s curiosity was piqued. “Really? What was he like as a kid?”Seokjin’s smile grew wider, his eyes sparkling with fond memories. “He was adorable. A bit shy, but always curious. There was this one time when he was around five—he tried to cook rice on his own, and instead of water, he added milk. The whole kitchen was a mess,” Seokjin chuckled, shaking his head. “He’s grown up a lot since then, but he still has that same innocent energy.” Namjoon laughed at the image of a young Jungkook causing chaos in the kitchen. “Sounds like he was a handful.” Seokjin nodded. “Definitely. But he’s grown into a strong, dependable man. I’m proud of him.” There was a fondness in Seokjin’s voice that made Namjoon feel ease. The moment passed easily, but Namjoon was curious to know more about Seokjin. He set his chopsticks down. “So, what do you do for a living?” Seokjin’s cheerful demeanor faltered for a moment, clearly not expecting the question. In his surprise, he choked slightly on his food, coughing into his hand.Namjoon quickly reacted, handing him a glass of water “Hey, you okay? Drink this…slowly..slow….” He patted Seokjin’s back gently. “Thanks Namjoon-ssi.. I’m okay now…” “Sorry for asking... if it’s something you don’t want to talk about, that’s fine. I just... wanted to know you better.” Seokjin waved off the concern after taking a sip of water. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just... not used to talking about myself. But,” he hesitated for a beat before continuing, “I’m the owner of Jin Corporation.” Namjoon’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “Oh, so you’re a business tycoon?” Seokjin chuckled awkwardly, shaking his head. “Not really. All the business stuff is handled by Jungkook. He’s the CEO. I’m not very interested in it, to be honest. I just take the profits.” He laughed nervously, hoping Namjoon wouldn’t pry too much deeper. The last thing he wanted was for Namjoon to find out about is—that he was actually a 400-year-old phantom. He needed to change the subject quickly. “So, Namjoon-ssi… I got to know from Tae that you’re a professor at SNU. That’s pretty impressive,” he remarked, genuine curiosity in his voice. “What are your hobbies outside of work?” Namjoon’s eyes lit up with excitement, any doubt regarding Jin fading away. “Bonsai trees! I have a few at home—Ori, Cherry, Jjin Jjin, and Apricot Baby. They’re like my little babies.” Seokjin’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. “Wow, Namjoon-ssi, you’re a real father, you even named them” he teased, a small laugh escaping his lips.Namjoon chuckled, looking a little bashful. “Yeah, I guess I am. They’re just... calming, you know?” As they continued eating, Namjoon started talking about his fondness for crabs—how he made friends with them at the beach, which was why he couldn’t bring himself to eat seafood. Seokjin laughed at Namjoon’s unique reasoning, enjoying how natural their conversation had become. It felt light and easy, like they were two old friends catching up after a long time. Seokjin, in turn, shared a few of his dad jokes, which earned groans and laughter from Namjoon. The atmosphere between them had relaxed entirely, the earlier tension forgotten. When their plates were finally empty, Namjoon glanced at his watch. “Oh, we should head to the movie. It’s almost time.” Seokjin gulped nervously. He hadn’t actually planned on watching the movie—it was a spur-of-the-moment suggestion earlier, just so he could spend more time with Namjoon. He hated horror movies, and the title had come from Jungkook, the ever brave boy, who had wanted to see it. But now, he had to act along. Namjoon stood up and helped Seokjin from his seat. As their hands touched, Namjoon noticed how cold Seokjin’s were and instinctively squeezed them gently, feeling the soft flesh under his grip. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of warmth. Nervously smiling, Seokjin waved his head… “Your hand’s cold,” Namjoon, gently rubbed Seokjin’s hand as they walked toward the escalators. “That’s how they normally are...” Seokjin bit his lip but managed to smile since he can’t say actually I’m a dead person only my heart is working no blood pumping.. They made their way to the cinema hall on the next floor. Seokjin offered to buy the tickets since it had been his suggestion, but Namjoon insisted on paying. “You can get the next one,” Namjoon said with a grin. Seokjin’s face flushed, his eartips turning red. Next time? His heart skipped a beat at the thought of Namjoon already planning for another outing together.He snapped back to reality when Namjoon handed him his favorite—cheese popcorn and a large Pepsi. Seokjin blinked, surprised that how Namjoon guessed what he liked. They entered the cinema and found their seats in the middle of the theater. As Seokjin sat down, he noticed a couple seated nearby, looking cozy and comfortable with each other. Without really thinking, Seokjin wrapped his arm around Namjoon’s, leaning in slightly. He wanted to forget for a moment that he is a dead man resurrected by god of fate and enjoy it as an actual human..Once Taehyung pulled out the sword, he won’t be able to sit next to Namjoon…So.. Seokjin embraced the warmth.. Namjoon felt the coldness of Seokjin’s body slowly warming against his own, and he chuckled internally. He didn’t say anything, though, letting Seokjin get comfortable. As the lights dimmed and the previews began to roll, Seokjin tried to calm his nerves, knowing that despite his dislike for horror movies, he would rather face this fear than miss a chance to be close to Namjoon. ********************************************************************** Jungkook’s mind still on Namjoon and Seokjin driving off together. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, They were heading somewhere together, but why? And why was Namjoon with Seokjin? but before he could dwell on it further, Taehyung’s voice brought him back to the present. “Jungkook?” Taehyung’s eyes sparkled with excitement, unaware of the inner turmoil Jungkook was battling. “What do you want to order? They have the best pastries here! Oh, the lemon cheesecake is to die for!” Jungkook forced a smile, trying to shake off his unease. “I’m just fine with coffee,” he said, his voice distant. Taehyung, ever the bubbly one, didn’t seem to notice. “You sure? I’m getting the lemon cheesecake and a croissant! You have to try a bite, it’s amazing!” he insisted, practically bouncing in his seat. Before Jungkook could protest, Jung Hoseok appeared, wearing the café apron and grinning brightly. “Well, well, look at the two of you!” he teased. Both Jungkook and Taehyung looked at him, and in unison, they shouted, “Hobi hyung!” (Taehyung) and “Seok-ie hyung!” (Jungkook), blinking at each other in confusion. Hoseok laughed, amused at their synchronized reactions. “Finally, you two meet! I was wondering how long it would take.” Taehyung furrowed his brow, looking up at Hoseok. “Wait, what do you mean? And what are you doing here, hyung?” “I bought this café,” Hoseok said, shrugging casually. “But since I saw you lovebirds sitting here, I thought I’d personally take your order.” Both of them blushed at the word lovebirds. Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s just a coffee date, hyung. Nothing... much.” Taehyung’s face flickered with a hint of hurt, but he quickly masked it with a laugh. “Yeah, just coffee!” he chimed in, though his voice was slightly quieter.Hoseok grinned knowingly and took their orders—Taehyung’s usual iced caramel macchiato, lemon cheesecake, and a croissant, and Jungkook’s black coffee—before disappearing into the kitchen. The conversation started again, Taehyung doing his best to keep the mood light, talking excitedly about random things. “This place is so cute, right? I had no idea Hobi hyung owned it! He’s really got his hands in everything!” Jungkook smiled stiffly, nodding but still distant. Taehyung, in his usual fashion, didn’t let Jungkook’s mood bother him. He kept chatting happily, his energy infectious. When Hoseok returned with their drinks and food, he also placed down a couple of heart-shaped cookies and matching cups with little hearts on them.“It’s on the house,” Hoseok said, winking. “For the cute couple.” Jungkook blushed deeply, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, while Taehyung just laughed, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Thanks, hyung! These are adorable!” After Hoseok left, Taehyung didn’t waste a second. He eagerly picked up his fork and cut into the lemon cheesecake, scooping up a generous piece. He pushed the plate toward Jungkook. “Here, you have to try this! It’s amazing!” Jungkook shook his head, backing away a little. “I don’t really like sweet stuff, Tae...”But Taehyung wouldn’t take no for an answer. With a mischievous smile, he brought the fork closer to Jungkook’s mouth. “Come on, just one bite! I promise you’ll like it!” Jungkook opened his mouth to protest, but before he could get a word out, Taehyung took the opportunity to shove the fork in, a wide grin spreading across his face as the icing smeared across the corner of Jungkook’s lips.Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise as the creamy lemon flavor hit his taste buds. Taehyung’s laughter bubbled up, his eyes crinkling as he pointed at Jungkook’s face. “Ohhh, you’ve got some cream on your lips, Jungkookie!” Jungkook instinctively reached up to wipe it away, but Taehyung was faster. “Let me get that for you,” he said, his voice dropping just slightly. Before Jungkook could react, Taehyung leaned in, gently brushing the cream off Jungkook’s lips with his fingers. Instead of wiping it away with a napkin, Taehyung brought the finger to his own mouth, licking the icing off with a small moan. “Mmm, shouldn’t waste,” he teased. Jungkook gulped, his face burning, and his heart hammering in his chest. Taehyung was wild and lovely, a dangerous combination. He was playful but so seductive in the way he moved. Jungkook wasn’t sure how long he could resist this charm. While Jungkook was lost in his thoughts, Taehyung brought another spoonful of cheesecake toward him, his smile innocent but his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Come on, see? It wasn’t that hard. Just one more bite.” This time, without hesitation, Jungkook opened his mouth, letting Taehyung feed him. He wasn’t sure if it was the taste of the cake or the heat from Taehyung’s boldness, but something made his chest tighten. “See? Easy,” Taehyung said with his signature boxy grin. “I knew you’d like it.”Jungkook wiped his mouth, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Yeah, it’s not bad,” he mumbled. Taehyung laughed, savoring the moment. “You’re so serious all the time, Jungkookie. You should relax more. Enjoy life a little.” He leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his macchiato, eyes never leaving Jungkook’s face. Jungkook let out a small sigh, his gaze softening slightly. “It’s not that easy, Tae. Not everyone’s like you. Some people... overthink things.” “Overthinking makes life boring,” Taehyung replied simply, his tone light. “You’ve gotta stop worrying so much about stuff that doesn’t matter.” Jungkook couldn’t help but smile a little at that, even though Taehyung’s words hit close to home. “You make it sound so simple.” “It is simple,” Taehyung said with a shrug, offering Jungkook another bite of his cheesecake. “You’re the one complicating it.” Jungkook hesitated, then took the bite, savoring the sweetness. He wasn’t sure if it was the cake or Taehyung’s infectious energy, but something in him felt lighter. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Taehyung flashed him a bright grin. “And yet you agreed to come here,” he teased, winking. Jungkook felt his cheeks heat up again, unsure how to respond. He quickly took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his flustered state. After a few more playful exchanges, Taehyung suddenly glanced out the window, his eyes widening in recognition. “Oh! right! hyung’ has left his car, he texted me” He turned to Jungkook, grinning brightly. “I can drop you off, if you want. It’s on the way!” Jungkook groaned internally, not sure if he could handle more of Taehyung’s teasing. But he also couldn’t bring himself to refuse the offer. “Sure, Tae. Thanks.” They paid for their order, with Hoseok giving them one last teasing wink, and headed to the car. Taehyung hummed happily as he drove, keeping the conversation light as Jungkook sat in the passenger seat, feeling conflicted.When they finally pulled up outside Jungkook’s apartment, Taehyung put the car in park and turned to him with that same infectious smile. “Thanks for hanging out today, Jungkook. It was fun!” “Yeah,” Jungkook said awkwardly, fumbling with the door handle. “It was... fun.” Before Jungkook could get out, Taehyung leaned over and placed a soft, quick kiss on his cheek, his lips warm against Jungkook’s skin. It was so brief and unexpected that Jungkook froze, his heart skipping a beat. “See you later!” Taehyung said cheerfully, as if the kiss was the most natural thing in the world. Jungkook blinked, his hand moving to touch the spot where Taehyung kissed him. “Uh... yeah. See you,” he stammered, his face burning with embarrassment and something else he couldn’t quite name. ************************************************************************ Seokjin collapsed to his knees in the middle of his beautiful garden, the once serene surroundings now tainted by the sharp sting of betrayal. The murderer's sword had pierced his stomach, and the pain surged through him like wildfire. Blood pooled at his feet, staining the vibrant greenery with the vivid mark of death. His scream, sharp and desperate, echoed through the garden. The sound was enough to alert his guards, who rushed toward him. But by the time they arrived, the murderer had fled into the shadows, leaving behind the weapon of their crime — the sword that remained embedded in Seokjin's body. Seokjin coughed, his breath shallow as darkness started to close in. The world around him felt surreal, the once-vibrant colors of the garden fading to shades of gray. His guards called out to him, but their voices felt distant, like they were coming from another realm. As Seokjin’s vision began to blur, he heard a soft yet commanding voice.
“Your time has not come to rest.”
Seokjin’s eyes snapped open, though his body no longer felt like his own. The pain from the sword remained, but everything around him had shifted. The world stood still. His guards, though close by, were frozen mid-step, unable to reach him. Time itself had stopped. From the haze of his fading consciousness, a godly figure emerged, radiant and imposing. The god of fate, clad in robes that shimmered like the stars, approached Seokjin, their expression both merciful and unforgiving. “You have met your end, but your journey is far from over,” The god of fate declared, their voice resonating like the sound of thunder in a storm. “The sword that has pierced your flesh is not just any weapon. It belongs to the one who took your life, and only they can remove it, releasing you from this world. Until that moment, you shall walk the earth, neither fully alive nor truly dead.” Seokjin’s eyes widened as he attempted to grasp the meaning of the god’s words. “What… what are you saying? Why can’t I just die in peace?” The god of fate’s gaze hardened. “Because your death alone does not atone for the sin you have committed. The life you once lived carries a weight, a shadow of a great wrong. For this, you are condemned to live beyond death, a phantom in this world, until you discover your sin and balance the scales with good deeds.” Seokjin’s heart raced. “But… what sin? What did I do? Please, tell me!” The god of fate’s expression softened only slightly, but their tone remained firm. “You must find that answer on your own. Search your memories, search your past. Only through understanding and redemption will you gain the peace you seek.” Seokjin gasped, feeling the weight of the punishment settling into his bones. “But… how will I live like this? How long must I suffer?” The god raised their hand, and with a wave of their fingers, Seokjin’s surroundings transformed. His body became ethereal, a translucent version of himself, bound to the mortal world but no longer truly a part of it. His wound from the sword remained, a constant reminder of the crime committed against him. The sword glowed faintly, a cursed object that tied him to his fate.
“You will live as a phantom, cursed with immortality until the one who plunged the sword into you returns to take it out. Only then will you be granted peace.”
Seokjin’s eyes widened in fear. “What if they never come back? What if I can never find them?” The deity offered no comfort, their voice resolute. “Then you will live for eternity, bound to this world, until fate deems otherwise.” Tears welled in Seokjin’s eyes as he watched the god fade into the ether. The vibrant colors of the garden slowly returned, and time resumed its course. His guards finally reached him, but Their eyes widen in terror, hands trembling around their spears. Seokjin sees their faces drained of color, fear etched into every line as they witness something that should not be. His eyes, once dimmed by death, now glow faintly in the fading light—an otherworldly, spectral hue that sends chills down their spines. A sharp breath escapes his lungs, though no air seems to fill them. His entire body jerks violently, as if pulled by some unseen force, and he sits upright, the cold hilt of the sword still lodged in his abdomen. He feels the sharp metal shifting inside him, but there’s no pain, no warmth of blood seeping from the wound. Just the cold, unnatural sensation of something foreign piercing through him. Seokjin's body, unnaturally light, begins to rise slowly from the ground. His feet no longer touch the earth, as if gravity no longer binds him. The air around him grows colder, and a strange wind stirs the fallen leaves at his feet, whispering with an ancient and eerie resonance. The sword still protrudes from his stomach, its polished blade shimmering in the twilight, but it remains fixed within him, an eternal reminder of the murder that claimed his life. One guard, barely able to contain his terror, stumbles backward. "Ghost...he's...he's risen from the dead!" His voice trembles as he drops his spear, and the clatter echoes through the garden like a death knell. The other guards follow his lead, their faces pale as they mutter hurried prayers to ward off the spirit they believe is haunting them. They make the sign of protection, backing away slowly at first, then breaking into a terrified run as Seokjin continues to float, his body hanging in the air like a cursed specter. Seokjin tries to speak, to call out, but no words leave his lips. His body doesn’t respond the way it used to. His heart no longer beats, and his chest no longer rises and falls. He’s suspended in a state of unnatural existence—alive but not truly living. The sword embedded in him is cold and heavy, a constant reminder of his murderer and the sin he must now atone for. The guards, having fled in terror, leave Seokjin alone in the garden, their footsteps fading into the distance. He drifts back down to the ground, his feet hovering just above the earth, and he tries to pull the sword from his body. But it doesn’t budge—it’s as if it’s fused with him, a part of him now, inseparable from his cursed form. Only the one who stabbed him can remove it, the deity’s words echoing in his mind. As he looks around, he realizes the world has grown darker, colder. The garden, once vibrant and filled with life, now feels foreign to him. The flowers seem to wilt in his presence, and the trees sway in a wind that carries the scent of death. His own home, the palace where he once ruled, feels distant, as if it no longer belongs to him. He is a stranger here, and he knows now that he is bound to this place as a phantom. In the days that followed, whispers of Seokjin’s resurrection spread through the palace. No one dared speak his name aloud, but rumors of a cursed king who had risen from death began to circulate. The Kim family, horrified by the supernatural event, distanced themselves from Seokjin entirely. His name was removed from the family records, as if he had never existed. They buried his belongings in Gweachan, the place of his birth, in a quiet and unmarked grave. Rituals were held to cleanse the family of his spirit, arms and food offerings given to Buddhist monks in hopes that Seokjin’s cursed soul would not haunt them. The sword remained in Seokjin's body, a dark omen that marked him for eternity. He wandered the earth, invisible to the living, doomed to seek redemption for a sin he could not remember. Only when his murderer returned to claim the sword would Seokjin be freed to find peace. Until then, he was a ghost, a king forgotten by history, cursed to atone for an unknown past—forever bound to the world he no longer belonged to. ******************************************************************************* “I was so jumpy! Every tiny sound had me clutching the armrest like my life depended on it. And Namjoon... the way he kept looking at me! Ugh, like I was some scared child. It was humiliating,” Seokjin groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. “You? Scared?” Yoongi leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, amusement flickering in his eyes. “I thought phantoms weren’t afraid of anything.” Seokjin shot him a mock glare. “I’m still me, okay? A little fear is natural when the movie practically throws jump scares at you every five seconds.” Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “And let me guess, Namjoon just sat there... calm?” “Exactly! Calm, smug, and all-knowing,” Seokjin muttered. “And to make things worse, I dropped my popcorn into my lap halfway through the movie... then I panicked and bumped my head into the knee of the guy sitting next to me. It was a mess.” Yoongi let out a soft chuckle. “Sounds like a great time.” “Oh, it gets better,” Seokjin said, waving a hand dramatically. “After the movie, Namjoon apologized to everyone on my behalf like I was a misbehaving child. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, he teased me the whole way back to his place.” Seokjin sighed, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “But he did say I looked cute when I was scared.” Yoongi’s eyes softened as he watched Seokjin. There was always this vulnerability hidden beneath Seokjin’s confident exterior, and while Yoongi rarely commented on it, he could always see through the mask. “Sounds like you had quite the adventure,” Yoongi said, his tone more sincere now. “But I’m guessing that’s not the only thing on your mind.” Seokjin hesitated for a moment before leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Jungkook,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a different weight now. “He went on a date with Taehyung.” Yoongi’s brow furrowed slightly. “Jungkook went on a date? With Taehyung?” Seokjin nodded. “Yeah... it was just for coffee, but it’s something, right? A development.” He paused, exhaling softly. “I think he’s starting to move on. And honestly, Yoongi, I’m... happy for him. He deserves someone like Taehyung. Someone human.” Yoongi’s gaze remained steady on Seokjin, reading the underlying emotions in his words. “You sound relieved,” he remarked. “Are you?” Seokjin’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. “I guess I am. Jungkook has always... felt something for me, something I couldn’t reciprocate. I care about him, but not in the way he wanted. It’s been hard watching him hold onto those feelings.” “And now you hope he’ll let them go?” Yoongi’s voice was soft but probing, as if nudging Seokjin to confront the deeper truth. “I do,” Seokjin admitted. “He deserves to be with someone who can love him back fully. Someone who’s not a phantom trapped in an endless cycle of searching for a past that won’t let go.” His voice faltered slightly, and he quickly changed the subject. “Speaking of Taehyung...” Yoongi’s eyes sharpened at the shift. “What about him?” Seokjin hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “He doesn’t know everything yet. But.. He knows I’m a phantom, and he trusts me. But... he hasn’t seen the sword yet..or he see it but afraid to ask from me...” Yoongi’s gaze darkened. “You’re waiting for him to talk to you?” Seokjin nodded slowly. “Yeah. I can’t push him too fast. If he’s the one, if he really is my murderer... he’ll tell me eventually. But until then, I have to keep him close.” He let out a breath, his fingers tightening around the edge of the chair. “Apart from everything, Yoongi... I admire him. Taehyung, he’s... different. He’s kind, and lovely...” Yoongi’s face remained expressionless, but his voice carried a slight edge. “You’re treading dangerous waters, Seokjin.” “I know.” Seokjin’s voice was quiet, almost resigned. “But I need to understand why. Why did he stab me? What drove him to do it?”Yoongi’s voice dripped with frustration as he muttered, “This wouldn’t have happened if that fucker of a god of fate had just told us. He did it with me too, Jin, and now he’s done the same to you. Why he so secretive.. Isn’t it too much to ask for a name? Just one name—how hard is that?” Seokjin smiled painfully. “If he did that, then where’s the fun in all this, huh?” His tone was light, but the weight of their situation lingered in the air between them. Yoongi’s frown deepened, his worry bleeding through the cracks in his stoic facade. “Yeah, you are right, he likes to tease us and enjoy our miserable life” Seokjin’s smile faltered as he glanced away, the weight of it all pressing on him. “Seems that way,” he whispered, the playful edge in his voice vanishing.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Namjoon leaned back in his chair, a small, amused smile playing on his lips as he thought about the earlier not-so-movie-date with Seokjin. The memory of Seokjin jumping at every scare, clinging to the armrest like it was a lifeline, and flinching at even the softest sounds replayed in his mind. Seokjin was, without a doubt, terrified. The man had nearly spilled his popcorn over himself twice, and Namjoon had caught the moment Seokjin knocked his head against the knee of the poor guy sitting next to him. It was almost endearing—how utterly bad Seokjin was at handling horror movies. Namjoon chuckled quietly to himself, his eyes softening as he thought about Seokjin’s embarrassed smile afterward. Definitely not a fan of horror movies.But Namjoon’s smile slowly faded as his gaze shifted to his desk, where a collection of scrolls, a painted robe, and a delicate painting lay spread out. His expression grew serious, the weight of his real job pulling him back to reality. With a deep sigh, Namjoon leaned forward, picking up the robe carefully. His fingers traced over the intricate patterns woven into the fabric—delicate lines that formed the shape of small tuna. The design was subtle but unmistakable, the fish interwoven into the robes’ threads in a pattern that was centuries old. This tuna... where have I seen this before? Namjoon’s brow furrowed, his brain working to connect the dots. And then, it clicked. Namjoon immediately opened his laptop and began typing into the search bar: Jin Corporation. He clicked on the image results, and there it was—the logo of the company, a stylized tuna, identical to the pattern on the robe he was holding.His heart raced slightly as he scrolled further. The logo appeared over and over, but something was missing. No articles about Kim Seokjin appeared. Namjoon even searched Seokjin’s name directly, but the results were confusing. The only prominent name tied to Jin Corporation was Jeon Jungkook. Namjoon frowned. “Okay... I knew Seokjin wasn’t heavily involved in business, but this?” He bit his lip, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he searched for any social media accounts linked to Seokjin. Nothing. Not a single trace of him. It was as if the man didn’t exist online. Suspicious... No, this can’t be right... Namjoon leaned back, rubbing his temples. Is this normal? he wondered, his mind tangled in confusion. There were too many unanswered questions about Seokjin’s life. No presence online, no articles—nothing. How could someone connected to such a major corporation be so... hidden? Namjoon was about to close his laptop when something clicked in his mind, and he shot up from his chair, rushing out of his room and into Taehyung’s. His younger brother wasn’t home yet, but Namjoon knew exactly what he was looking for.There, sitting on Taehyung’s dressing table, was a small wooden token, intricately carved with the same tuna emblem. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. The tuna pattern, the robe, the Jin Corporation logo—they were all connected. But how? And why did Seokjin resemble the late King Kim Seokjin so much? Does Tae know any of this? Is he hiding something from me? Just as he was lost in thought, the sound of the front door opening startled him. Taehyung’s footsteps echoed through the hallway, and Namjoon quickly placed the token back where he found it, stepping out of the room just as Taehyung entered the living room. Taehyung looked at him with a curious smile. “Hyung? What were you doing in my room?” Namjoon scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to think fast. “Uh... I was looking for my AirPods. Thought I might’ve left them in there.” Taehyung immediately crossed his arms, giving Namjoon a playful yet scolding look. “Hyung! You’re always losing those things! Honestly, how many times do I have to tell you to keep track of them? Do you even know where you last saw them?” Namjoon winced, caught in Taehyung’s well-meaning but sharp reprimand. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m just... forgetful sometimes,” he muttered, trying to wave it off.Taehyung didn’t let up. “Seriously, hyung! You need to be more careful. How are you supposed to function when you’re always losing stuff? Come on, let’s look for them.” He was already moving toward Namjoon’s room, ready to help search.But Namjoon quickly raised his hand, stopping Taehyung in his tracks. “It’s fine, Tae. I’ll find them on my own. I’m sure they’re around here somewhere.” He smiled, trying to divert the conversation away from the AirPods, which he knew were actually sitting on his desk the whole time. Taehyung walked past him, slipping out of his shoes and tossing his jacket onto the couch. “Honestly, hyung... one day you’re going to lose something important, and I’m not helping you find it.” He threw a playful glare at Namjoon, who just smiled sheepishly. Namjoon quickly shifted the conversation, trying to ease the tension. “So, how was your date?” At the mention of the date, Taehyung’s entire face lit up. “Oh, it was great! I mean, Jungkook’s still a bit shy, you know? He’s not much of a talker, but he was sweet. We had coffee, and just had casual talk. Afterward, I dropped him off at his apartment and headed to the agency to get some work done.” Namjoon nodded, listening closely but his mind still lingering on the token. “Sounds like you had a good time.” “Yup! I think he’s warming up to me,” Taehyung said, his tone brimming with enthusiasm. “He just needs to relax a bit, you know? He’s like a bunny—easily spooked.” Namjoon chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds like him.” Taehyung looked at Namjoon, his brow furrowing slightly. “What about you, hyung? What did you do today?” Namjoon hesitated for a second, thinking back to his day with Seokjin. “Well... I went to watch a horror movie with Seokjin-ssi.” Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise. “Seokjin-ssi? Wait, the Seokjin-ssi? The one who...?” Namjoon immediately raised his hand, cutting off Taehyung’s teasing before it could escalate. “It was a friendly encounter. Nothing more.” But Taehyung wasn’t about to let him off that easily. A mischievous grin spread across his face. “Oh, really? Watching a movie with Seokjin? Hyung, you sly dog! Was he scared? Did he hold your hand during the scary parts?” Namjoon groaned, scratching the back of his neck, his cheeks flushing slightly. “It wasn’t like that. He’s... terrified of horror movies.” Taehyung burst into laughter, doubling over at the mental image. “Oh my god, Seokjin-ssi is a scaredy-cat? That’s priceless! I can just imagine him jumping at every little sound.” Namjoon sighed, knowing there was no stopping Taehyung when he got like this. But then, an idea crossed his mind. “Hey, Tae... could you do me a favor?”Taehyung raised an eyebrow, still giggling. “Sure, what is it?” Namjoon hesitated, feeling slightly awkward. “Could you... give me Seokjin-ssi’s number?” Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his playful smirk faltered for a moment. “Seokjin’s number?” He eyed Namjoon curiously. “Why do you need that?” Namjoon bit his lip, feeling the pressure of Taehyung’s gaze. “I just... I need to talk to him about something. Something related to work.” Taehyung gave him a look, clearly not buying the excuse. “Work-related, huh? That’s new. Since when do you and Seokjin-ssi work together?” Namjoon sighed, feeling the tension build. He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping. “Please, Tae. I really need to talk to him. It’s important.” Taehyung’s teasing expression softened as he saw the sincerity in Namjoon’s eyes. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just watching his brother carefully.Finally, with a soft sigh, Taehyung pulled out his phone. “Alright, alright, you win,” he said, typing in Seokjin’s number before passing his phone to Namjoon. “Here. take it.” Namjoon chuckled, relieved. “Thanks, Tae.” Taehyung waved him off, laughing lightly. “Just don’t mess it up, okay?” Namjoon nodded, taking the number and quickly saving it into his phone. As he slipped the phone back into his pocket, Taehyung stretched and let out a dramatic yawn. “You know what? I think I need a bath. Too much excitement today.” Namjoon smiled, watching as Taehyung disappeared toward the bathroom. He let out a long sigh, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and unease as he stared at Seokjin’s number on his phone screen. Who is Seokjin?… he thought as he made his way back to his room, the weight of the mystery only growing heavier. **************************************************************************** The bathroom was bathed in soft candlelight, the flickering flames casting a warm glow over the marble walls. The air was thick with the scent of rose petals, their delicate blooms floating atop the water in the large, sunken bathtub. Foam covered the surface, hiding Seokjin’s bare skin beneath the soft white bubbles. His body was submerged in the warmth, and only his shoulders and chest peeked through the water. Seokjin leaned back against the tub, his wet hair clinging to his forehead in dark strands, a few droplets of water sliding down his perfectly sculpted cheekbones. His skin glowed against the backdrop of the water, his delicate beauty enhanced by the soft light. His lips, naturally plump and rosy, were pressed into a thoughtful line as he absentmindedly rubbed a sponge over his forearm, lost in his thoughts.He sighed, sinking deeper into the bath, the water rippling gently around him. His mind replayed the events of earlier—his embarrassing encounter with Namjoon at the horror movie. Seokjin let out a soft groan, rubbing his hand over his face. How could I have been so obvious? Moreover how could a ghost get scared of ghosts? Am I that much scary? He winced at the memory of every jump scare that had him flinching, how he’d nearly spilled his popcorn not once, but twice, and the mortifying moment when he knocked his head into the knee of the person sitting next to him.Namjoon must think I’m a complete scaredy-cat. Seokjin felt his cheeks burn at the thought. Of course, Namjoon had noticed—he was observant. Seokjin could see it in the way Namjoon looked at him with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. He wasn’t into horror movies, and it was painfully clear. And then Namjoon had to apologize for me. Seokjin sighed, remembering how Namjoon had politely made excuses for his behavior to everyone around them. Could it get any more embarrassing? As Seokjin rubbed the sponge over his skin, he couldn’t shake the feeling of regret that settled in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t even asked for Namjoon’s number. His embarrassment had overwhelmed him, and now he was left wondering if he should have been braver. Should he ask Taehyung for it? But that thought brought a new wave of uncertainty. Would Taehyung even give it to him, knowing that Seokjin was—well, not exactly alive? Seokjin’s chest tightened at the thought. He was a phantom, a living dead. What business did he have pursuing someone like Namjoon? The doubt gnawed at him, but still, there was something about Namjoon that lingered in his mind, something that made Seokjin want to know more. With a soft sigh, Seokjin lifted his hand, using his phantom powers to float his phone into the air. The phone hovered before him, the screen lighting up as he unlocked it without even touching it. His fingers danced in the air as he typed out a message to Taehyung. Seokjin: Can you do me a favor?Seokjin barely had time to let his nerves set in when a reply came almost instantly. Taehyung: If you're asking for my hyung's number, the wish is already granted 😉 Seokjin blinked, confused. What did that mean? Already granted? He stared at the screen, his mind racing. Before he could think too much, his phone vibrated in mid-air, signaling a new message from an unknown number. Seokjin’s heart skipped a beat as he read the message. Unknown Number: Hi, this is Kim Namjoon. Got your number from Taehyung. Seokjin’s eyes widened, and a smile slowly spread across his lips. His plump lips curled into a full grin, a lightness filling his chest. Thank god, he thought, we’re both on the same boat. As his fingers hovered over the floating phone, he felt a flutter of excitement. He quickly typed a reply, his heart thudding with anticipation. Seokjin: Oh! Hi, Namjoon-ssi. I hope you are doing okay.(Sending that message made Seokjin’s fingers tingle with a nervous kind of excitement.) Namjoon: Of course, I’m more than okay. I actually wanted to talk to you after the movie, but... well, things were a bit chaotic. Seokjin smiled softly, remembering the chaos. He could almost see Namjoon’s composed expression during the entire ordeal. Seokjin: Yes... I think ‘chaotic’ is a kind way of putting it. 🙈 Namjoon: You were a bit out of your element, huh? Seokjin blushed slightly, recalling how Namjoon had taken everything in stride, even apologizing to the people around them for his jumps and startled movements. Seokjin: You could say that. Horror movies aren’t exactly my thing. 😅 Namjoon: I could tell.I’m sorry if I put you in an uncomfortable situation. I honestly didn’t expect the movie to be that intense. Seokjin paused, letting his fingers glide over the water's surface as he read Namjoon’s message. There was something about the professor’s composed tone that soothed him. It wasn’t playful or over the top—just genuine. Seokjin: You don’t need to apologize. It was my decision to stay. Besides, it wasn’t all bad.Seokjin’s cheeks warmed slightly as he realized how it sounded, but he didn’t backtrack. The truth was, spending time with Namjoon hadn’t been bad at all. Namjoon: Well, I’m glad to hear that. I enjoyed the company. Seokjin’s dead heart fluttered at the simple message. There was no heavy-handed charm, just a quiet confidence that Namjoon carried in his words. Seokjin’s fingers hovered over the screen, feeling the tug of something he hadn’t expected. Seokjin: I enjoyed the company too. Even if I was... well, embarrassing. 🙈 Namjoon: Embarrassing? Not at all. Everyone reacts differently to those kinds of movies. Honestly, I admired how you handled it. Seokjin blinked at the message. Admired? He hadn’t expected that. There was something in Namjoon’s words that didn’t feel like flattery. It felt sincere, and it made Seokjin’s heart stir in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Seokjin: I don’t know about ‘handling it,’ but thank you for saying that.Seokjin felt his lips curve into a soft smile as he thought of Namjoon’s calm presence beside him during the movie. Namjoon: Of course. Besides, it’s not every day you meet someone who makes you forget about the movie altogether. Seokjin’s breath caught slightly as he read the message. Namjoon wasn’t being overly flirty—there was a subtlety to his words that caught Seokjin off guard. His heart gave a small, unexpected flutter. Seokjin: Is that so? You must’ve been very distracted.Seokjin’s message was meant to be light, but he couldn’t help the small thrill that came with the thought that maybe Namjoon had been watching him more than the movie. Namjoon: Maybe I was.Seokjin felt his dried pulse quicken at the simple reply. Namjoon wasn’t laying it on thick; instead, his words were measured, thoughtful, just like the man himself.)Seokjin shifted in the bath, the warm water lapping at his skin as he leaned back against the edge, his phone floating in front of him, suspended by his phantom powers. Seokjin: So, what are you working on tonight, Professor?Seokjin felt his curiosity spike. Namjoon’s life intrigued him—there was something about him that felt grounded, intellectual, and Seokjin found himself drawn to that. Namjoon: Just going over some old stuffs. A little research before bed.Seokjin: Sounds like a busy night. Namjoon: It is. But I was thinking... next time, maybe we can do something less intense than a horror movie? Something we can both enjoy. Seokjin paused, his fingers lingering in the air. He hadn’t expected Namjoon to suggest another meeting so soon, but the idea made something flutter in his chest. Seokjin: Less intense? I’m curious what you have in mind. Namjoon: How do you feel about museums? Seokjin’s lips parted in surprise. A museum? It wasn’t a typical suggestion, but coming from Namjoon, it made perfect sense. The thought of walking through quiet halls filled with art and history, with Namjoon beside him, sounded... peaceful. Seokjin: A museum sounds perfect, actually. 😊 Namjoon: I thought it might be more your speed. We can take our time, look at some art, and maybe grab coffee after? Seokjin’s heart warmed at the simplicity of it all. Namjoon wasn’t trying to impress him with grand gestures or flashy dates. Instead, he offered something thoughtful, something that would allow them to get to know each other. Seokjin: That sounds like a perfect way to spend an evening. Namjoon: Then it’s a plan. Tomorrow evening? I’ll pick you up at 4? Seokjin felt a strange lightness in his chest as he read the message. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted to see Namjoon again until now. Seokjin: Tomorrow at 6 sounds perfect. I’ll be ready. Namjoon’s reply came quickly, and Seokjin could almost hear the quiet smile in his words. Namjoon: Looking forward to it, Seokjin-ssi. Seokjin’s plump lips curled into a smile as he set his phone down on the edge of the tub, leaning back against the warm water. His dead heart stirred ever so slightly as a wave of excitement washed over him. Butterflies danced in his stomach, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to see Namjoon again. A museum date? His cheeks flushed as he thought about it. Namjoon hadn’t explicitly called it a date, but Seokjin couldn’t help but think it was. Is it? It has to be... right? He didn’t know why it felt so significant, but it did. Namjoon’s charm wasn’t flashy or overbearing; it was steady, subtle, the kind of charm that caught you off guard. And Seokjin, despite himself, felt something stirring inside him. Seokjin closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the bath and the soft scent of roses envelop him. The thought of seeing Namjoon again filled him with a mix of nerves and anticipation, and for the first time in a long while, Seokjin felt a strange sense of... heaviness. What if this is short-lived? Seokjin’s dead heart fluttered uneasily. He had found his murderer—the person who had ended his life—and he knew the rules. Once the truth was revealed, it was only a matter of time before he would have to leave this world. His existence, this fragile balance between life and death, was temporary. Is it fair to Namjoon? Seokjin’s thoughts spiraled, the weight of his situation pressing down on him. Namjoon was alive, vibrant, full of life. And Seokjin... he was nothing more than a phantom, bound to disappear once his purpose was fulfilled. It felt cruel, like dangling a fleeting dream in front of Namjoon, only to snatch it away. But despite the weight of these thoughts, despite knowing he might vanish at any moment, Seokjin couldn’t stop the yearning that burned deep inside him. Like a moth drawn irresistibly to a flame, Seokjin wanted Namjoon. He wanted to feel the professor’s calm presence beside him, hear his thoughtful words, and get lost in the quiet moments they shared. Even if it was fleeting. Even if it meant one day he would have to leave. Is it selfish? Seokjin wondered, his eyes closing as he felt the familiar ache in his chest. It probably was. But in the moment, all he could think about was tomorrow evening—the museum, the quiet halls, and Namjoon’s voice guiding him through the history they’d explore together. Maybe... it’s worth it, Seokjin thought, his lips curling into a bittersweet smile. He placed his hand gently on his chest, where his heart once beat with life, now stirred only by the presence of Namjoon.
Even if it’s just for a short time... I want him.
And with that, Seokjin allowed himself to feel the soft flicker of hope, knowing that no matter what, tomorrow he would be with Namjoon again. **************************************************************************** The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a table lamp casting warm hues across the walls. Jimin moved about the kitchen, brewing tea, while Jungkook sat silently on the couch, his eyes distant, lips pressed into a thin line. The air felt heavy with something unspoken, and Jimin, ever perceptive, picked up on it immediately. “Jungkook-ah, you’ve been really quiet today,” Jimin called out, his tone gentle but probing. He stirred the tea leaves in the pot, watching Jungkook over his shoulder. “Something’s bothering you. What’s going on?” Jungkook blinked, pulled out of his thoughts by Jimin’s voice. He shifted uncomfortably, running his hand through his hair before mumbling, “Nothing, hyung.” Jimin’s eyes narrowed as he approached the couch, handing Jungkook a steaming cup of tea. “Don’t give me that. I know you too well,” he said, sitting beside him. “You’ve barely said a word since you got here. Spill.” Jungkook hesitated, cradling the cup between his hands. He stared at the swirling steam, as if hoping it would carry away the weight sitting on his chest. “It’s... really nothing.” Jimin wasn’t convinced. He leaned in slightly, his gaze sharp yet soft. “Tae got your number from me,” he said, his tone casual, though his eyes watched for any reaction. “Now don’t tell me nothing happened, What’s going on?” Jungkook stiffened, his grip tightening around the cup. He didn’t answer right away, but Jimin’s words hung in the air, heavy with expectation. After a long pause, Jungkook mumbled, “We... went on a coffee date this morning.” Jimin raised an eyebrow, setting his cup down on the coffee table. “A coffee date?”His tone was laced with curiosity, but also suspicion. “You and Taehyung?” Jungkook nodded, his voice barely audible. “Yeah.” Jimin leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied Jungkook.“I didn’t know you were interested in Taehyung. This is... new.” Jungkook said nothing, his gaze fixed on his cup. The silence stretched, and Jimin’s frown deepened. “What are you trying to do, Jungkook?” Jimin asked, his voice softer now, but there was a serious edge to it. “You’ve never shown any interest in Tae before. Why now?” Jungkook’s shoulders tensed, and his jaw clenched. He could feel the weight of Jimin’s question pressing down on him, but he couldn’t find the right words. When he finally spoke, his voice was tight, almost defensive. “What... what do you mean?” “I mean,” Jimin said slowly, his eyes not leaving Jungkook’s, “you’ve never talked about Taehyung like that before. Not once. And suddenly, you’re going on a date with him?” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze unwavering. “I know you, Jungkook. What’s going on?” Jungkook’s hands tightened around his cup, his chest tightening with frustration. “Why does it matter?” he snapped, his voice harsher than he intended. “Are you saying I have to stick to someone who’ll never reciprocate my feelings?” Jimin blinked, surprised by the sudden outburst, but he remained calm, his expression softening. “Jungkook, that’s not what I’m saying.” Jungkook exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Then what? I’m trying to move on, okay? I... I want to feel something too. Is that so wrong?” Jimin’s face softened even more, the concern in his eyes deepening. “Of course not,” he said quietly. “But... are you sure this is about Taehyung? Or are you just... using him to forget someone else?” Jungkook’s eyes widened, a flicker of guilt flashing across his face. “What do you mean?” Jimin sighed, leaning back against the couch, his arms dropping to his sides. “I mean... I know how you’ve felt about Seokjin-hyung. For years, you’ve been waiting for him to notice you, to give you something more. And now, suddenly, you’re going on a date with Tae? It just feels... out of nowhere.” Jungkook’s throat tightened, and he looked away, his fingers trembling slightly around the cup. “Are you saying I don’t deserve to move on? That I have to keep waiting for something that’ll never happen?” Jimin shook his head quickly. “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. You deserve to be happy, Jungkook. I want you to be happy. But... I need to know if you’re serious about Taehyung.” Jungkook’s heart pounded erratically at Jimin’s words, the truth clawing at him. His chest tightened with the weight of his lie. “I’m not... I’m not playing with him, hyung. I’m not.” His voice shook slightly, but he pressed on, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. “I just... I need to move on. I need to stop holding onto feelings for someone who’ll never feel the same way.” Jimin sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I get it. I do.” He paused, watching Jungkook carefully. “But listen... Taehyung is my best friend. He’s never opened up to anyone like he has with you. He’s... he’s not like other people. He’s serious about this. And if you’re using him to forget Seokjin-hyung... I need to know now. Because I won’t let you hurt him.” Jungkook’s eyes widened, his chest tightening at Jimin’s words. “I’m not using him,” he said quickly, his voice filled with desperation. “I swear, hyung, it’s not like that. I... I care about Taehyung. I really do.” Jimin studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded, his gaze softening once more. “Okay. I believe you.” Jungkook let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his shoulders slumping with relief. “But,” Jimin added, his voice firm, “if I find out you’re toying with him, I’ll kill you.” His tone was light, but there was a seriousness behind his words. “Tae deserves someone who’s all in. Not someone who’s half-hearted or confused.” Jungkook nodded quickly, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke. “I won’t hurt him, hyung. I promise.” Jimin’s gaze lingered on Jungkook for a moment longer before he finally smiled, his hand reaching out to pat Jungkook’s knee. “Good. Then you have my support.” Jungkook blinked, surprised by the sudden shift. “You... you support us?”Jimin nodded, his smile growing warmer. “Of course. If you’re serious about this, I’ll support both of you. I just want to make sure you’re not diving into something you’re not ready for.” Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you, hyung.” Jimin’s smile softened even further as he leaned back against the couch. “Don’t thank me yet. Just... make sure you know what you’re doing. Taehyung really likes you, Jungkook. Don’t forget that.” Jungkook nodded again, feeling the weight of Jimin’s words settle in his chest. ****************************************************************************
Taehyung was on his knees,
The daylight was harsh,
He was surrounded by crowd,
their faces lined with pity.
Taehyung’s head hung low, eyes half-closed in exhaustion.
He didn’t fully understand why, but his hands were clutching his stomach protectively,
From the corner of his eye, he saw an executioner waiting for the command, sword in hand, the blade glinted menacingly in the sunlight.
The air was thick with tension, the silence broken only by the distant, echoing footsteps of unseen figure. Taehyung's eyes darted around, searching for a familiar face, but the world was a blur of distorted image.
A figure emerged from the shadows, their face shrouded in darkness. A name, a whisper, echoed in Taehyung's mind: "Pyeaha." The voice was soft, almost pleading,
A sword…
Taehyung looked down, he saw them stained crimson.
The blood spread across his hands and the ground.
With a sudden jolt, Taehyung was ripped from the nightmare. He sat up in his bed, gasping for breath, the cool morning light flooding the room. As he blinked, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare, he looked down at his hands. The hands that had covered his stomach protectively, It was bloodied, still trembling slightly.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Taehyung’s heart fluttered when he saw Jungkook’s message pop up on his phone: "I’ll be there in 10 to pick you up. See you soon." Taehyung, as Jin corporation brand ambassador, had a new commercial to shoot. Additionally, there was a meeting scheduled between Taehyung's agency and Jungkook's company. So Jungkook was coming to pick him up. Excitement coursed through him as he got ready, wanting to look his best for the the meeting. He chose something that was both casual and effortlessly stylish. He slipped on a loose, cream-colored knit sweater, the neckline wide enough to reveal a glimpse of his collarbone, paired with ripped black jeans that hugged his legs perfectly. Finishing the look with white sneakers and a subtle silver chain around his neck, he smiled at his reflection. It was casual but trendy, the kind of look that screamed confidence without trying too hard. His phone buzzed again. “I’m at the gate.” Taehyung took one last look in the mirror, satisfied with his appearance, and headed to his hyung's room to let him know he was leaving. He knocked gently, but there was no answer. With a growing sense of concern, Taehyung slowly opened the door. The sight that greeted him was a stark contrast to the cheerful morning outside. Namjoon was sprawled out on a sea of research papers, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. It was clear that his hyung had been up all night, working tirelessly. Feeling guilty for not checking on Namjoon earlier, Taehyung gently shook him awake. Namjoon groaned and blinked his eyes open sleepily. "Taehyung? Where are you going so early?" he mumbled, his voice raspy. "I'm going to the company with Jungkook," Taehyung replied, his voice filled with concern. "Go to bed hyung. You look exhausted." Namjoon tried to sit up, but his body protested. "I'm fine," he insisted, his voice weak. "Just go.." Taehyung smiled fondly and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Namjoon’s temple. “See you later, hyung.” As he left the apartment and stepped outside, his heart skipped a beat when he saw Jungkook waiting for him, leaning casually against his car. Jungkook was dressed in a tailored suit, effortlessly chic—his blazer perfectly fitted, his white shirt unbuttoned just enough to give off a relaxed vibe, paired with slim brown trousers and polished shoes. His sunglasses added to his sharp, cool demeanor. Taehyung’s breath caught for a moment at the sight. Jungkook always managed to look effortlessly perfect, and the way the morning sunlight hit him only made him more striking. “Morning,” Jungkook greeted with a warm smile as Taehyung approached. “Morning,” Taehyung echoed, trying to calm the sudden flutter of nerves. Jungkook’s presence always had a way of doing that to him. Jungkook opened the car door for him with a gentlemanly gesture. “Hop in.” Taehyung smiled, sliding into the passenger seat. He glanced at Jungkook as the door clicked shut gently behind him. As Jungkook settled into the driver’s seat, he glanced at Taehyung, who was adjusting his seatbelt. "So," Jungkook began, his voice casual but with a hint of curiosity, "how was yesterday's work? You seemed really busy." Taehyung turned toward him, eyes brightening at the question. "It was fine, just a lot of meetings. The agency wants me to attend the movie premier " he said with a light laugh. Jungkook nodded knowingly, his hands moving to the car's dashboard as he fiddled with the buttons. A soft, familiar melody began to play from the speakers.
I'm singin' in the rainJust singin' in the rain,What a glorious feeling,And I'm happy again.I'm laughing at cloudsSo dark, up above,The sun's in my heartAnd I'm ready for love.
Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise as his favorite song filled the car. "How did you?" Taehyung murmured, a bit taken aback. He turned to face Jungkook, feeling touched by the gesture. "It’s a secret" Jungkook replied with a smirk, eyes on the road. "I have my ways." The mood lightened as they drove along the quiet morning streets, the song creating a comfortable backdrop to the silence between them. But after a few moments, Jungkook made an unexpected turn. Taehyung glanced around, confused. "Where are we going?" Taehyung asked, curiosity piqued as Jungkook pulled into a juice bar parking lot. "Hold on, I’ll be right back," Jungkook said, parking the car and slipping out without another word. Taehyung watched through the window as Jungkook jogged into the shop. A few minutes later, he returned, holding a strawberry smoothie with a bright straw peeking out of the lid. "For you," Jungkook said with a grin as he handed it to Taehyung. Their fingers brushed for just a second, but it was enough to send a sudden warmth coursing through Taehyung’s body, and he quickly took the cup. "Thanks, but You don’t have to" Taehyung muttered softly, looking down at the smoothie, trying to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. Jungkook chuckled softly, catching the shift in Taehyung’s expression. "Careful with that. I don’t want you to spill it and ruin your suit," he teased, pulling the car to a stop by the curb. "Let’s wait here until you finish." Taehyung sipped slowly, the cool, sweet smoothie soothing against the morning heat. Then he offered the smoothie to Jungkook with a playful smile. "Want some?" Jungkook nodded, taking the cup and drinking from the same straw without hesitation. When he handed it back, Taehyung absentmindedly brought the straw back to his lips, realizing only afterward that it had just been on Jungkook’s mouth moments ago. An indirect kiss. How cool, Taehyung thought, shaking his head internally, trying to push the flustered feeling away. As he took the final sip, Jungkook suddenly leaned in, his thumb gently brushing against the corner of Taehyung’s lips, wiping away a small drop of juice.The touch was unexpectedly tender, that Taehyung froze. His heart pounded in his chest as Jungkook’s thumb lingered for just a second too long. "All clean," Jungkook said softly, his voice low as he pulled his hand back. He tossed the empty cup into the bin outside and got back into the driver’s seat, starting the car again as if nothing had happened. Taehyung swallowed hard, trying to calm the sudden racing of his heart. "Thanks for the smoothie," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Jungkook gave him a small smile, but the mood shifted slightly. His eyes stayed on the road, but his voice grew quieter. "I wanted to say sorry… if anything I did yesterday made you uncomfortable." Taehyung blinked, turning to face him, startled by the sudden apology. "What? No, you didn’t do anything wrong." Jungkook let out a soft sigh, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "It’s just… yesterday was my first date after a long time. I didn’t know what to do. And you—" he hesitated, glancing at Taehyung for just a second before looking away again. "You’re always so confident, a social butterfly. It made me feel… a bit overwhelmed by how to behave in front of you.”" Taehyung felt a warm flush spread across his chest. "Me? Confident?" He let out a light laugh. "I don’t think I was that confident." "You were," Jungkook insisted with a faint smile, his voice softer now. "I even had to ask Jimin for advice on how to not screw things up. He helped me relax, made me realize I just needed to be myself. I’m really glad your best friend is my friend too." Taehyung’s heart swelled at the thought of Jungkook going to Jimin for help. It made everything about yesterday feel more real, more genuine. "I’m glad too," he said, his voice warm. "Jimin always knows what to say, doesn’t he?" Jungkook chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Yeah, he does. I’ll be better next time, I promise." Taehyung smiled, feeling a flutter of excitement at the mention of a "next time." He glanced out the window, then back at Jungkook, his voice light and teasing. "I’m looking forward to it." ******************************************************************************** Seokjin sat alone on the bench, gazing at the water fountain in the park. The sun cast a soft glow over the lively scene in front of him, but his mind wandered far from the joy surrounding him. He watched the children splash through the water, their laughter filling the air, and wondered, Had I ever felt this kind of carefree happiness? No. Since childhood, Seokjin had known nothing of joy or play. He had been the third son of the king, born to a concubine of no status. From the moment he entered the world, he was neglected. His two elder brothers, who stood in line for the crown, were the center of attention. Seokjin, powerless and insignificant, was all but forgotten. He spent most of his early years in the palace at Gwacheon, far from the eyes of the court, far from any love or recognition. From a young age, Seokjin understood his place. His two elder brothers were the shining stars of the royal family, groomed from birth to wear the crown one day. They had the favor of the court, the king’s attention, and the people’s admiration. Seokjin, on the other hand, was an afterthought—a prince in name only, but one without any real significance. He was only twelve when he first heard the news—his eldest brother, the crown prince, had died of illness. Seokjin had felt nothing. There was no shift in his world. His second elder brother was quickly made crown prince, and life went on as usual. No one bothered to invite him to the palace for celebrations or gatherings; his mother’s lowly status ensured that Seokjin remained an afterthought. His mother, bitter and filled with resentment toward the king, never showed him affection. She resented the child she had borne—a son of the man she hated, a symbol of a life she could never escape. Every look she gave him was laced with bitterness, every word dripping with contempt. Seokjin learned early that he was invisible to her, just as he was to the rest of the world. Then one day, everything changed. A royal wagon appeared at the gates of his quiet palace, its purpose unmistakable. For the first time in years, Seokjin was remembered. He was summoned to the palace, but not for a celebration. His second brother had been killed by an assassin, and now the crown, the burden no one had wanted for him, loomed over him like a dark cloud. It was only a matter of time before the same fate would befall him. That day marked the beginning of the end. The life Seokjin had once known, isolated as it was, crumbled beneath the weight of royal expectations. He had always been invisible, and now, as he was thrust into the center of attention, the dangers that came with it became impossible to ignore. It was then that everything began to fall apart more than ever. His thoughts drifted back to the scene before him, the laughter of children ringing hollow in his ears. The life he’d lived was nothing like this. There had never been joy, never peace. Only duty, betrayal, and the constant fear of what was to come. Then he felt a presence beside him. He glanced up and saw a familiar face. “Hoseok-ah,” Seokjin murmured. Hoseok’s radiant smile appeared instantly, the kind that always seemed to bring a bit of sunshine with it, no matter how dark things felt. "Hyung," he greeted warmly, sitting beside Seokjin without hesitation. "What are you thinking about so deeply?" Seokjin let out a soft breath, his gaze turning back to the water fountain. "My life. Everything that it’s been. It feels... endless sometimes, like I never truly had a moment to live for myself." His voice was low, filled with the years of weight he'd carried. Hoseok nodded, watching the water dance in the fountain. His presence, as always, was calming. "Life is like that sometimes. We think we’re bound to our pasts, our mistakes, but... there’s always a chance to correct them, hyung." He spoke gently, though his words carried a deeper meaning. "We can forgive each other, and ourselves, for the things we didn’t get right. And maybe, we can find room to love again." Seokjin’s eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion. "Forgiveness..." he repeated, as if testing the word on his tongue. "I’ve spent so much time carrying regrets, things I can’t undo. Can we ever truly fix our mistakes?" Hoseok leaned forward, his smile softening but not fading. "Sometimes, we can’t fix them. But we can try to heal from them. And sometimes, love—loving someone, or allowing ourselves to be loved—makes the weight of those mistakes a little lighter." Seokjin let Hoseok’s words settle over him like a gentle breeze. Love? He had long forgotten what it meant to truly love someone without the constraints of duty or expectation. His life had always been about serving others, leading others. Could there really be space for love in all of that? Hoseok’s eyes seemed to sparkle with hidden knowledge, though Seokjin had never been able to fully decipher him. "It’s never too late, you know," Hoseok added softly. "To forgive, to love, to allow yourself to make mistakes. Life doesn’t end with our failures; it begins with what we do after them." Seokjin sat silently for a moment, his thoughts heavy. But Hoseok’s words rang with a truth he hadn’t considered before. As if sensing his contemplation, Hoseok leaned back and smiled at the scene before them. "Life’s funny that way, hyung. Sometimes, the things we think are set in stone aren’t. Sometimes, the future has a way of surprising us." He said it with a playful glint in his eye, but there was an underlying seriousness to his tone. Seokjin looked at Hoseok, trying to read him, but as always, Hoseok’s cheerful exterior masked something deeper. He often wondered if there was more to the man than met the eye. "Life isn’t always as rigid as we think, Seokjin-hyung," Hoseok continued, watching the children play nearby. "Sometimes, we have to let things go, and let life... happen." Seokjin’s gaze softened. There was something comforting in Hoseok's words, even if he didn’t fully understand them. Hoseok, with his lightheartedness, always seemed to know the right thing to say. But this time, there was a sense of gravity beneath his cheerful demeanor, something that made Seokjin pause. He turned his attention back to the fountain. "It’s hard to let go when you’ve spent your whole life holding everything so tightly." Hoseok nodded gently, his smile never fading. "True. But maybe it's time you stopped holding on so hard. Maybe it’s time to trust what’s coming. You might be surprised by what—or who—awaits you." Seokjin frowned slightly, turning to study Hoseok. "You’re speaking as if you know something I don’t." Hoseok’s smile widened. "I don’t know anything more than you do, hyung. But I do know that you have more choices than you think. And that maybe, just maybe, the best parts of your life are still ahead of you." Seokjin looked at the fountain again, his mind swirling. As if reading his thoughts, Hoseok stood up, stretching lazily. "I should get going, It was nice to talk with you, hyung." He glanced down at Seokjin with that same bright, warm smile. "Just... remember what I said. It’s never too late to change, to forgive, or to love." Before Seokjin could ask more, Hoseok waved and walked away, leaving Seokjin alone with his thoughts. The weight of his life still pressed on him, but now, there was something else. Something lighter, a sense that maybe, just maybe, there was more to come. Something... or someone. ********************************************************************************* Namjoon sat at his desk, wearing nothing but gray sweatpants, his bare chest exposed to the cool air of his apartment. A half-empty coffee mug sat beside him, its aroma mingling with the smell of old books. His thick-rimmed glasses rested comfortably on the bridge of his nose, adding a certain intellectual charm to his already sharp features. The room was dimly lit, the glow of his desk lamp casting soft shadows over the open journal before him. His fingers tapped the keys of his laptop occasionally, but most of his focus was on the ancient document in front of him. This wasn’t just any journal. It was a royal chronicle, a collection of entries recorded by the Royal Historiographer, detailing the daily life of a king—his court discussions, decrees, meetings, ceremonies, and personal affairs. Namjoon’s goal today was simple: translate at least one page, perhaps more if he could push himself past the fatigue gnawing at him. He flipped the brittle page carefully, his eyes scanning the delicate handwriting. The ink had faded over the centuries, but it was still legible, each stroke of the brush capturing a moment in history. Namjoon reached for his phone, pulling up a reference for classical Korean, cross-referencing words and phrases he wasn’t completely familiar with. His eyes settled on the first passage: "On the tenth day of the third moon, under the great banner of the maguro, His Majesty the King Kim Seokjin at the age of 17, ascended to the throne, the heavens themselves bearing witness to the grand ceremony. As the sun reached its zenith, the drums of the court began to sound, calling forth the ministers, nobles, and envoys from foreign lands who gathered in humble reverence. His Majesty, clothed in robes of imperial silk, embroidered with the symbols of the dragon, took his first steps toward the throne. The air was thick with incense, the sacred fire burning at the altar of the ancestors." Namjoon paused, imagining the scene. The coronation of a new king would have been an event of unmatched grandeur. The procession would have been slow and deliberate, every detail designed to emphasize the divinity of the ruler. He could picture it—the golden robes, the ministers bowing low, the sound of the drums reverberating through the palace grounds.
"His Majesty, though young, bore the weight of the crown with grace. His first act as King was to bow before the royal ancestors, offering prayers and incense. The ministers, one by one, presented their ceremonial gifts, pledging their loyalty to the new ruler."
Namjoon leaned back in his chair, intrigued by the subtlety of the text. The author was careful to note not just the grandeur but the underlying tension in the room—the unspoken power struggles, the alliances being forged even as the king bowed to the ancestors. He could feel the weight of it, the unyielding expectations placed upon someone so young. He reached for his coffee, taking a slow sip as his eyes returned to the page. The journal was more than just a record of events; it was a window into the mind of the Historiographer, someone who had lived in the shadows of power, observing everything but never taking part. Namjoon found himself empathizing with that—he too was an observer, chronicling the past, trying to make sense of the moments that shaped history.
"The coronation concluded with a grand feast. Wine flowed freely, and the hall was filled with music and laughter, though His Majesty remained composed, his gaze distant as though already contemplating the many burdens to come. In this, the ministers remarked, he resembled his late father, Kim Ki Hoon"
Namjoon couldn’t help but admire the restraint in the writing. It was formal, yet filled with unspoken tension. The king’s youth, his composure, the way he was compared to his father—it all hinted at the immense pressure placed upon him. Namjoon knew that the real stories weren’t in the grand gestures, but in the quiet moments, the thoughts and fears that lurked beneath the surface. Just as he was about to delve deeper into the king's first decree, a loud, insistent beep broke the silence of the room. The reminder was clear: he had to stop translating and get ready for the museum visit with Seokjin. He quickly glanced around, ensuring that the pile of documents, including the intricate translation work, was tidied away. Taehyung might come across these notes, and he wanted to keep the details of his research discreet. With a swift motion, Namjoon grabbed his phone and typed out a quick message to Seokjin:
“Just wrapping up. I’ll meet you at the museum in 30 minutes. Looking forward to it.”
He hit send, Rushing to the bathroom, he took quick shower, the warm water washing away the remnants of his research fatigue. Once refreshed, he stepped out and dried off. Namjoon chose a casual yet stylish look that balanced comfort with a hint of flair. He donned a pair of relaxed, baggy brown jeans that allowed for easy movement. On top, he wore a loose-fitting, cozy white hoodie with a subtle logo, perfect for a laid-back yet polished appearance. The hoodie’s soft fabric and the jeans’ easy fit made him look effortlessly stylish, He glanced in the mirror, adjusted his tousled hair, and gave himself a satisfied nod. Namjoon grabbed his phone and keys, sending a quick message to Tae who has not come home yet:
“I’m heading out to meet Seokjin-ssi, don’t wait for me for dinner, take care”
With a final glance around his tidy apartment, he headed out, excitement bubbling up as he anticipated the event ahead. ***************************************************************************** The day had been a whirlwind for Taehyung and Jungkook. After a series of intense meetings and a lively lunch with the entire team—thanks to Jungkook’s generous treat—they were finally winding down. The lunch had been a hit, everyone appreciating the gesture and the food. Following the lunch, Taehyung and Jungkook headed to the stylist’s studio for the outfit selection for the upcoming commercial. Although the stylist had already chosen a few suits, Jungkook was determined to find the perfect one. “No, no, this won’t do,” Jungkook said, inspecting one of the suits critically. “Let’s try something else.” Taehyung, trying on several outfits, felt increasingly flustered as Jungkook rejected each option. It was evident to everyone that there was something more than just a professional interest between the two. “Jungkook, are you sure about these?” Taehyung asked, slightly exasperated. “The stylist picked these out for a reason.” “I know, I know,” Jungkook replied with a reassuring smile. “But I just want you to look absolutely perfect. Trust me on this.” Taehyung couldn’t help but blush at Jungkook’s insistence. Finally, after much deliberation, they settled on an outfit that both Jungkook and Taehyung were happy with. Just as they were about to wrap up for the day, Taehyung received a message from his hyung. “Looks like my hyung won’t be home for dinner,” Taehyung said, showing Jungkook the message with a slight frown. Jungkook’s expression softened, and he immediately offered, “Hey, why don’t you come over to my place for dinner? I’d hate for you to be alone.” Taehyung hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.” “Not at all!” Jungkook said with a grin. “I’ll cook for us. You don’t have to eat alone, and it’ll be nice to have some company.” Taehyung’s cheeks flushed as he thought about spending more time with Jungkook. “Okay, that sounds great. But I’ve been in these clothes all day. I should change.”Jungkook’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “You can borrow something from my closet. I’m sure we’ll find something that suits you.” Taehyung’s blush deepened, but he nodded. “Alright, I’ll take you up on that offer.” They quickly wrapped up the final tasks. As they were about to leave, Taehyung and Jungkook turned to the team and bowed, showing their appreciation for the day’s work and the support they had received. “Thank you, everyone!” Jungkook said with a warm smile. Taehyung added, “It’s been a pleasure working with you all. See you soon!” With final waves and goodbyes, Taehyung and Jungkook headed out of the building. Jungkook led Taehyung to his car parked outside. ****************************************************************************** The Royal Legacy Museum stood majestic under the afternoon sun, its classical columns casting long shadows on the pavement. Namjoon leaned casually against the entrance, his cozy attire highlighting his sharp, sophisticated appearance. As he checked the time on his watch, he couldn’t help but feel a nervous excitement flutter in his chest. This wasn’t just any outing—he had deliberately chosen this museum, for a reason. Just as Namjoon was lost in thought, a familiar figure appeared in the distance. Seokjin approached with an effortless grace, his simple but elegant outfit catching the light. He wore a soft pink t-shirt that accentuated his delicate skin, paired with dark-wash jeans that gave him a casual, yet refined look. Namjoon’s eyes couldn’t help but linger, admiring the way the soft color brought out Seokjin’s features—his high cheekbones, his sharp jawline, and those enigmatic, almond-shaped eyes. A strange warmth pooled in Namjoon’s chest, the attraction undeniable. There was something about Seokjin that was both alluring and mysterious, as though he carried secrets beneath his composed exterior. Namjoon couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to him, something hidden beneath that calm smile. “Seokjin-ssi!” Namjoon called out, his voice steady but with a hint of excitement he couldn’t quite suppress. “It’s great to see you.” Seokjin looked up, his soft expression brightening as he met Namjoon’s gaze. The way Seokjin’s lips curved into a subtle smile made Namjoon’s heart skip a beat. “Namjoon-ssi, am I late? I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” Namjoon shook his head, his smile widening as his eyes flickered over Seokjin’s figure. “Not at all. I just arrived. And by the way… you look absolutely beautiful as always.” Seokjin’s cheeks flushed, and for a moment, Namjoon thought he saw a flicker of shyness in the usually composed man. “Thank you, Namjoon-ssi. That’s very kind of you to say. And… you look quite handsome yourself.” Namjoon’s heart swelled at the compliment, and he gestured toward the museum entrance. “I’m glad you think so. Shall we head inside?” Seokjin nodded and Namjoon led Seokjin inside, keeping a close eye on him, waiting to see how he would react to the upcoming exhibits. The air was filled with the quiet murmur of other visitors, but in that moment, Namjoon felt as if it was just the two of them. They began their tour with a general overview of Korean history, and Namjoon couldn’t help but admire how seamlessly the conversation flowed between them. He pointed to various displays, explaining with passion, “This section covers early Korean civilizations. For instance, the pottery here shows the evolution of craftsmanship from the Three Kingdoms period to the Goryeo Dynasty.” Seokjin nodded, clearly engaged. “It’s amazing how much influence Korea had on other cultures, especially with the advancements in celadon pottery during the Goryeo Dynasty.” Namjoon smiled, impressed by Seokjin’s insight. “Exactly. The celadon was known for its delicate green glaze and intricate designs. It was highly prized in East Asia.” Seokjin’s eyes glimmered as he added, “Did you know the specific green glaze was created through a reduction process in the kiln? The potters had to carefully control the oxygen levels to get that perfect hue.” Namjoon blinked in surprise. “I didn’t know that. You really know your history. Have you studied this before?” Seokjin shrugged modestly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “I’ve always had a fascination with how things are made, especially when it comes to ancient craftsmanship.” Namjoon’s curiosity deepened. There was something about the way Seokjin spoke, like he knew more than he was letting on. His knowledge seemed too deep for someone casually interested in history, and Namjoon’s suspicions about Seokjin’s connection to the Kim dynasty grew stronger. As they moved deeper into the museum, they finally approached the section Namjoon had been waiting for—The Kim Dynasty: The Last of the Monarchs. A beautifully ornate plaque welcomed them into the exhibit. Namjoon noticed a slight change in Seokjin’s demeanor the moment they stepped inside. “This section,” Namjoon said, watching Seokjin carefully, “is dedicated to the Kim dynasty, which ruled Korea before the Han dynasty took over. I thought you might find it interesting.” Seokjin didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were glued to the portraits and artifacts displayed. His expression shifted—his usual calmness was replaced by a deep, almost melancholic contemplation. Namjoon observed him closely. The silence between them grew heavier, and he could feel the weight of unspoken thoughts swirling around Seokjin. Does he know something? Namjoon wondered, his suspicions edging closer to confirmation.Suddenly, someone passing by accidentally bumped into Seokjin’s broad shoulder, sending him off balance. Without thinking, Namjoon reached out, his arms instinctively wrapping around Seokjin’s slender waist, pulling him close. His other hand rested protectively on Seokjin’s shoulder as their bodies pressed together. The warmth of Seokjin’s skin beneath his clothes sent an unexpected jolt through Namjoon. Their faces were so close that Namjoon could see every detail—the delicate moles scattered on Seokjin’s cheek, the soft curve of his lips, and the way his eyelashes fluttered as his eyes closed. Seokjin sighed softly, as if hoping for something more, and Namjoon felt the electricity between them intensify. Namjoon’s heart pounded in his chest. For a brief moment, everything else faded—the museum, the other visitors, even his suspicions about Seokjin. All that existed was the man in his arms. “Are you okay?” Namjoon’s voice broke the spell, though it was barely above a whisper. Seokjin’s eyes fluttered open, and he quickly straightened, pulling away just slightly, though his cheeks were tinged with a rosy blush. “Yes, I’m okay. Thank you for catching me.” Namjoon hesitated before letting go, his hand lingering on Seokjin’s shoulder for a second longer than necessary. “You’re welcome,” he said softly, his gaze still fixed on Seokjin’s face, memorizing every detail. Seokjin glanced away, trying to compose himself. “I’m fine, really. It was just… surprising.” Namjoon chuckled, though his voice was still low. “It seems like you might be a bit tired. How about we grab something to eat? There’s a nice restaurant nearby. It could give us some time to relax.” Seokjin’s eyes softened, and for the first time since they entered the Kim dynasty section, the tension in his expression eased. “That sounds wonderful. I’d like that.”As they left the exhibit, Namjoon couldn’t help but glance back at the Kim Family tree, Seokjin was staring. There’s definitely something he’s not telling me, Namjoon thought, but for now, the mystery could wait. They had the rest of the evening ahead of them.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Seokjin wandered aimlessly through the streets, his feet dragging along the dirt paths as he clutched his tattered robe around his thin frame. He looked around, seeing nothing but blurry faces and indistinct voices that only reminded him how disconnected he was from the world of the living. Seven days. It had only been seven days since he was resurrected from the dead, but every moment felt like an eternity. His stomach growled—no, not out of physical hunger. He wasn’t alive anymore. But it was an emptiness, a gnawing void, that made him feel like he was starving, wandering through life like a beggar, unseen and unwanted. His reflection caught in the window of a shop, but instead of the regal figure he once was, Seokjin saw a shadow of himself. Hollow eyes, pale skin stretched thin over sharp bones, and a tired expression that didn’t belong to someone like him. He reached out, but the glass offered no warmth. He was lost, both physically and mentally. He passed by food stalls in the marketplace, the smell of grilled meat and fresh bread taunting him, though he knew he couldn’t taste it. Not anymore. His fingers brushed against the cold stone wall of a building as he leaned heavily against it, sighing. What kind of existence was this? A phantom with no purpose, no guidance, just floating through life like a shadow. As he continued his slow march through the town, Seokjin saw something in the distance—a girl, no older than twelve, running frantically toward an alleyway. Behind her, a man chased with a knife in hand, his intentions clear. Without thinking, Seokjin's legs moved faster, propelling him forward. His instinct to protect her kicked in, even though he wasn’t sure he could do anything in this new state of his. "Stop!" he called out, his voice weak, almost ghostly. He reached out to grab the girl, to shield her from the inevitable danger, but before he could, a figure clad in black appeared between them, blocking his path. “Don’t interfere with my work,” the figure warned, his voice sharp and cold. His eyes glowed faintly beneath the wide-brimmed hat that shadowed his face. Seokjin felt a shiver crawl up his spine as the man gave him a dangerous look, one that suggested meddling would have severe consequences. Seokjin took a step back, startled by the man’s pale, emotionless face. His presence was chilling, and Seokjin instinctively knew that this was no ordinary man. “Who are you?” Seokjin asked, his voice unsteady as his eyes flickered to the girl, still in danger. The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, Seokjin watched in horror as the girl collapsed lifelessly to the ground, her soul rising from her body and drifting toward the man in black as he pulled a leather-bound book from his sleeve. The man/demon dipped a feathered pen into ink that seemed to materialize from the air, marking the book with the girl’s name. “I am the Gatekeeper between the living and the dead,” the figure finally said, his voice calm and indifferent as he continued his work. “It is my duty to guide souls to the correct door. A moment ago, you were trying to disturb my duty by stopping the girl’s death with your powers.” Seokjin’s heart clenched at the sight of the girl’s soul being taken away. “Her death… but—” “Don’t meddle with the natural order,” the Gatekeeper warned, his eyes locking onto Seokjin’s with a dangerous glint. “This is beyond your control.” With that, the Gatekeeper floated into the air, the girl’s soul trailing behind him like a fragile thread. “You’ve only just begun to grasp what it means to be a phantom, yet you foolishly thought you could change fate. Stay out of my way.” Without another word, the Gatekeeper led her toward a glowing portal that appeared in the sky. Seokjin could only watch as the bright light enveloped them both, blinding him momentarily. This encounter stirred something within Seokjin—hope. For days, he had wandered with no purpose, no direction. Now, here was someone who clearly understood the balance between life and death. This Gatekeeper, though cold and distant, might be the key to understanding his own existence. “Wait!” Seokjin shouted, running after the Gatekeeper. He found him floating toward portal. Desperate, Seokjin grabbed the hem of the Gatekeeper’s black hanbok, pulling it in a plea. The portal closed.. Seokjin landed on the hard ground with a painful thud, the air knocked out of his lungs as he struggled to regain his bearings. He blinked, dazed, trying to make sense of where he was. The portal had spit him out like an unwanted guest, leaving him lying in the middle of a dimly lit room. Slowly, he pushed himself up, his palms scraping against the rough, cold stone floor. The room around him was small and cramped. The walls were made of uneven wooden planks, aged with cracks that allowed slivers of light to filter in from the outside. Cobwebs clung to the corners, and dust danced in the weak beams of light that penetrated the gloom. Above him, the low ceiling sloped unevenly, and beams of dark, gnarled wood stretched across it. A single lantern hung from a rusted hook, casting an eerie yellow glow that barely lit the room. Seokjin saw the Gatekeeper guiding the girl toward a door, this one glowing even brighter than before. As it opened, a blinding Red light filled the small space, momentarily blinding Seokjin as the girl’s soul disappeared into the light. The door closed with a soft click, and Seokjin was left in the eerie silence of the hut. “What did you do to that girl?” Seokjin managed to ask, pushing himself to his feet. His voice was laced with a mix of curiosity and defiance. “Where did you send her?” The Gatekeeper turned slowly, his expression unreadable. “I crossed her to the afterlife. Hell, if you must know,” he said flatly. “Why are you questioning me? And what are you doing in my office?” Seokjin blinked. “Your… office?” “Yes, my office,” the Gatekeeper replied, glancing around the small, dark space. “Now, unless you have a reason to be here, I suggest you leave.” Seokjin bit his lip. “I… I followed you. I have nowhere else to go. I’m hungry, and I—" His voice faltered as he admitted his weakness. "Aren’t we supposed to help each other? As… demons or whatever we are?” The Gatekeeper looked at Seokjin for a long moment, then sighed, his irritation barely hidden. “Seven hell, you are so annoying,” he muttered, waving a hand toward a worn-out chair in the corner. “Fine. Sit there. I’ll see what I can do.” Seokjin sat down gratefully, watching as the Gatekeeper disappeared through another door. Moments later, the Gatekeeper returned with a tray, the aroma of cooked rice filling the room. Seokjin’s mouth watered at the sight, his body trembling with the need to eat. The Gatekeeper placed the tray in front of him. “Here. Eat.” Seokjin’s mouth watered as he grabbed the bowl and began eating hungrily, shoveling the food into his mouth without stopping to breathe. He ate it all in one go, barely tasting it, just desperate to fill the void in his stomach. But before he could finish the last bite, everything around him blurred. His vision darkened, and the next thing he knew, he was unconscious. When Seokjin opened his eyes again, the Gatekeeper was kneeling beside him, fanning him gently. There was an odd look of concern on his face. “Oh, you’re awake,” the Gatekeeper said, his voice soft for the first time. “I thought you were… dead.” Seokjin chuckled weakly, sitting up slowly. “Well… I am dead.”For the first time, Seokjin saw the faintest smile tug at the corners of the Gatekeeper’s lips. “I’m Seokjin,” Seokjin said after a moment, his voice soft but grateful. “Thanks for the food. It… it meant a lot.” “I am Min Yoongi, Also It’s nothing,” the Gatekeeper replied with a shrug. “But I don’t think you can eat everything like that. We demons have become more… greedy after death. Only things you loved most in life can be consumed without consequence..” Seokjin blinked, his mind drifting back to memories of his old life. “Seafood…” he whispered. “I loved seafood.” ************************************************************************* The air between them seemed lighter as they reached the restaurant, a cozy little spot with a warm, inviting glow emanating from its windows. Namjoon opened the door for Seokjin with a quiet confidence, gesturing for him to enter. As they stepped inside, the smell of freshly grilled seafood filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of quiet conversation from the other patrons. A waitress guided them to a small table near the window, where they could see the sun slowly setting over the city skyline. Namjoon pulled out a chair for Seokjin, a subtle gesture that made Seokjin’s smile grow a little wider. “Thank you, Namjoon-ssi,” Seokjin said softly as he took his seat. “You’re welcome. Seokjin-ssi” Namjoon sat across from him, feeling a warm satisfaction at the comfortable rhythm they had fallen into. Breaking the quiet, Seokjin glanced sideways at Namjoon with a thoughtful expression. “You know, Namjoon-ssi, it feels strange keeping things so formal between us after today. We’ve met enough times now, don’t you think? You can just call me Seokjin... or Jin.” Namjoon’s lips curled into a gentle smile at the casual offer, feeling the weight of formality lift. “Seokjin,” he repeated softly, testing the name on his tongue as if it held a new kind of closeness. “Alright then, Seokjin, but only if you stop calling me Namjoon-ssi.” Seokjin’s eyes sparkled as he nodded. “Deal. Just Namjoon.” As they browsed the menu, the waiter brought over a few dishes that Namjoon had suggested—a variety of fresh seafood, from grilled mackerel to steamed clams and prawns also with meat and noodles. Namjoon, without a second thought, reached across the table to help Seokjin with some of the side dishes, filling his plate with just the right amount of food. It was a small, simple gesture, but it made Seokjin glance at him with quiet appreciation. “You’re quite thoughtful, Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin remarked softly, watching Namjoon’s movements with a slight smile. “It’s... nice.” Namjoon shrugged lightly, his gaze warm. “I enjoy doing small things for people I care about.” Seokjin glanced down at his plate, his heart fluttering at Namjoon’s sincerity. As they began eating, the conversation shifted to more light-hearted topics. Namjoon started sharing stories from his university days, recalling how he once got lost on campus and ended up in a lecture hall for an advanced physics course. “I sat there for thirty minutes, trying to look like I belonged,” Namjoon said with a grin. “But halfway through, the professor asked me a question about quantum theory, and I just... froze.” Seokjin laughed, covering his mouth. “Did you answer?” Namjoon shook his head, laughing. “I tried. I said something about ‘parallel dimensions’ and the whole class stared at me like I was an alien. The professor just sighed and asked me to leave.” Seokjin was laughing so hard that his shoulders shook. “I can’t believe you tried to blend in with a physics class. You should’ve just run the moment you realized!” “Where’s the fun in that?” Namjoon teased. “Besides, it gave me a story to tell you.”Seokjin smiled, his eyes softening as he looked at Namjoon. “You’re fun to be around. I didn’t expect this side of you.” Namjoon felt a slight blush creeping up his neck at Seokjin’s words. He leaned back in his chair, smiling at the relaxed atmosphere. “By the way, Seokjin... if you don’t mind me asking, when’s your birthday?” Seokjin looked at Namjoon with a slightly amused expression, as if he hadn’t expected the question. “4th December,” he answered with a small grin. “Why do you ask?” Namjoon chuckled, his tone teasing as he leaned forward slightly. “Well, I was just thinking—mine’s in September, so that means you’re younger than me.” Seokjin raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “Oh, is that what you think? Namjoon-ah, I’m older than you. Much older. You should show some respect to your elders.” Namjoon’s grin widened as he bowed his head playfully. “Ah, forgive me, Seokjin-nim,” he said, putting on a mock-serious tone. “I shall follow your every command with the utmost reverence, like a humble servant in the court of an ancient king.” He pressed his hands together and gave an exaggerated gesture of respect, mimicking an old-fashioned bow from Korea’s historical dynasties. Seokjin burst into laughter, the kind that made his shoulders shake and his eyes crinkle in that endearing way Namjoon had come to notice. “Now that’s how you respect your elders,” he teased, waving a hand in mock approval. Seokjin leaned back in his chair, his laughter fading into a soft smile. He felt lighter in Namjoon’s presence, like the world outside the restaurant had momentarily faded away, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble. There was something about Namjoon’s energy, the way he balanced intelligence with humor, that made Seokjin feel at ease—more so than he had in a long time. But as their conversation flowed, Seokjin’s thoughts occasionally wandered back to something Hoseok had told him not long ago. Love. The word had seemed distant and abstract at the time, but sitting here with Namjoon, something about it felt real, tangible even. He couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps Hoseok had been right. Maybe love wasn’t as far away as he’d thought. Namjoon, on the other hand, couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at Seokjin between bites of food. There was something so effortless about the way Seokjin held himself—the way he seemed so in control yet so unknowingly captivating. Namjoon found himself mesmerized by the smallest things: the way Seokjin smiled, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the soft, almost imperceptible way he tilted his head when he listened. Namjoon felt drawn to him in a way he hadn’t anticipated. The evening passed quickly, their conversation weaving in and out of topics both lighthearted and sincere. They shared stories about their childhoods, their aspirations, and the small quirks of everyday life. As the restaurant began to wind down, they finished the last of their meal, content and full. Outside, the air had grown cooler, and the city was quieter. Seokjin turned to Namjoon, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Thank you, Namjoon. This was... a really nice evening.” Namjoon stepped closer, his heart racing just a little. Without thinking too much about it, he gently leaned in and pressed a kiss to Seokjin’s cheek, his lips brushing softly against his skin. “Thank you, Seokjin,” he murmured, his voice warm. “I had a great time too.” Seokjin’s eyes widened slightly at the unexpected gesture, but his surprise quickly melted into a gentle smile. His gaze softened, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down around them. “I’ll see you soon, Namjoon,” Seokjin said, his voice barely above a whisper, but filled with warmth. Namjoon nodded, smiling widely. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” With that, they parted ways, the night stretching ahead of them, leaving behind the promise of something more, something unspoken but understood. The bond between them had deepened, and as they walked in opposite directions, each of them felt the warmth of the connection lingering long after they had said goodbye. ************************************************************************** Jungkook moved smoothly around the kitchen, his rolled-up sleeves exposing the muscles in his forearms. His tattoos peeked out from beneath the fabric, drawing Taehyung’s attention. Every movement Jungkook made, from chopping vegetables to stirring the sizzling pan, was done with a calm efficiency that only made him seem more attractive. Taehyung sat at the kitchen counter, his chin resting on his palm as he admired the view, feeling a giddy warmth spread through him. Jungkook was cooking pasta for them—creamy carbonara with a sprinkle of fresh herbs on top. The smell wafted through the apartment, making Taehyung’s stomach growl. But it wasn’t just the food that had Taehyung’s attention. It was the way Jungkook’s strong arms flexed as he stirred the sauce, the way the light caught the ink of his tattoos when he moved. Taehyung’s heart fluttered, finding the entire scene strangely...sexy. “You’re really something, you know,” Taehyung said, grinning as he watched Jungkook add the final touches to the dish. Jungkook glanced up, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Something? You mean like a good cook?” Taehyung chuckled. “That too. But more like...you just look really good right now.” Jungkook’s smirk widened as he plated the pasta and brought it to the table. “You’re just hungry, Tae. Here, try this.” He set the plate in front of Taehyung and took his seat beside him. As Taehyung took a bite, he couldn’t help but let out a small, satisfied hum. “Mm, this is amazing. Seriously, Jungkook, you could open a restaurant.” “I’ll stick to cooking for you,” Jungkook replied, stealing glances at Taehyung while they ate. They continued talking, Taehyung bringing up a new movie project his manager had proposed. “It’s an interesting script,” Taehyung said between bites, “but I’m not sure about the director. I’ve heard he’s difficult to work with.” Jungkook looked thoughtful. “Do you think it’s worth the trouble? The project, I mean.” Taehyung shrugged. “Maybe. The role is really appealing, but I don’t want to deal with unnecessary drama.” “I get that,” Jungkook nodded, his eyes on Taehyung as he chewed thoughtfully. “But you’re good at what you do. You’ll make it work if you decide to take it.” Taehyung smiled, appreciating the confidence Jungkook had in him. As they continued their meal, Taehyung’s phone buzzed with a message. He glanced down and saw a text from his hyung, Namjoon. Namjoon: Just got home. Where are you? Taehyung quickly typed a response: I’m at Jungkook’s. I’ll come after dinner. Jungkook noticed the brief distraction and pouted. “Who’s texting you that you forgot my food?” Taehyung looked up, flustered. “Oh, it’s just my hyung. He’s looking for me.” “Namjoon-hyung?” Jungkook asked, tilting his head. “Yeah,” Taehyung nodded. “He just got home. He’s been busy, you know, out and about. He even went out with Seokjin-hyung recently.” Jungkook’s expression shifted the moment he heard Seokjin’s name. His cheerful demeanor darkened slightly as his hands balled into fists under the table. Taehyung, oblivious, kept talking, but Jungkook’s mind was now elsewhere. The mention of Seokjin stirred something in him, and he knew exactly what he needed to do. He waited until they finished the meal, still holding onto his growing plan despite Taehyung’s light chatter. As Taehyung offered to wash the dishes, Jungkook let him, quietly watching from his seat. His thoughts whirled with an internal haze of jealousy and determination. As Taehyung scrubbed the plates, Jungkook subtly took out his phone and typed a message to Seokjin: Can you come now? Jungkook knew Seokjin would respond instantly, probably thinking something urgent had happened. That’s exactly what he wanted. This was his chance to make Seokjin feel what he had felt all this time. He stood from his seat and walked towards Taehyung, who was still at the sink, scrubbing away. Without warning, Jungkook slipped his arms around Taehyung’s waist, back-hugging him. Taehyung gasped in surprise, the dish slipping from his soapy hands and clattering into the sink. “Jungkook…” he murmured, his voice soft. “Hmmm?” Jungkook responded, his lips brushing lightly against Taehyung’s neck as he inhaled the faint scent of his cologne. “You smell nice, Tae…” Taehyung shivered, goosebumps rising on his skin. “I...uh...thanks.” Jungkook smirked and leaned in closer, placing gentle kisses along Taehyung’s exposed neck, sending shivers down Taehyung’s spine. Taehyung tilted his head slightly, turning his neck toward Jungkook, about to catch his lips when— A loud whoosh echoed through the room, and suddenly, Seokjin appeared, having teleported right in front of them. “Ahhh!” Taehyung screamed, jumping away from Jungkook in shock. Jungkook grinned internally, pleased. That’s right, hyung. You came at the perfect time. Seokjin blinked in confusion, looking from a startled Taehyung to Jungkook.“What...what’s going on here?” Seokjin stammered, his eyes wide. “Hyunggg..What are you doing here, at this late?” “You just texted me, I..I thought something is urgent..” Jungkook feigned innocence, his arm still around Taehyung. “Oh, hyung, I didn’t mean to text you. I was texting Jimin about some work stuff. I must’ve sent the message to you by mistake. Sorry about that.” Taehyung, still catching his breath, tried to calm down as Jungkook patted his shoulder gently. “It’s okay, Tae. It’s just Seokjin-hyung.” Seokjin’s eyes widened at the sight of Jungkook’s casual affection toward Taehyung. This wasn’t the Jungkook he knew—so openly affectionate and intimate. But he was happy if Jungkook is really into Tae.. He glanced between the two of them, something feeling off. He cleared his throat and apologized, “I’m sorry, Tae. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Taehyung nodded… “It’s okay hyung, I was j-just scared. Because …It was s-so sudden..” Jungkook gave Seokjin a mischievous look, his arm still draped around Taehyung. “It’s alright, hyung. I was just...distracted since Tae’s here. Maybe that’s why I got swap with Jimin’s name to yours..” Seokjin’s brow furrowed slightly as he dared to look at Jungkook. “Next time, watch who you’re texting, you brat.” With that, Seokjin disappeared into thin air. Jungkook felt a wave of victory wash over him. His plan had worked. Seokjin saw him with Taehyung, and now the regret would set in. As Taehyung leaned his head against Jungkook’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of their closeness, he smiled softly, unaware of the storm brewing in Jungkook and Seokjin’s minds. For him, everything was just...perfect. **************************************************************************** Seokjin sat at his dressing table, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light on his reflection in the mirror. Even as a ghost, he meticulously kept up his nightly skincare routine, making sure his face appeared as handsome and radiant as ever. A small smirk played on his lips as he picked up a tiny glass bottle of serum, unscrewing the cap and carefully pressing a few drops into his palm. With graceful movements, he gently patted the serum onto his face, massaging it in slow circles. His fingertips traced the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones, gliding over his nose and forehead. Seokjin admired his reflection, a perfect blend of ethereal and beautiful, even if his existence wasn’t entirely alive. But tonight, as his hands worked through the motions, his thoughts wandered. The museum date—it was a date, wasn’t it? Namjoon had hinted at it. The way Namjoon had looked at him, spoken to him, made him feel like it was something more than just a casual outing. Seokjin bit his lip, remembering how Namjoon’s strong arms had wrapped around his waist when he almost fell. For a brief, foolish moment, Seokjin had thought Namjoon was going to kiss him. His pulse had quickened, and he’d closed his eyes, waiting for the moment. But it never came. “I must have been stupid to think he’d actually kiss me,” Seokjin muttered to his reflection, his lips twisting in mild self-deprecation. But as he pressed more serum into his skin, he couldn’t deny it anymore—he wanted Namjoon to kiss him. He wanted to taste those plump lips, maybe not as full as his own, but just as tempting. And that dimpled smile… how could anyone resist? Seokjin had always prided himself on his own beauty, but Namjoon had a quiet charm that stirred something deep in him. A sigh escaped his lips, his thoughts taking a darker turn. The family tree. His father's name was there, grand and proud, but his? His name wasn’t written beneath it. He had been erased from his own history, as if his existence were nothing but a shameful memory, like he was some ugly, cursed dead body. In some ways, that wasn’t too far from the truth. A shadow passed over Seokjin’s heart, a reminder of the curse that haunted him. He shook his head, forcing himself out of that dark place. What was he doing? Acting like a teenager with a crush, going on dates, indulging in fantasies about Namjoon, when he had a much more serious mission. His murderer was here, somewhere, and he needed to focus. He needed to talk to Taehyung immediately and stop getting distracted by… by these feelings. Then there was Jungkook. Seokjin couldn’t help but smile, recalling his brief visit to Jungkook’s apartment earlier. He had noticed the vibe between Jungkook and Taehyung, their attraction palpable. The way they had moved together, almost like a matching couple—maybe Jungkook was finally moving on. Seokjin was happy for him if that was the case, but something in his gut made him wonder if Jungkook wasn’t doing something bratty behind the scenes. “This brat,” Seokjin muttered under his breath with a fond smile, “I hope he’s not causing trouble.” Just as Seokjin stood from the dressing table, his phone pinged. He glanced at the screen, and his heart did something strange—it fluttered, as if it were alive. A message from dimple professor—Namjoon. Namjoon: Did you get home safe? Seokjin's breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, the curse, his mission, everything seemed to fade. All that mattered was this message, this simple line from Namjoon. His fingers danced over the keyboard as he typed back. Seokjin: Yes, I did. Thanks for checking on me. A moment later, another ping. Namjoon: Is it okay if I call you now? Seokjin stared at the screen, his lips curling into a soft smile. He quickly typed his response. Seokjin: Sure, go ahead. The phone rang seconds later, and Seokjin’s heart raced as he answered. Namjoon’s deep voice filled the quiet room, and Seokjin felt an inexplicable warmth spread through him. “Hey,” Namjoon said, his tone easy but with a hint of something deeper. “I just wanted to hear your voice.” Seokjin chuckled, leaning against the back of his chair. “Flirting with me, Professor? At this hour?” “Maybe,” Namjoon teased. “Is that so bad? You’re always on my mind lately.” Seokjin bit his lip, feeling a thrill at Namjoon’s words. “You should be careful with your words, Namjoon. I might start thinking you’re serious.” “I am serious,” Namjoon replied, his voice soft but sure. Seokjin leaned back in his chair, the phone pressed to his ear as he heard Namjoon's soft breathing on the other end. He decided to break the silence with something light before they delved into anything too serious. “Sure you are… So, Professor,” Seokjin teased, his lips curling into a smile, “did you have fun today? Or was it just a history lesson for you?” Namjoon chuckled softly, his voice low but playful. “I’d like to think it was more than just a history lesson. I mean, how often do I get the chance to go to a museum with someone like you?” “Oh? ‘Someone like me’?” Seokjin raised an eyebrow, even though Namjoon couldn’t see him. “What does that mean exactly?” “You know what it means,” Namjoon replied smoothly. “A handsome, charming, slightly mysterious guy who knows how to make museum trips way more fun than they should be.” Seokjin laughed, the sound light and melodic. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Namjoon.” “It’s not flattery if it’s true,” Namjoon shot back, his voice warm with sincerity. “You… you really do make everything feel different. Like today, when you almost fell, I—” “Oh, that.” Seokjin groaned, covering his face with his hand, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Don’t remind me. I thought I was about to make a complete fool of myself.” “You didn’t,” Namjoon reassured, his voice softening. “You were graceful, even in that moment. Besides… I liked holding you.” Seokjin felt his breath catch, his chest tightening at Namjoon’s words. The memory of Namjoon’s arms around his waist, steadying him, sent a warmth flooding through him again. He cleared his throat, trying to play it off casually. “Well, you should’ve warned me if you were planning to catch me. I might’ve swooned properly.” Namjoon laughed softly. “Next time, I’ll make sure to give you a heads-up.” Seokjin leaned his head back against the chair, his smile widening. “Good. I need a proper warning before any swooning happens.” “I’ll keep that in mind,” Namjoon teased. There was a brief pause before his voice took on a more curious tone. “Did you… enjoy it? Today, I mean. Being with me?” Seokjin hesitated, his fingers tracing the edge of the dressing table. “It was nice. Really nice, actually.” He paused, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. “It’s not every day I get to hangout with a hot professor.” The word hung in the air between them for a moment, and Seokjin bit his lip, wondering if he’d overstepped. But Namjoon’s soft reply put him at ease. “A hot professor, huh?” Namjoon’s voice was gentle, teasing but with a hint of something more. “I like the sound of that.” Seokjin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “You do?” “Yeah,” Namjoon admitted, his voice a little quieter now, more serious. “It is flatter me Seokjin...” Seokjin’s heart fluttered again, but this time, it felt different—heavier, more real. He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the moment, “Namjoon… what are we doing?” The question caught Namjoon off guard, and the easy laughter faded from his tone. “What do you mean?” Seokjin shifted in his chair, his fingers playing with the edge of his sleeve. “I mean… this. You and me. It feels like we’re doing more than just… hanging out.” Namjoon was quiet for a moment, and Seokjin could almost feel him choosing his words carefully. “I thought you liked spending time with me,” Namjoon said softly. “Like I said, I really enjoy being with you. But if I’m reading this wrong, Seokjin, I—” “No, no,” Seokjin quickly interrupted, his heart squeezing at the thought of Namjoon feeling hurt. “It’s not that. I really like being with you, Namjoon. Talking with you, eating with you, everything. It’s just… I don’t know what this is. I’ve very small friend circle, and now you’re here, in my life, and I don’t know where to put you.” Namjoon’s voice was quiet, but steady when he replied. “Put me wherever you want, Seokjin. Just… don’t push me away.” Seokjin’s breath caught at Namjoon’s words, a chill running down his spine as goosebumps rose on his skin. There was something so raw, so honest in Namjoon’s voice that it left him speechless for a moment. After a beat of silence, Seokjin drew in a breath and spoke, his voice soft yet steady. “Namjoon,” he began, his gaze searching the other’s eyes. “You’re not something I can put anywhere, like a piece to fit neatly into my life.. You’ve been the chaos I didn’t know I needed, the warmth I didn’t realize I was craving.” He paused, a faint, bittersweet smile curling his lips. “I’ve tried to figure out where you belong in my world, but maybe… maybe the truth is, you belong everywhere. Wherever I turn, there you are. And I don’t want that to change.” Seokjin’s voice grew softer, almost a whisper. “So, don’t worry. I’m not pushing you away. I wouldn’t even know how. All I know is… I want you close.” Without realizing it, something tender began to bloom between them—a quiet bond growing in the spaces their words couldn't reach, leading them somewhere unknown yet undeniably theirs.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Jungkook's car idled quietly in front of Taehyung's apartment building, the faint hum of the engine filling the comfortable silence. The soft glow of the streetlight illuminated their faces, and Jungkook leaned slightly against his seat, his eyes fixated on Taehyung. “Thanks for driving me home,” Taehyung said, his voice soft and warm, a small smile tugging at his lips. Jungkook chuckled, his deep voice sending a shiver down Taehyung’s spine. “You don’t have to thank me every time, you know. I’d drive you anywhere, Tae.” The sincerity in his words made Taehyung’s cheeks flush, and he bit his lip, looking down at his hands. Jungkook reached over, his fingers brushing against Taehyung’s. Taehyung glanced up, meeting Jungkook’s gaze. The intensity in Jungkook’s eyes made his heart race. “I don’t want to let you go just yet,” Jungkook whispered, leaning closer. Taehyung’s breath hitched as Jungkook’s hand cupped his cheek, his thumb brushing against the soft skin. Their lips met in a gentle kiss that quickly deepened, Jungkook’s other hand slipping around Taehyung’s waist to pull him closer. Taehyung melted into the kiss, his hands clutching Jungkook’s shirt as he lost himself in the moment. When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling.“Goodnight, Jungkook,” Taehyung murmured, his voice barely audible.“Goodnight, Tae,” Jungkook replied, his tone filled with unspoken promise. Taehyung opened the car door and stepped out, giving Jungkook one last lingering look before making his way to the entrance of his building. As he climbed the stairs and entered his apartment, a soft smile lingered on his lips. Pushing the door open, Taehyung froze in surprise. There on the couch sat Namjoon, his phone pressed to his ear, a shy smile lighting up his face. He laughed softly at something the person on the other end said, his dimple making an appearance. Taehyung couldn’t help but feel warmth spread through his chest at seeing his hyung like this—so happy, so unguarded. Quietly, Taehyung tiptoed over and placed a gentle kiss on Namjoon’s head. “Goodnight, hyung,” he whispered, causing Namjoon to jolt in surprise, his cheeks reddening. “Yah, Taehyung-ah!” Namjoon exclaimed, trying to suppress his flustered smile as Taehyung waved him off and headed to his room. Closing the door behind him, Taehyung leaned against it, his heart still light from Jungkook’s kiss. A soft blush crept onto his cheeks as the memory replayed in his mind—the way Jungkook's lips had felt against his own, the warmth of his touch, and the tenderness hidden behind the intensity of the kiss. Taehyung pressed his fingers to his lips, as if trying to capture the sensation again. “Aish, what’s wrong with me?” he murmured, his voice tinged with embarrassment. He giggled softly, shaking his head at himself. His stomach fluttered at the thought of Jungkook’s gaze, how deep and full of emotion it had been. “Jungkook-ah, you’re going to drive me crazy,” he whispered, his smile widening. His heart raced as he pushed off the door, walking toward the bathroom. In the bathroom, he turned on the shower, letting the sound of water fill the small space. As the steam rose, Taehyung found himself lost in thoughts of Jungkook again. He could still feel the weight of Jungkook’s hands on his waist, the gentle yet firm way he had pulled him close. Taehyung placed a hand over his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat. “He’s...so different,” Taehyung murmured, stepping into the shower. The warm water cascaded over him, soothing and grounding him as his mind replayed the moments in the car. The way Jungkook had whispered his name, the way he’d looked at him like he was the only person in the world—it all felt so overwhelming, but in the best way. Taehyung smiled to himself as he lathered the soap, humming a soft tune. He was still shy about the kiss, but a part of him felt giddy, like a teenager experiencing his first love. As he rinsed off and stepped out, wrapping a towel around himself, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His cheeks were still flushed, his eyes sparkling with the joy of the evening. “Pull yourself together, Taehyung-ah,” he muttered, shaking his head with a grin.Once he was dried off and dressed in his pajamas, Taehyung padded to his bed, his hair still slightly damp. He flopped onto the mattress, pulling the blanket up to his chin. That’s when his thoughts shifted, the playful giddiness giving way to a more serious tone. He thought about Namjoon, his hyung, and the shy smile he’d seen on his face earlier. It wasn’t often that Namjoon looked so carefree, so openly happy. Taehyung’s smile softened at the memory. His hyung deserved happiness more than anyone else, but...his thoughts darkened slightly. Could Seokjin really give that to Namjoon? Taehyung turned onto his side, staring at the wall. “Hyung looks like he’s head over heels,” he whispered. “But...Seokjin hyung…” The concern gnawed at him. Could someone like Seokjin, with whatever secrets he seemed to carry, truly be with a human like Namjoon? The thought of Namjoon getting hurt, of his hyung’s heart breaking, was unbearable. With a resolute sigh, Taehyung sat up slightly, his hands clutching the blanket. “I need to talk to Seokjin hyung,” he decided. “I need to know if he’s serious about Namjoon hyung, and if they can even be together.” The resolve settled in his chest, but as Taehyung lay back down, his mind flickered briefly to Jungkook again. A small smile returned to his lips, and he pressed his fingers to them one more time. “Tomorrow,” he whispered, letting his eyes drift shut. “Tomorrow, I’ll figure it out. For hyung’s sake.” With that, Taehyung let sleep take over, his thoughts a mixture of Jungkook’s kiss and his determination to protect Namjoon’s happiness. ************************************************************************ The soft morning light filtered through the curtains of Namjoon’s study, casting a warm glow on the scattered books and papers covering his desk. He sat hunched over the journal, deeply immersed in the research he had been tirelessly working on for weeks. His laptop sat open to the side, various tabs containing historical texts, online archives, and ancient documents. The robe he found was folded neatly nearby, now fully examined. Next to it, lay the carbon-dating report he had just received. Namjoon glanced at the document again, his brow furrowing slightly. "400 years ago." He muttered to himself, tapping his pen against the desk. The fabric dated back centuries, aligning perfectly with the mysterious events recorded in the journal he was translating. Yet, despite all the leads, there was still no direct link to a King Kim Seokjin in any historical records. Namjoon leaned back in his chair and sighed, rubbing his temples. His mind was buzzing with unanswered questions. He reached for his phone and dialed his assistant, hoping to gain more clarity. After a few rings, his assistant picked up. "Good morning, Namjoon-ssi." “Morning,” Namjoon greeted, his voice laced with the familiar weight of concentration. “I need you to pull up all the records related to the Kim family tree from the archives at Seoul National University. Anything regarding the monarchy, particularly around the 17th century. This King Kim Seokjin, there’s nothing on him. I need to confirm if he ever existed.” His assistant paused for a moment before replying, “I’ve already checked our most accessible records, but I’ll dig deeper. From what we’ve found so far, there’s no reference to a King Kim Seokjin in any official records.” Namjoon leaned forward, resting his elbow on the desk, eyes narrowing. “That’s what I thought. But the more I go through this journal and other findings, the more it seems like this man existed. There’s something strange going on.” “I’ll get back to you as soon as I can with more details on the family tree. Anything else you need?” Namjoon glanced at the carbon report again. “That robe I mentioned—turns out it’s from around 400 years ago. Cross-check that era with any unexplained gaps in royal history or unusual mentions in cultural records. Something’s missing.” “Sir, it was the time when the Han dynasty took over the Kim monarch, But the takeover is well documented. It was clear that after King Kim Ji Hoon, the kingdom was unstable and King Han Ji-sung took the crown. But history can have gaps and I’ll get right on it,” the assistant promised before hanging up. Namjoon leaned back, exhaling slowly. His thoughts raced. No King Seokjin? Yet, the journal told a different story. Shaking off the lingering questions, Namjoon turned his attention back to the journal, flipping carefully to the next page. He picked up where he left off, the old ink scratched across the worn paper.
“Two months into the king's reign, unrest began to stir in the kingdom. King Kim Seokjin’s trust was shattered by a betrayal most grievous. The court had whispered for weeks of a traitor among us, but none could have predicted that it would be one of His Majesty’s most loyal advisors, Lord Seo, who had served by his side since childhood.
Lord Seo, a man of grace and wisdom, had been the King’s closest confidant—so trusted that no royal secret was hidden from him. Yet it was Lord Seo who, in secret correspondence with the Han envoys, sought to weaken the throne from within. He passed them information regarding our army’s movements, our stores of grain, and even the King’s strategies for peace. In return, he was promised power in the new regime once the Kim dynasty fell.”
Namjoon felt a chill run down his spine as he imagined the magnitude of the betrayal. He paused, staring at the ancient script, trying to picture the scene as the historian had seen it unfold.
“When the betrayal was uncovered, it was His Majesty himself who ordered the investigation. For days, he refused to believe it could be true, but as more letters were intercepted, the evidence was undeniable. Lord Seo had sold his loyalty for nothing more than whispered promises of power from the Han.
The King’s heartbreak was known to all who witnessed the trial. Even as Lord Seo stood before him, chains around his wrists, the King’s voice trembled not with anger, but with sorrow. The man who had once been like a brother to him had driven a blade into his back—metaphorically, and soon, literally.
Lord Seo knelt before the court, unrepentant, even as the King gave him one final chance to speak the truth. His silence was a confirmation of his guilt, and His Majesty, though heavy with the weight of his decision, ordered the execution.”
“The execution was carried out swiftly. On the morning of the winter solstice, the courtyard of the royal palace was cold and still. His Majesty, clad in the robes of mourning, stood with his head held high, though his eyes betrayed the grief within. Lord Seo, once the brightest star in the King’s inner circle, was led to the center of the courtyard.
He knelt without resistance, his hands bound, his face expressionless. The courtiers and the common people watched in stunned silence as the blade was raised. Some say the King turned his head at the final moment, unable to watch the death of the man he had once called friend.
The sword fell swiftly. Lord Seo’s head rolled across the stone, and with it, the last thread of the King’s trust in those closest to him.
After the execution, His Majesty retreated to his chambers and was not seen for many days. The court was left shaken, for though the traitor was dead, the King’s heart had grown colder.”
Namjoon’s pen hovered over his notebook, ready to jot down his observations. It became clearer: King Kim Seokjin had faced immense internal struggles, potentially erased or overshadowed by the eventual rise of the Han dynasty. Namjoon scribbled down the key points, his mind racing with possibilities.
Ascended the throne at age 17
Royal banner symbol: Maguro (ancient tuna)
Loves to eat Fish dumplings, salted and fermented seafood, often made from shrimp, oysters
Was into celadon pottery, collecting them as a hobby.
Execution of Lord Seo
Robe carbon-dated to 400 years ago
Final days of the Kim dynasty erased: The transition to the Han dynasty may have been far more complicated than history records.
Namjoon tapped his pen against the final note, his brow furrowed. The more he uncovered, the deeper the mystery seemed to grow.Yet, as much as Namjoon’s mind was immersed in unraveling the past, his thoughts kept circling back to someone far more present in his life: Seokjin. He couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of familiarity, the uncanny resemblance between the Seokjin he knew and the King Seokjin from the journal. How could they both have the same face, the same striking features? Certain things hadn’t gone unnoticed by Namjoon—small details that most might overlook. For one, both Seokjin and the ancient king shared a peculiar fondness for seafood, particularly dishes like fermented shrimp and fish dumplings. And then there was the matter of celadon pottery. Namjoon still vividly remembered the casual conversation they'd had when Seokjin mentioned, with surprising knowledge, the intricacies of celadon glaze and its historical significance. How could Seokjin—a man who rarely spoke of history—know so much about pottery, a hobby that was, coincidentally, also King Seokjin’s passion? He exhaled slowly, rubbing his eyes as he remembered their last conversation. "Don’t push me, Seokjin," Namjoon had said. Namjoon sighed, shaking his head as if to clear the memory from his mind. Why was he thinking about Seokjin now, of all times? There was something about Seokjin that made him feel unsteady, something that drew him in even when he tried to maintain distance. The way Seokjin looked at him, like he was seeing something deeper than what Namjoon himself could understand—it left him unsettled. But was it just that? Or was it more? The journal, the research, the mysteries surrounding Seokjin—they were all beginning to blur in Namjoon’s mind. He had always prided himself on his logic, his ability to stay grounded. But with Seokjin, things weren’t so clear. Namjoon wasn’t sure if he was chasing answers from a journal or chasing something he wasn’t ready to admit to himself. He opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. "What are you doing to me, Seokjin?" he muttered softly. "Why can’t I just figure this out?" Namjoon wasn’t used to feeling this conflicted. He was always the one in control, the one who knew where he stood. But with Seokjin, it was different. Everything felt uncertain—exciting, yes, but also dangerous. And the more he tried to resist it, the more it pulled him in. With a soft sigh, Namjoon sat up, running a hand through his hair. His heart was still racing, his thoughts a tangled mess of feelings and questions. He glanced once more at the robe, the journal, the traces of a forgotten king whose story he was uncovering. Maybe, just maybe, uncovering the past would help him make sense of the present. But for now, all he knew was that Seokjin had become far more than a fleeting thought in his mind. He wanted this mysterious yet alluring man to be his. And that scared him more than anything else. *********************************************************************************The early morning air was crisp. Seokjin found himself sitting on a familiar park bench, a steaming cup of hot chocolate clasped between his hands. Across the pathway, a couple stood under the sprawling branches of an old oak tree. Their hands intertwined, the kind of touch that spoke of comfort and belonging. Seokjin's gaze lingered on them, his chest tightening. He wanted that. Not just with anyone—but with Namjoon. The realization settled over him like the soft weight of the morning mist. It was strange, almost absurd, how vividly he could picture himself in the man’s place, Namjoon smiling at him like the woman smiled at her lover. He took a slow sip of his hot chocolate, the sweetness doing little to ease the bitterness that had crept into his thoughts. His mind replayed the professor's words from last night, ones that had left him restless and wandering this morning. “Namjoon,” he whispered under his breath, his voice barely audible, but the name tasted sweet on his tongue, like the hot chocolate warming his insides. Lost in his thoughts, Seokjin found himself staring at the spot where the couple had stood, hoping—perhaps foolishly—that one day it could be him and Namjoon. Not just stolen moments of closeness or fleeting glances, but a real connection. A love, that he had never experienced in his human life. He remembered that day she came to his life. The courtyard of the palace was transformed into a sea of vivid red and gold, the colors of prosperity and unity. Guests adorned in hanbok lined the pathway, bowing low as Seokjin walked solemnly towards the ceremonial pavilion. The heavy crown atop his head weighed more than just physically—it was a constant reminder of how swiftly his life had transformed. The young man who once cherished freedom was now a king, bound by responsibilities he never sought. And today, he was marrying a woman he had never met. When the bride appeared, the courtyard seemed to collectively hold its breath. Her veil, finely woven with golden threads, obscured her face, and she moved with a grace that seemed practiced, almost mechanical. Her hanbok mirrored Seokjin’s in its intricacy, though the colors were softer—a deep sapphire blue that symbolized harmony. She was led by her attendants, her every movement carefully choreographed as she approached the pavilion. The bride and groom bowed deeply to each other, exchanging the reverence dictated by the occasion. When the time came to lift the veil, Seokjin hesitated for a heartbeat before revealing her face. She was beautiful. Her large eyes with unique double eyelid, met his fleetingly before they lowered, a hint of fear or perhaps shyness flitting across her expression. Seokjin couldn't decipher it. He nodded faintly as the ceremony continued, feeling like a spectator in his own life. Seokjin barely registered the applause of the court as the ceremony concluded. They were now husband and wife. King and queen...The chamber was dimly lit, the soft glow of paper lanterns casting warm patterns on the silk-draped walls. The room smelled faintly of sandalwood and lavender, the air heavy with expectation. Seokjin sat on the edge of the low wooden bed, his posture stiff. He hadn’t changed out of his ceremonial robes, the dragon embroidery shimmering faintly in the lantern light. The queen entered hesitantly, her soft steps barely audible over the sound of her breathing. She had removed her elaborate wedding headdress, her hair now loosely tied, and she was wrapped in a simpler silk hanbok. She paused near the door, her fingers clutching the edge of her sleeves nervously. Seokjin glanced up, his expression unreadable. "You can come in," he said softly, though his tone lacked warmth. She moved closer, stopping a few feet away from him. “Do you require anything, Your Majesty?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Seokjin,” he corrected, his eyes meeting hers briefly. “Just call me Seokjin when we’re alone.” Her lips parted as if to say something, but she hesitated, nodding instead. “Seokjin,” she repeated, the name foreign on her tongue. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t have to be so formal. Sit down.” She obeyed, perching on the farthest edge of the bed, There was a long silence. She seemed to be searching for something to say, her hands fidgeting with the sash of her gown. Finally, she asked, “Is there anything you would like tonight? Perhaps some music? Or... I could pour you wine?” Her voice was laced with hesitation, as though she feared disappointing him. Seokjin shook his head. “You don’t have to do all that,” he said. “I know this isn’t what you wanted either.” She flinched slightly at his words but quickly masked it with a small, strained smile. “It’s my honor to serve you, Your Maj—Seokjin.” “This... this marriage wasn’t your choice, was it?” She shook her head, her gaze fixed on her hands. “No, but it’s my duty.”Her words felt rehearsed, and Seokjin noticed the slight tremble in her voice. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Look at me,” he said. She hesitated before lifting her eyes to meet his. They were wide and expressive, holding a mixture of fear and determination. “I don’t have feelings for you,” Seokjin said bluntly. “At least, not now. I don’t know if I ever will.” She looked down, her fingers tightening on the fabric of her dress. “I understand,” she said softly, Her lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I didn’t expect you to feel anything for me. But I promise to do my duty as your queen.” The sadness in her tone was impossible to miss. For the first time that night, Seokjin felt a pang of guilt. He studied her face more closely, noticing the delicate curve of her jaw, the soft sheen of her hair, and those eyes—so large and filled with unspoken emotion. “I...” He hesitated, then reached out to gently cup her cheek. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She blinked, startled by the unexpected tenderness in his voice. “You didn’t,” she lied, her lips curving into another faint smile.“You’re... gentle,” he murmured, almost to himself. “And your eyes...” He trailed off, leaning in slightly. Her breath hitched as his lips brushed against hers, tentative at first. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. The kiss deepened, and Seokjin felt her yield completely, her earlier nervousness melting away. He pulled her closer, his movements more certain now. She responded with equal fervor, her hands gripping the fabric of his robes as if seeking reassurance. “Are you afraid of me?” he asked against her lips. “No, I just... I don’t want to disappoint you.” she whispered, her hands trembling. Her honesty caught him off guard. He kissed her again, this time with more fervor, and she yielded completely. Her arms wrapped around him, her earlier nervousness melting away. The lanterns burned low, casting their entwined shadows on the silk-draped walls, and the room was filled with the quiet moans. ************************************************************************ Taehyung was on his knees. again.. The daylight was blinding, the harsh rays mercilessly illuminating the barren courtyard. The crowd encircled him, their faces etched with pity and resignation, yet not a single voice spoke out. The air was heavy, stifling, and he could feel every bead of sweat sliding down his temple. His breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps, and his chest tightened as though bound by invisible chains. His trembling hands clutched his stomach protectively, though he couldn’t understand why. His entire being screamed of fear and confusion. The world around him was a distorted blur, the faces of the onlookers melting into shadowed masses. But one figure stood clear in the periphery—a man clad in royal robes, the deep hues of crimson and gold striking against the pallor of the day. His presence was commanding, yet his face was obscured by the shadows cast from his ceremonial headpiece. From the corner of his eye, Taehyung saw the executioner standing several paces away. The man’s grip on the sword was firm, the blade polished to a cruel shine as it reflected the unforgiving sun. The sight sent a cold wave of dread through Taehyung’s spine. Then came the footsteps. The sound of boots against stone echoed ominously, slow and deliberate. Taehyung’s gaze darted frantically, seeking the source, but his vision wavered. The footsteps grew louder, each one like the toll of a bell, until the figure in royal robes stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Taehyung’s breath hitched. “Pyeaha,” a whisper called out from somewhere deep in his mind. The word was both a plea and a lament, its meaning slipping away like water through his fingers. It was then he noticed his own hands. They were coated in blood. The crimson stained his pale skin, dripping onto the ground in thick, sluggish rivulets. He stared in horror, the metallic scent filling his nostrils. The blood wasn’t just on his hands—it was spreading, pooling around his knees, seeping into the cracks of the stone beneath him. “No,” Taehyung whispered, his voice weak and hoarse. A sharp, searing pain exploded through his chest. And then—Taehyung jolted upright in his bed, his body drenched in sweat. He gasped for breath, clutching his chest where the ghost pain still lingered. His heart hammered against his ribcage, and his trembling hands instinctively moved to his stomach, half-expecting to find the blood from his nightmare. But there was none. The room was bathed in the soft light of morning, the warm glow in stark contrast to the cold dread that clung to him. Taehyung’s chest heaved as he struggled to steady his breathing. “What... what was that?” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. He gripped the edge of the blanket, his mind racing. This wasn’t the first time. The dream—or whatever it was—had plagued him for weeks now. Each time, it grew more vivid, more painful, more terrifying. But was it really a dream? The fear, the burn, the suffocating pain—he felt it all as though it were real. Too real to be dismissed as mere imagination. Taehyung’s fingers clenched into fists. He sat there, frozen, trying to make sense of the chaos in his mind. The figure, the blood, the voice that called out Pyeaha—what did it all mean? Why did it feel like more than just a nightmare? He ran a shaky hand through his hair, the strands damp with sweat. Slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his feet on the cold floor, grounding himself. he stared blankly at the floor, one thought echoed louder than the rest. Was it a dream? Or was it a memory? He rubbed his face, trying to shake off the unease, but it clung to him like a shadow. The more these dreams came, the clearer they became, as if they weren’t dreams at all but memories forcing their way into his mind. “I need to see hyung,” he whispered to himself, the words barely audible. Namjoon always had a calming presence, his steady demeanor like an anchor in a storm. If anyone could ease his mind, it was Namjoon. Without bothering to fix his disheveled hair or change out of his loose pajama shirt, Taehyung padded down the hallway toward Namjoon’s room. He stopped outside the door and hesitated for a moment before knocking softly. “Hyung?” he called out, his voice still laced with sleep. When no answer came, he frowned and knocked again, louder this time. “Namjoon-hyung?” The silence made his stomach twist. Pushing the door open cautiously, he stepped inside, peering into the room. “Hyung?” he called again. The faint sound of water running reached his ears, and relief washed over him. Namjoon was in the bathroom. The rhythmic sound of the shower echoed softly through the room. The room smelled faintly of books and fresh ink, mixed with the earthy scent of his hyung’s cologne. Taehyung sighed, letting himself relax a bit. His eyes wandered around the room, taking in the familiar mess. Books were piled precariously on the desk, loose papers strewn across the surface in a chaotic sprawl. He smiled to himself, shaking his head. Aish, this hyung... so clumsy. How does he even work like this?As he moved closer to the desk, his gaze caught on something unusual—a partially unrolled scroll. The intricate details of its bottom half caught his eye—a rich, flowing robe with a distinctive pattern etched into the fabric. His heart stilled for a moment, the familiarity of the design sending a chill through him. The intricate embroidery, the tuna patterns—it was unmistakable. It was the same. The robe. The same one from his nightmare. Taehyung’s breathing quickened as he leaned in closer, his fingers hovering over the edge of the scroll. He had to see more, to know who this person was. Why did Namjoon have this? What was this connection to his haunting visions? Just as he reached out to unroll the scroll further, the bathroom door creaked open. “Taehyung-ah?” Namjoon’s voice was sharp, startled. Taehyung spun around, eyes wide. Namjoon stood in the doorway, his damp hair clinging to his forehead, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Both of them froze, caught in a moment of awkward silence. “What are you doing?” Namjoon finally asked, his voice tinged with shock.Taehyung stepped back from the desk, trying to compose himself. “Hyung, I… I was looking for you,” he said, his tone light but his mind racing. Namjoon’s eyes flickered to the desk, specifically to the scroll, and he moved swiftly. Grabbing the scattered papers, he began stacking them haphazardly, rolling up the scroll with deliberate care. His movements were calm, but Taehyung noticed the tension in his hyung’s posture. “Sorry about the mess,” Namjoon said, his tone awkward as he busied himself with organizing the desk. “I was working late last night. Didn’t get a chance to clean up.” Taehyung forced a casual smile, hiding his curiosity. “No worries, hyung. I wasn’t snooping or anything..” Namjoon cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s nothing important. Just research.” He quickly diverted the conversation. “So… why were you looking for me?” Taehyung hesitated, then shrugged. It’s clear that his hyung is hiding something and for now Taehyung doesn’t want to bother Namjoon with more questions. “I’m..I’m hungry” Namjoon’s expression softened, “Oh…Tae…Didn’t Jungkook feed you last night properly…. Come on, let’s get out of here. I will make something to eat.” “You, cooking?” Taehyung raised an eyebrow, the tension breaking slightly.Namjoon grinned sheepishly. “Okay, maybe not cooking. More like ‘attempting to put something edible together.’” The brothers exchanged a laugh, the earlier awkwardness dissolving as they headed to the kitchen. **************************************************************************** A sharp ping from Seokjin’s phone pulled him back to the present. His heart leapt as he fumbled to unlock it, hoping, aching for it to be Namjoon. But the name on the screen read Taehyung. Seokjin exhaled, his heart slowing but softening at the sight. A fond smile crept onto his lips as he opened the message.
"Hyung, can we meet today? I have something to discuss."
Seokjin’s smile faltered. His dead heart felt a pang of nervousness. Was Taehyung finally going to talk about the sword? Seokjin’s hands shook slightly as he stared at the screen, the weight of unspoken truths pressing down on him. Taking a deep breath, he composed his reply.
"Sure, come. I’’ll cook lunch for you."
He sent the message and sat back, his thoughts whirling. Whatever it was, he would face it head-on. For Taehyung—and for the past he couldn’t seem to escape.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The royal garden was bathed in the golden hues of the late afternoon sun, casting a warm glow over the vibrant flowers and gently swaying trees. King Seokjin strolled along the cobblestone path with his queen by his side, her laughter ringing like the chiming of delicate bells. She had discarded her formal demeanor, revealing a bubbly, light-hearted nature that never failed to brighten their moments together. Seokjin, who had grown accustomed to the weight of his crown, found himself smiling more often in her presence.
As they walked, the queen paused to admire a particularly enchanting view of the koi pond framed by a grove of cherry blossoms. "This is so beautiful!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with inspiration. She pulled out a small sketchbook she always carried, her delicate fingers working quickly to capture the scene. "You know," she said, glancing up at Seokjin, "I think drawing scenery like this helps me see the world in a new way. Even the tiniest details have their own story." Seokjin watched her with quiet fascination, the sunlight catching in her hair and illuminating her face, her enthusiasm contagious.
Seokjin chuckled softly as she adjusted her sketch, smudging a line with her thumb. "You’re quite talented," he said, his tone warm but laced with admiration. "Perhaps one day, I want to see myself through your eyes." The queen looked up at him, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of pride and shyness. They continued their walk, her sketchbook tucked under her arm, and Seokjin felt a rare sense of peace in her company. The bond of friendship they had nurtured was unexpected but genuine, a refreshing reminder of the simpler joys hidden amidst the grandeur of their royal lives.
************************************************************************ Namjoon leaned back against his desk, a playful pout forming on his lips. “So my brother is more important than me, huh?” he teased, his voice dripping with lighthearted mockery. Seokjin's laugh echoed from the other side of the phone. “Joon-ah… You know that’s not true…” he said, his tone a mix of amusement and mock offense. Namjoon bit his lip, a soft smile creeping up on his face as his dimples appeared. He could hear Seokjin's voice as clear as if he were standing right in front of him, and it made his heart flutter. "Joon?" Namjoon asked, his voice soft, almost uncertain. “Yeah... Joon. Why, can’t I call you as I want?” Seokjin asked, the teasing evident in his voice. Namjoon imagined the way Seokjin would be pouting on the other end, and for some reason, the image made his pulse quicken. He could almost picture Seokjin’s lips, the ones he now found himself always imagining kissing. Namjoon chuckled softly. “Okay, okay, Mister Handsome. You can call me anything you want.” Seokjin’s voice shifted, embarrassment creeping in. “I’m gonna hang up. You’re just teasing me…” “Don’t you dare,” Namjoon replied in a serious tone, his voice lowering slightly. He could almost feel the tension between them, the light teasing mixed with something more. There was a brief silence on the phone, and then Seokjin's voice came through, softer than before. “Joon, can I see you tonight?” Namjoon’s heart skipped. “Yeah, Let’s go somewhere. I’ll come and pick you up,” he said, the words feeling as natural as breathing. Seokjin hesitated, then asked, “Where are we going?” “Mmm, let me surprise you,” Namjoon teased, a playful edge to his voice. Seokjin let out an exaggerated groan. “You meanie…” he muttered, but Namjoon could hear the smile in his voice. Namjoon chuckled, his mood light, but there was a depth in his tone that couldn't be hidden. “I can’t wait to see you, Jin.” “Me too…” Seokjin responded, and there was a shift in the air between them, something unspoken that lingered. Their playful banter had softened into something more serious, more intimate. It felt like they were teenagers with crushes, but it was much more than that. Seokjin’s voice became softer, quieter. “Tae will be here in a minute. I’ll call you back, Joon-ah…” “Yeah, feed my brother a lot,” Namjoon said, wanting to hear Seokjin’s giggle before the conversation ended. It was one of those little sounds he always found himself wanting to hear more of. Seokjin laughed, a playful, fake annoyance in his voice. “Yeah! You still haven’t tasted my food. If you did, you’d be just like Tae—coming here every day for it.”Namjoon smiled, his chest light. “Okay, okay… I’ll yield.” They both burst into laughter, and for Namjoon, it was the most comforting sound he’d heard in a long time. It felt right, hearing Seokjin laugh like that. “I’m gonna hang up for now for real,” Namjoon said, though there was a reluctance in his voice. “I’ll come and pick you up at six. Bye, Seokjin.” “Bye, Joon-ah…” Seokjin’s voice lingered, the sweetness still hanging in the air as the call ended...The smell of freshly cooked kimchi stew filled Seokjin’s luxurious but cozy kitchen. Taehyung sat at the counter, happily munching on a plate of japchae that Seokjin had prepared earlier. His eyes sparkled with delight as he chewed. “Hyung, you’re amazing at this,” Taehyung said between bites. “Why aren’t you running a restaurant yet?” Seokjin laughed softly, ladling himself a bowl of stew. “Because I’d have to cook for people every day. Do you know how exhausting that would be?” Taehyung chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Fair point. I’d still eat at your restaurant every day, though. This japchae is heaven.” Seokjin settled into a seat opposite Taehyung, watching him with a faint smile. For a moment, the atmosphere was light and warm. But then, Seokjin remembered Taehyung’s earlier text. The thought of their impending conversation weighed heavily on his mind. Clearing his throat nervously, he asked, “So, Taehyung, what did you want to discuss with me?” Taehyung put his chopsticks down, wiping his mouth with a napkin. His expression turned serious. “It’s about my hyung.” Seokjin’s heart skipped a beat. “Namjoon?” he asked, voice tinged with fear. “Did something happen to Joon?” Taehyung quickly shook his head. “No, no, Jin-hyung, nothing like that.”Relief washed over Seokjin, but it was short-lived. “Then what is it?” he asked, trying to stay calm. Taehyung hesitated for a moment before speaking. “It’s just… I’ve noticed something. Something going on between you and Namjoon-hyung. Especially him. When he talks about you, he looks so dreamy.” Seokjin blinked, caught off guard. Taehyung continued, “I’ve never seen him like this before. My hyung was always into books. Romance was never his thing. But now… he’s different.. It’s like he’s a kid with his first crush.” Seokjin opened his mouth to respond, but Taehyung held up a hand. “Don’t get me wrong. I like seeing him like this. He is happier. But I need to ask you, Jin-hyung. Where do you want to lead this? Do you feel the same way?” Seokjin felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He hadn’t expected Taehyung to confront him like this, let alone with such perceptiveness. He stared at his bowl of stew, his thoughts swirling. “I…” Seokjin started, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know yet. But what I do know is…” He hesitated, then looked Taehyung in the eye. “I want that hot, tall nerd in my life.” Taehyung chuckled softly, his expression softening. “That’s a start.” But then his face grew serious again. “Hyung, I’m not pressuring you, but… Namjoon-hyung doesn’t know, does he? That you’re not human?” Seokjin froze, his hand tightening around his spoon. Slowly, he shook his head. “No,” he admitted meekly. Taehyung sighed. “I think you should tell him before this goes any further. Hyung has the right to decide whether he wants to be with you or not.” “I know,” Seokjin said quietly, his voice trembling. “Don’t take me wrong, Jin-hyung,” Taehyung added gently. “I really like you. You’re a good person. But I can’t let my hyung get hurt because of something he doesn’t know.” “I’m sorry,” Seokjin whispered, his voice filled with guilt. “It was never my intention to hurt Namjoon. I’m just… scared.” “Scared of what?” Taehyung asked softly. “Scared he’ll reject me if he knows the truth,” Seokjin admitted, his eyes glistening. “Scared to lose what little we have right now.” He took a shaky breath. “But you’re right. I can’t let him stay in the dark. He deserves the truth.” Taehyung reached out, placing a comforting hand on Seokjin’s. “Whatever happens, hyung, I’m here for you. And I know Namjoon-hyung will appreciate your honesty.” Seokjin nodded, though his heart felt heavy. “Thank you, Tae, It means a lot” he said softly. The two sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their conversation settling in the room. “Hyung, can a phantom be with a human?” Seokjin blinked, caught off guard by the question. He hesitated for a moment before answering, “Umm… I think so? I really don’t know exactly..It’s just that I’m immortal for now. Other than that, I have everything a human has, I guess.” He ended his explanation with a low chuckle, almost as if he were laughing at himself. Taehyung chuckled too, but his curiosity hadn’t waned. “So, what makes you stop being immortal?” he asked, tilting his head. At that, Seokjin’s eyes widened slightly. He fumbled for words, his fingers tapping the edge of his plate nervously. “Oh, that…” He sighed, his lips curving into a sad grin. “I think… it’s on my own terms? I’m not entirely sure myself.” “I See..” Taehyung nodded slowly, though it was clear he didn’t fully understand what Seokjin meant. He decided not to press further. Instead, he leaned forward, his expression softening. “Hyung, promise me something.” “What is it?” Seokjin asked, tilting his head. “Promise me that you won’t hurt Namjoon-hyung,” Taehyung said earnestly, his voice almost a whisper. Seokjin’s gaze softened. He reached out and placed a hand over Taehyung’s, his touch firm yet reassuring. “I swear to any deity out there, Taehyung, I have no intention of hurting him,” he said solemnly. Then, with a faint, almost playful smile, he added, “I promise you—it’s a king’s word.” Taehyung tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his wide eyes. “Oh, you were a king?” he asked, his voice rising in amazement. Seokjin’s eyes widened at his own slip of the tongue, and he playfully smacked Taehyung’s arm. “Yah, don’t go spreading rumors,” he muttered, clearly flustered. “You’ve never told me about your past, hyung,” Taehyung pressed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are you really a king?” Seokjin groaned, rubbing his temples dramatically. “It’s a story for another time,” he deflected. “Hyunggggg,” Taehyung whined, his voice turning sweet and pleading, “I really want to know about ancient kings!” “Why?” Seokjin teased, raising an eyebrow. “Are you dreaming of becoming a king yourself?” Taehyung’s expression shifted instantly. His usual playful demeanor darkened, his face growing more serious. “I’m dreaming about a king,” he said quietly, his tone heavier. The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of Taehyung’s words settling between them. Seokjin’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean, Tae?” he asked cautiously. Taehyung sighed, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve. “I don’t know, hyung,” he admitted. “I’ve been having the same dream for years. At first, it was just vague—nothing I could really hold onto. But lately… it’s been getting clearer.” “What do you see?” Seokjin asked, his voice soft but steady. Taehyung hesitated, his gaze dropping to his lap. “Not every detail,” he began slowly. “But I see a king. A grand palace. And then… blood. On my hands.” He looked up, his eyes meeting Seokjin’s. “Then I wake up. Every time. I can’t tell this to Namjoon hyung,” Taehyung said, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’ll only worry more, and I don’t want that for him.” He paused, glancing at Seokjin with hesitant eyes. “I’m telling you because… I’m sure you’ve seen more than this in your long life. You might understand better than anyone else.” Seokjin studied him, his mind racing. Yes, he thought silently. I have seen more than this in my long life. Far more than you could imagine.But aloud, he simply said, “Dreams can be strange, Tae. Sometimes they’re just dreams. Sometimes… they mean more. What kind of person do you see, Tae? Can you describe him to me?” Taehyung tilted his head, thinking deeply before answering. “He’s wearing a royal robe… but there’s this pattern on it. A tuna fish. That detail stood out the most.” The words hit Seokjin like a thunderclap. Heat surged through his body, his mind racing. That robe. The one Taehyung was describing—Seokjin knew it well. It had once been his favorite. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as a chilling realization began to form. Could Taehyung be… the one? His murderer?But why? Seokjin swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay composed. He couldn’t scare Taehyung—not now. Not when he needed answers. Masking his inner turmoil with a small, encouraging nod, Seokjin asked, “Tae… what else do you see?” Taehyung hesitated, “I see people, but they’re all blurry. I can’t make out their faces. Then…” He paused, his voice trembling. “I look down at my hands, and they’re covered in blood. It’s terrifying, hyung. Every time I see it, I wake up in terror.”His voice cracked, and his tired eyes glistened with unshed tears. As he looked at Taehyung’s tearful eyes, a strange sense of familiarity washed over Seokjin. It was as if he had seen those sorrow-filled eyes somewhere before—long ago, in a memory that refused to surface fully. Without thinking, Seokjin moved closer and wrapped his arms around Taehyung, pulling him into a firm yet gentle hug. The embrace was instinctive, a response to the younger man's pain. “It’s okay, Tae,” Seokjin whispered, his voice soft yet laden with emotion. “You’re not alone.” Taehyung melted into the hug, his trembling hands clutching the back of Seokjin’s shirt as if seeking solace. But as he held the younger man, a sharp pain shot through Seokjin’s chest. His breath hitched, and he clenched his jaw, trying to endure it. The pain grew unbearable, and with a shaky exhale, he released Taehyung and clutched his chest. “Hyung?” Taehyung asked, alarmed, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?” Seokjin waved a hand dismissively, forcing a weak smile. “Nothing, Tae. I’m fine.” He eased himself into a chair, his breathing shallow as he tried to regain control. Taehyung’s worried gaze lingered, but Seokjin quickly redirected the conversation. “This dream… I can’t tell much from it right now,” he said, his voice steadier. “But promise me, Tae. If you see more—if anything changes—you’ll tell me.” Taehyung nodded, though his expression remained troubled. “I will, hyung.” The silence that followed was thick and heavy, filled with unspoken thoughts and questions. Seokjin’s mind churned as he pieced together what he could, while Taehyung sat quietly, haunted by his recurring nightmares. ************************************************************************** Jungkook stared at the text from Seokjin, his lips pressing into a thin line.
"I won't be home this evening, Kook-ah. Let's meet another time."
The polite reply was casual, even affectionate, but to Jungkook, it felt like a brush-off. He tossed his phone onto the desk with a sigh of frustration, running a hand through his hair. He’d found out from Taehyung earlier that Seokjin was spending the day with him, hanging out and even cooking for him. It stung. Seokjin couldn’t find time for Jungkook, but he had all the time in the world for Taehyung. And tonight? Jungkook didn’t need to be told. He was sure Seokjin was going on another date with Namjoon. Even though Seokjin hadn’t mentioned it outright in his text, Jungkook could feel it in his gut. That professor—Namjoon—was becoming a thorn in his side. He hated the way Seokjin’s life was slowly being entwined with Namjoon’s, shutting Jungkook out. His frustration bubbled over, and he crushed the paper Starbucks cup in his hand. The coffee Jimin had thoughtfully brought him spilled slightly, but Jungkook didn’t care. He couldn’t focus on the pile of documents waiting for him on his desk. His mind was a whirlwind of jealousy and rage.
The Kim brothers.
They were ruining his peace. With a sharp inhale, Jungkook grabbed his phone and quickly typed a message, his thumb moving furiously across the screen.
"Let's meet at my apartment."
The reply came almost instantly, as though Taehyung had been waiting for it."I'd love to" with a red heart emoji. Jungkook smirked, though there was no warmth behind it. His jaw tightened as he stared at the screen. If Seokjin and Namjoon thought they could sideline him, they were sorely mistaken. He wasn’t going to let the Kim brothers disrupt his life without a fight. ************************************************************************ The doorbell rang exactly at six. Seokjin, adjusting the collar of his soft cream blazer in the mirror, glanced toward the door. He exhaled softly and walked to open it. As the door swung open, Namjoon stood there, his figure tall and imposing against the dimming evening light. His dark suit was simple yet elegant, tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders and lean frame. But Namjoon wasn’t focused on himself. His breath hitched when he saw Seokjin.Seokjin looked radiant. His cream blazer was paired with a light blue shirt, unbuttoned just enough to hint at his smooth collarbones, and tailored trousers that elongated his frame. His dark hair was styled softly, a few strands brushing against his forehead, and his skin seemed to glow under the golden hour light.Namjoon blinked, as though trying to commit the sight to memory. “You’re stunning,” Namjoon finally said, his voice husky, betraying the lump in his throat. Seokjin’s lips curved into a teasing smile. “And you’re late,” he said, even though they both knew Namjoon wasn’t. Namjoon chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m sharp on time. Come on, we have a reservation.” Seokjin grabbed his phone, slipping on his watch before joining Namjoon. As they walked to the car, Namjoon stole glances at Seokjin, his heart thudding harder than he cared to admit. The drive was peaceful, the hum of the engine blending seamlessly with the soft instrumental music playing in the background. Namjoon’s hands gripped the steering wheel firmly, his posture relaxed but his mind slightly preoccupied. His gaze kept darting toward Seokjin, who was gazing out the window, the city lights reflecting softly in his eyes. Seokjin seemed lost in thought, the corners of his lips faintly upturned as he watched the world rush past them. The comfortable silence between them was soothing, but Namjoon couldn’t help breaking it. “You look like you’re deep in thought,” Namjoon said, glancing at him briefly. Seokjin turned his head slightly, meeting Namjoon’s eyes. “I’m just trying to guess where you’re taking me. You’ve been so secretive about it.” Namjoon chuckled, his dimples appearing. “It’s called building suspense. Don’t you like surprises?” Namjoon grinned, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. “Oh, it involves food, don’t worry. And a view I think you’ll love.” Seokjin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A view? Now you have my full attention.” “Good,” Namjoon said, glancing at him again with a playful glint in his eyes. “That was the plan.” Seokjin chuckled softly, his voice light. “You’re getting better at this, Professor. Planning dates, I mean.” Namjoon’s grip on the wheel tightened slightly, though his expression remained calm. “I’ve had good inspiration lately,” he said, his tone quieter but sincere. Seokjin tilted his head, a hint of curiosity in his gaze. “Is that so? Who’s been inspiring you?” Namjoon smiled, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “I think you already know.” Seokjin blinked, his cheeks tinged with a soft blush. He turned his head back toward the window, pretending to be fascinated by the city lights. Namjoon didn’t press further, but the air between them felt warmer, charged with unspoken words. Namjoon’s eyes lingered for a moment too long on Seokjin’s lips. They were soft and full, curling slightly in a relaxed smile as he gazed out the window. Namjoon swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. His gaze dipped lower, drawn to Seokjin’s long neck, the elegant curve catching the light just right. His Adam’s apple bobbed subtly as he shifted in his seat, and Namjoon couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering further—to the tantalizing hint of collarbone peeking out from beneath Seokjin’s shirt. Namjoon gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying to keep his focus on the road, but his mind was racing. What does he smell like? Namjoon wondered. Probably something clean and alluring, like sandalwood and citrus, with just a hint of something uniquely Seokjin. He gulped again, his knuckles whitening as he realized his thoughts were dangerously close to veering into uncharted territory. “You know,” Seokjin’s voice broke the silence, light and teasing, “it’s not safe to stare at your passenger while you driving, Professor.” Namjoon startled, his eyes snapping back to the road. “I—I wasn’t staring,” he stammered, his ears turning red. “Really?” Seokjin drawled, tilting his head to the side, his smirk unmistakable. “Because it sure looked like you were admiring something.” Namjoon exhaled sharply through his nose, fighting the urge to sink lower into his seat. “I was just—uh—checking to make sure you were comfortable.” “Comfortable?” Seokjin leaned closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t uncomfortable… until now. Is there something on my neck, or were you just… admiring?” Namjoon groaned softly, his embarrassment mounting. “Seokjin…” “Relax, I’m just teasing,” Seokjin laughed, his voice light and musical. “But next time, you might want to be a little more subtle.” Namjoon could only shake his head, his lips twitching in reluctant amusement. “You’re impossible, you know that?” Seokjin leaned back in his seat, a satisfied grin on his face. “And yet, you keep looking.” Namjoon didn’t reply, but the faint smile tugging at his lips gave him away. The rest of the drive passed in comfortable silence, though Namjoon kept his gaze firmly on the road, lest he give Seokjin more ammunition. As the car neared the coastline, the city’s bustling glow gave way to the serenity of the ocean. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing faintly reached their ears. Namjoon slowed the car, pulling into the parking lot of Honey Beach, a charming luxurious villa nestled along the shore. Seokjin’s eyes widened as he stepped out of the car. The venue was breathtaking. Lanterns lit the pathways that led to a terrace adorned with twinkling fairy lights, the ocean stretching endlessly in the background. The salty breeze was refreshing, carrying with it the calming sound of rolling waves. “Joon-ah,” Seokjin breathed, his voice filled with awe. “This is… perfect.” Namjoon walked around the car to stand beside him, his hands sliding casually into his pockets. “I hoped you’d think so.” Seokjin turned to face him, his lips curling into a smile that made Namjoon’s heart stutter. “You’ve outdone yourself.” Namjoon cleared his throat, gesturing toward the terrace. “Shall we?” They walked side by side, the soft glow of the lanterns reflecting in Seokjin’s eyes. As they reached their table, positioned with an unobstructed view of the moonlit ocean, Seokjin couldn’t help but lean slightly on the railing, taking in the beauty of the scene. “This place feels magical,” Seokjin said softly, the breeze playing with his hair. Namjoon took his seat but couldn’t take his eyes off him. “It is,” he said, though his gaze wasn’t on the sea—it was entirely on Seokjin. Catching Namjoon’s stare, Seokjin turned to sit down, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You’re staring again, Professor.” “Can you blame me?” Namjoon shot back smoothly, a rare boldness in his tone. Seokjin laughed, a sound so light and genuine that it seemed to blend with the ocean breeze. “You’re quite the charmer tonight, aren’t you?” “I’m just being honest,” Namjoon said, his dimples deepening. Their conversation flowed effortlessly as they looked over the menu. Seokjin’s face lit up as he read through the seafood options. “They have everything I love. This is perfect.” Namjoon smiled warmly. “Order whatever you want.” When the waiter arrived, Seokjin chose deep fried prawns along with grilled mackerel with garlic butter sauce, while Namjoon, not a fan of seafood, opted for a classic ribeye steak with roasted vegetables. “Too bad, I’m not sharing my prawns.” Seokjin teased as the waiter left. Namjoon shrugged with a small laugh. “Watching you enjoy it will be worth it.” Seokjin’s cheeks warmed, and he looked away for a moment, grateful for the dim lighting. “You really are something, Namjoon.” After the food arrived, they start to eat in comfortable silent. The warm glow of the restaurant lights made the moment feel even cozier. They dug in, sharing stories and laughter between bites. Seokjin's playful jabs about Namjoon’s “safe and predictable” choice of grilled chicken made Namjoon chuckle, while Namjoon retaliated by teasing Seokjin about his animated love for seafood. “You’re munching like a hamster,” Namjoon remarked, his voice fond as he watched Seokjin take big, eager bites of his food. Seokjin puffed his cheeks out in mock indignation, still chewing. “Excuse me? Hamsters are adorable. I’ll take that as a compliment.” Namjoon couldn’t suppress his grin. “It definitely was,” he said softly, his eyes lingering on Seokjin a moment longer than necessary. That’s when Namjoon noticed a streak of white sauce at the corner of Seokjin’s lips. Without thinking, he reached out, swiping his thumb across Seokjin’s mouth to clean it. The action was so natural, so unbidden, that it wasn’t until Namjoon licked the sauce off his thumb without thinking that much. Seokjin froze, his eyes wide as he stared at Namjoon. The sight of Namjoon’s tongue swirling over his thumb felt unreasonably sensual, and Seokjin felt heat rise to his face. He gulped down the food he’d been chewing, but it went down the wrong way, and he began coughing. “Jin!” Namjoon said, alarmed, as he quickly handed over a glass of water. “Are you okay?” Seokjin nodded vigorously, waving a hand as he sipped the water, trying to regain his composure. He didn’t trust his voice, not after what he’d just witnessed. His eartips were burning, and he was sure his face was as red as the spicy dish in front of him. “I’m okay,” he muttered, his voice slightly hoarse. “Just… too much food.” Namjoon smiled, his dimples making an appearance, and Seokjin’s heart skipped a beat. Gosh, those dimples again. “The food’s not going anywhere,” Namjoon said gently, his tone carrying that soft, protective edge that made Seokjin’s stomach flip. “Eat slowly, alright?” Before Seokjin could respond, Namjoon reached over again, this time with a serviette, to wipe away a stray drop of water from Seokjin’s chin. The touch was careful, deliberate, and unbearably tender. Seokjin was speechless. His mind was a whirlwind, his chest tight with emotions he couldn’t name. He badly wanted to tell Namjoon the truth. That he wasn’t the person Namjoon thought he was. That beneath the facade of charm and elegance was an immortal being—a phantom cursed to roam this world, burdened by the weight of an unsolved past and the relentless search for his murderer. Namjoon deserved to know the truth, but the fear of what might follow kept Seokjin silent. What if those dimples—the ones that softened Namjoon’s serious demeanor and made Seokjin’s heart race—disappeared? What if the truth destroyed everything? Seokjin swallowed hard, his throat dry with the weight of unspoken words. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing the warmth in Namjoon’s gaze or the unspoken affection that lingered between them. The truth was cruel, but the possibility of Namjoon’s rejection felt unbearable.For now, all Seokjin could do was hold onto the fragile moments they shared, pretending that his lies didn’t cast shadows over their growing bond. Pretending that, somehow, the truth wouldn’t shatter the delicate connection between them.But deep down, he knew. The longer he kept the truth hidden, the sharper the pain would be when it inevitably came to light. So he just muttered a small thank, his voice almost a whisper. Namjoon’s smile widened, his gaze warm as he settled back in his chair. “Anytime.”Seokjin returned to his food, but his appetite felt secondary now. His thoughts were entirely consumed by Namjoon—the way his dimples made his heart race, the unexpected intimacy of his actions, and the overwhelming kindness in his every gesture. It was all too much, yet not enough. After dinner, Namjoon suggested a walk along the beach. Seokjin eagerly agreed, and they stepped off the terrace onto the cool sand. The moonlit waves lapped gently at the shore, the breeze carrying the fresh scent of the sea. As they walked, their fingers brushed accidentally, sending a spark through both of them. Seokjin hesitated for a moment, his heart racing, before slipping his hand around Namjoon’s. Their fingers intertwined naturally, like puzzle pieces fitting perfectly into place. Namjoon’s fingers immediately tightened around Seokjin’s, his grip firm and reassuring, as if he had been silently hoping for this moment all along. Though Namjoon stood only an inch or two taller than Seokjin, his presence felt immense, like a towering tree offering shade and comfort. Walking beside him, Seokjin felt a mixture of safety and awe. His gaze drifted to Namjoon’s side profile, soft yet defined under the pale light of the moon. Seokjin’s eyes lingered on the gentle slope of Namjoon’s button nose, an oddly endearing feature that sparked the sudden urge to reach out and squish it. A fond smile crept onto his face as his thoughts wandered. "And…who's staring now?" Namjoon's rough, teasing voice pulled Seokjin from his reverie. Blinking, Seokjin realized they had stopped walking. The soft crash of the waves filled the silence as he turned to find Namjoon fully facing him, his dark, expressive eyes locked onto Seokjin’s face. “Seokjin,” Namjoon said softly, his voice hoarse and raw. The sound of his name, spoken with such intensity, made Seokjin’s chest tighten. For a brief, irrational moment, he feared the worst—that Namjoon was about to let him go, even though they weren’t officially together. Namjoon stepped closer, gently taking both of Seokjin’s hands in his own. His touch was light, almost reverent, as though he feared breaking something fragile. “I... I know this is sudden,” Namjoon began, his deep voice wavering slightly. “We’ve only really spent time together for what, two weeks? But I don’t care about that. I need to tell you how something, even if it’s too soon. If you don’t feel the same way, or if you need more time, I understand—” “Joon!” Seokjin interrupted, his voice barely above a whisper. His hands trembled slightly in Namjoon’s grasp. “You’re scaring me...” Namjoon’s grip on his hands tightened just a fraction, his brows furrowing as he searched Seokjin’s face. “Be my boyfriend,” he said, the words falling from his lips like a quiet but resolute declaration. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The waves continued to lap at the shore, the stars twinkled above them, but Seokjin was frozen in place, his breath caught in his throat. The next second, Seokjin found himself wrapping his arms around Namjoon’s neck, pulling him down and capturing his lips in a kiss. The cold breeze from the sea brushed against his skin, but Namjoon’s lips were warm—soft yet commanding. Seokjin couldn’t get enough, his lips pressing tightly against Namjoon’s as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his pent-up emotions into it. Namjoon froze for a moment, startled, but then a strong hand found Seokjin’s waist, gripping it firmly and pulling him closer. Their bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly as if they’d been made for this moment. Seokjin could feel the steady rhythm of Namjoon’s pulse, matching the fake beating of his own heart, as the kiss grew more passionate. Namjoon’s other hand slid up to the small of Seokjin’s back, anchoring him even closer. The world around them melted away—there were no waves, no wind, no moonlight, just the two of them wrapped up in each other. Namjoon’s lips moved against Seokjin’s with an intensity that made Seokjin’s knees weak, and he clung tighter, his fingers tangling in Namjoon’s hair. When they finally broke apart, gasping for air, neither let go. Their foreheads rested against each other, their breaths mingling as they struggled to steady themselves. Namjoon’s arms remained firmly wrapped around Seokjin, his grip strong yet tender, as though he never wanted to let him go. Seokjin looked up into Namjoon’s eyes, which were dark and filled with emotion. His own eyes were glossy, shimmering under the faint light of the moon.“I hope that means yes,” Namjoon murmured, his rough voice low and unsteady, carrying both a hint of vulnerability and hope. Seokjin closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself be enveloped in Namjoon’s comforting presence, the familiar scent of agarwood surrounding him. He nodded slowly, almost dreamily, his heart still racing. The kiss had blown his mind, leaving him breathless and speechless. Words seemed unnecessary now. Namjoon smiled softly and pressed a tender kiss to Seokjin’s forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. The simple gesture was just as powerful as the kiss they’d shared, filled with care and promise. Seokjin tightened his hold on Namjoon, his head resting against the taller man’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths. In that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the rest of the world ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the warmth they found in one another.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Two years ago
Seokjin strolled along Insadong-gil, letting the hum of life on the bustling street wash over him. His steps slowed as he noticed a young woman in a wheelchair reaching for a pencil that had fallen just out of her grasp. Her brow furrowed in determination, but as she leaned too far, the wheel slipped, and the chair began to roll backward toward a nearby slope. Before panic could fully seize the moment, Seokjin acted. A subtle flick of his wrist summoned an invisible force that stopped the wheelchair in its tracks. He stepped forward, gently pulling her back to safety. The girl gasped, clutching the armrests of her chair as Seokjin steadied her. "Are you all right?" he asked softly, his voice calm but tinged with concern. "I... I think so," she said, her breath hitching. "Thank you. I didn’t even realize I was moving until it was too late." Seokjin offered a reassuring smile. "It’s good that I was nearby." The girl glanced at him, her expression shifting from relief to curiosity. "How did you do that? It was like... the wind stopped me." Seokjin chuckled lightly, tilting his head. "I’m a phantom," he said with a playful grin, leaning slightly closer. He noticed the delicate sketches of cityscapes and portraits on her lap.. she was a painter. "These are beautiful," he remarked. "Thank you," she said, her face lighting up with pride as she straightened the easel and began reassembling her setup. "I’m trying to capture the soul of Insadong." Seokjin stood back, watching her paint with an intensity and grace that tugged at something deep within him. Then, with a small, whimsical gust, he blew a strand of her hair away from her face. The girl blinked, her cheeks blooming with a soft blush.Before she could respond, Seokjin extended his hand, palm up, and murmured something under his breath. A shimmering light formed, coalescing into a brand-new set of pencils and brushes, each perfectly sharpened and arranged. He handed them to her, his expression warm and kind. Her eyes widened in awe. "Are you serious? These are amazing. Thank you so much!" Seokjin waved it off casually. "You’re welcome. Artists need their tools." As she sat there, marveling at the pencils, Seokjin stepped away, his coat fluttering slightly in the breeze. With a flick of his fingers, a faint spark of magic danced in the air. He whispered an incantation that would erase the memory of him from her mind the moment she turned away. The people around them, who hadn’t noticed him before, remained blissfully unaware. With a final glance over his shoulder, Seokjin disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind a faint trace of magic and a smile that lingered on the painter’s lips, even if she wouldn’t remember why. The scene reminded him of someone, someone that has determined gaze as they work on their canvas.
King Kim Seokjin sat casually on the plush seat, his posture relaxed as he waited for his Queen to prepare her materials. He wore his favorite robe, the one adorned with the tuna pattern—a symbol of his heritage—and he was content in the calm of the moment. The Queen, dressed in a simple gown, stood before an easel, setting up her paints and brushes with a focus that he had grown to admire.
"Ready?" she asked with a playful smile as she glanced at him, tilting her head.
Seokjin chuckled lightly. "You know I’m not used to sitting still for long."
"I promise it’ll be worth it," she replied, her voice light, as she began sketching the outline of his figure.
As the Queen painted, Seokjin found himself at ease, the weight of the crown not as heavy with her presence. She had a way of making him forget the endless duties and expectations of being king. Over the few months, they had become friends, and he appreciated her bubbly personality and how it brightened even his darkest days. She had a knack for making him smile, and he was glad for it.
The Queen moved with fluid grace as she worked, the soft strokes of her brush capturing the details of Seokjin’s expression and the rich fabric of his robe. The portrait began to take shape, reflecting his regal bearing but also a quiet warmth. She often glanced up at him, ensuring that every detail was perfect, while Seokjin remained relaxed, his gaze drifting to the canvas from time to time.
"Almost done," the Queen said after a while, stepping back to admire her work. The painting now perfectly captured Seokjin’s calm presence, his robes still vibrant with the tuna pattern, the colors of the fabric rich against the soft background.
Seokjin nodded in approval, standing and walking over to take a closer look at the finished piece. "It looks great," he said with a small smile. "I didn’t think I’d be the subject of a portrait."
The Queen grinned, setting her brush down. "You’re not just any king," she said with a wink. "You’re one worth remembering."
***************************************************************** As they stood in the soft glow of the porch light outside Seokjin’s mansion, the phantom nervously fidgeted with the hem of his jacket. He hesitated for a moment before finally meeting Namjoon’s gaze. “Namjoon… would you like to, um… spend the night at my place?” he asked, his voice soft but sincere. Namjoon raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “This early in our relationship?” he teased, his dimpled grin deepening. “I didn’t realize you were so forward, Jinnie. But, you know… I don’t mind.” He added a wink, his tone dripping with mischief. Seokjin’s eyes widened in shock, his cheeks instantly flushing a rosy pink. “What? No! That’s not what I meant!” he spluttered, lightly smacking Namjoon’s arm in mock offense. “I… I just didn’t want us to be apart tonight. It’s our first day as a couple, and—” He stumbled over his words, his flustered state only making Namjoon chuckle. “And I’m very in control of myself, thank you very much!” Namjoon’s own cheeks turned slightly red at Seokjin’s earnestness. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. “Okay, okay,” he said with a grin. “I’ll stay… but only because you’re probably afraid of the dark or something.” Seokjin narrowed his eyes but couldn’t hide the playful glint in them. “Either way, I get to spend the night with you,” he shot back, regaining some of his composure. Before Namjoon could say anything else, Seokjin grabbed his hand and led him inside his mansion. “Come on, Joon. No more jokes, or I’ll make you sleep on the couch.” Namjoon laughed as he let Seokjin tug him along, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the night air. The thought of spending the night together—just being near Seokjin—felt like a dream come true. As Namjoon stepped inside Seokjin’s mansion, he couldn’t help but marvel at the blend of ancient Goryeo architecture with subtle touches of modern art. The wooden beams in the ceiling, intricately carved with traditional patterns, stood in harmony with sleek, abstract sculptures and soft, ambient lighting. His eyes roamed over a massive, hand-painted mural depicting a serene landscape of mountains and rivers, framed by minimalistic furniture. “Wow,” Namjoon breathed, turning to Seokjin. “This place is incredible. It’s like stepping into a museum but... cozier. Did you design this yourself?” Seokjin chuckled, leaning against a nearby pillar. “Not entirely, but I had a say in everything. I love traditional Goryeo aesthetics—they remind me of heritage and family—but I also wanted it to feel modern and livable. Do you like it?” “Like it?” Namjoon’s dimpled grin appeared. “It’s stunning. The blend of tradition and modernity is seamless. Honestly, I’m a little jealous. My place is just bookshelves and chaos compared to this.” Seokjin laughed softly, his heart fluttering at Namjoon’s admiration. “Come on, let me show you where you’ll be staying tonight.” He grabbed Namjoon’s hand and led him up a grand staircase to his room. As Namjoon entered Seokjin’s bedroom, he stopped in awe. The walls were painted in creamy, muted tones, creating an elegant and serene atmosphere. Floor-to-ceiling windows on one side overlooked a lush garden, where moonlight illuminated the trees. The bed, draped with soft beige linens, was accented by plush pillows in subtle gold hues. A few personal touches—like a sketchpad on the desk and framed photographs on the dresser—added warmth to the space. “This… is beautiful,” Namjoon said, his voice tinged with admiration. “It’s like your personality in room form—calm, classy, and just a little bit extra.” Seokjin rolled his eyes playfully and headed to his wardrobe, rummaging through the neatly arranged clothes. He pulled out a pair of loose sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt and handed them to Namjoon. “Here, you can change into these. Thank god I wear oversized clothes—otherwise, you’d have to roam around naked since I don’t have anything that could wrap around that buff body of yours.” Namjoon took the clothes with a smirk. “I wouldn’t mind being naked in front of you, you know.” Seokjin’s jaw dropped, his cheeks flushing. “Yah! You pervert!” He pushed Namjoon toward the bathroom, shaking his head. “Go shower before I change my mind about letting you stay. I’ll make some coffee for you.” Still grinning, Namjoon disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water soon filling the air. Seokjin made his way to the kitchen, his hands steady as he brewed two cups of coffee, but his mind raced with emotions. Sharing his home—his sanctuary—with someone felt both thrilling and nerve-wracking. He was excited but also nervous, a warmth spreading in his chest at the thought of Namjoon being here with him. A small smile tugged at his lips as he wondered if the professor felt the same. By the time Namjoon emerged from the bathroom, hair damp and the borrowed clothes fitting him loosely, Seokjin was waiting with two steaming cups of coffee. “Here,” Seokjin said, handing one to Namjoon. “Thanks,” Namjoon said, his eyes soft as they met Seokjin’s. Seokjin excused himself and headed to the bathroom for a quick wash. As he stood under the warm spray, he couldn’t help the butterflies in his stomach. Sharing a bed with Namjoon—it was a thought that thrilled and terrified him in equal measure. But above all, he felt happy. For the first time in a long while, Seokjin felt a sense of comfort he hadn’t known he was missing...Seokjin stepped out of the bathroom, his hair still damp and clinging to his forehead, dressed in his alpaca pajamas. He paused when he noticed Namjoon standing on the balcony, his tall figure silhouetted against the night sky. The soft glow of the moonlight highlighted Namjoon's broad shoulders and strong back, making Seokjin’s heart skip a beat. He could watch him forever—so steady, so solid, yet so breathtakingly beautiful. Without hesitation, Seokjin padded over to Namjoon and wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, pressing his chest against Namjoon’s back. Namjoon’s body tensed for only a second before his hand came to rest gently over Seokjin’s, a quiet acceptance of the embrace. “You are still cold, baby,” Namjoon murmured softly, his voice laced with warmth as he tilted his head slightly to the side. Seokjin rested his face on Namjoon’s shoulder, closing his eyes and letting out a content sigh. The scent of Namjoon—a mix of freshly washed shampoo and his earthy, woody agarwood fragrance—flooded his senses. It was intoxicating, grounding, and utterly irresistible. Inhaling deeply, Seokjin’s nose grazed Namjoon’s neck as he planted soft, fluttering kisses along his skin. Namjoon sucked in a sharp breath, his heart pounding as the sensation of Seokjin’s lips sent heat rushing through his veins. His hands tightened on Seokjin’s, and his mind swirled with emotion: desire, awe, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the man holding him. “Jin,” Namjoon said in a low, gravelly tone, his voice tinged with hesitation. “If you keep doing that, I might lose all my self-control.” Seokjin hummed against his neck, the vibration sending shivers down Namjoon’s spine. “Mmm, I don’t think I mind,” he whispered teasingly, but his voice was already heavy with sleep. Namjoon chuckled softly, turning slightly to look at Seokjin’s drowsy face, his lips curling into a gentle smile. “Come on, sleepyhead,” he said, his tone affectionate as he shifted to guide Seokjin inside. “Let’s go to bed before you pass out right here.”With a sleepy nod, Seokjin let Namjoon lead him back into the room, their hands still intertwined...The first rays of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. Seokjin stirred awake, feeling the soft weight of a muscular arm draped over his waist, their legs tangled together beneath the sheets. Namjoon’s face was relaxed in sleep, messy hair fell adorably across his forehead, and his slightly parted lips looked inviting. Seokjin bit his lip to suppress a smile. He reached out tentatively, brushing a stray strand of hair away from Namjoon’s face. The professor looked so serene, his usual sharp features softened by sleep. Seokjin couldn’t resist anymore. Overcome with affection, he leaned in and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to Namjoon’s lips. The moment his lips left Namjoon’s, the latter stirred, his brows furrowing slightly before his eyes fluttered open. A sleepy but playful smirk formed on Namjoon’s face as he caught Seokjin’s sheepish expression. “Were you stealing a kiss, Kim Seokjin?” Namjoon teased, his voice husky from sleep.Before Seokjin could respond, Namjoon moved swiftly, flipping Seokjin onto his back and pinning him to the mattress. His strong hands captured Seokjin’s wrists, holding them firmly above his head. Seokjin gasped softly, his cheeks flushing as Namjoon’s weight pressed him into the bed. His strong arms caged Seokjin beneath, their noses almost touching. “If you’re going to steal a kiss,” Namjoon whispered, his voice husky, “you’d better be prepared to give more.” Namjoon’s grin was mischievous, but his eyes were warm and affectionate. Seokjin’s breath hitched as Namjoon leaned down, his lips capturing Seokjin’s in a deep, passionate kiss. Seokjin’s wrists strained slightly against Namjoon’s hold, but he didn’t want to escape. The intensity of Namjoon’s kiss made his head spin, and a shiver ran down his spine as their bodies pressed closer. The kiss deepened and the phantom melted beneath him. It was filled with arousal and the warmth of newfound love. The kiss was not like yesterday, it felt more hungrier this time. Their bodies pressed together, the heat of the moment enveloping them as they lost themselves in each other. After a while Namjoon pulled back slightly, a string of saliva connecting their mouth, his gaze locking with Seokjin’s wide, doe-like eyes. “Good morning baby,” Namjoon murmured, his tone low and tender, as his grip on Seokjin’s wrists loosened. “G-good morning Joon-ah,” Seokjin replied breathlessly, his cheeks flushed. Namjoon released his hands completely and cupped Seokjin’s face instead, leaning in with a gentle smile, pressing a hot kiss to the corner of Seokjin’s lips. The act made Seokjin’s heart race. When Namjoon’s lips brushed against his ear, a soft ahhh escaped from the rosy lips, and he instinctively clutched Namjoon’s shirt tightly, holding him close. Seokjin felt a trail of small, feather-light kisses peppered along his jawline. The sensation was electrifying. Unable to help himself, Seokjin tilted his head back, arching his neck as though silently pleading for more.Namjoon didn’t need any further invitation. His lips found the soft, milky skin just beneath Seokjin’s ear, and he lightly sucked at the sensitive spot. Seokjin's fingers tightened in Namjoon’s shirt as he let out a shaky breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “N-Namjoon...” Seokjin tried to form words, but they melted away under theexhilarating attention of Namjoon’s lips. His voice lost in the haze of the moment. Namjoon smiled against Seokjin’s skin, then bit down gently, following it with a deeper, more deliberate suck. The faint pink mark deepened into a bold, angry red. Namjoon finally pulled back to admire his work, his fingers tracing the hickey with pride. “There,” Namjoon murmured, his voice low and satisfied. “Now everyone will know you’re mine.” Seokjin’s face turned crimson as he tried to glare at Namjoon, but his flustered expression betrayed him. All he could do was bury his face in Namjoon’s chest, his heart hammering wildly as Namjoon chuckled softly. “My baby is shy.” Seokjin bit Namjoon’s chest earning a groan from the professor. “Seems like you wanna play..” Namjoon slid Seokjin’s pajama shirt up, revealing the smooth, pale skin of his stomach. His lips curled into a dimpled smile as he leaned down, pressing soft, lingering kisses across Seokjin’s chest before trailing his way down to the curve of his stomach. Seokjin let out a shaky breath, his toes curling instinctively at the sensation. The attention sent ripples of pleasure through him, and his hands flew to clutch the bedsheet beneath him as though it were the only thing keeping him tethered.Namjoon glanced up, his dark eyes smoldering. His voice was a low, tantalizing murmur. “You’re beautiful, Jinnie. Every inch of you is perfect.” Seokjin felt his cheeks burn, the words sending a rush of heat through him. He turned his head to the side, attempting to hide his flustered state, but Namjoon wasn’t done. “I wonder...” Namjoon began, pressing a kiss just below Seokjin’s navel, his voice dripping with seduction, “what other reactions I can get out of you. Will you keep squirming under me like this?” Seokjin’s breath hitched, and his body arched slightly at Namjoon’s words, completely betraying him. “J-joon-ah i-its t-too m-much..,” he managed, his voice trembling with both embarrassment and desire. Namjoon smirked against Seokjin’s skin. “There it is,” he said softly, his lips brushing the sensitive spot on Seokjin’s stomach, leaving another soft kiss. “I love how you say my name.” “J-joonie- uh..w-wanna..” “Hmmm…? Tell me, baby. What do you want?” “I w-want you d-down there, J-Joonnn. I…I want y-you clos-se, w-wanna f-ffeel your m-mouth on m-me.” Namjoon’s heart racing as he took in Seokjin’s plea. A small smile tugged at his lips, his hands gently brushing against Seokjin’s skin. “Gladly, princess,” He slowly removed Seokjin's pajama pants, his eyes catching the wet, strained boxer shorts that Seokjin was wearing. “Already wet, huh?” Namjoon whispered against the clothed cock of Jin’s. "Stop t-teasing," Seokjin stuttered. Namjoon traced circular motions on the waistband of Seokjin's boxer shorts, and the phantom squirmed beneath his touch. With one swift motion, the buff guy pulled down the shorts, revealing Seokjin's beautiful cock, causing goosebumps to rise across his body. "Spread your legs, princess." and the latter did so immediately. This made his cock spring out between his legs, straightening. It was long and pink, with the tip slightly curved and a considerable amount of transparent fluid leaking at the end. The professor couldn’t help but salivate at the mouthwatering scenery. "Y-you’re s-staring," Seokjin said. "Can you blame me?" Namjoon replied, his gaze never leaving Seokjin’s beautiful princess cock. Namjoon held the cock delicately, giving a playful, almost affectionate lick, his eyes narrowing in mock seriousness as if evaluating its flavor. A loud moan escaped from the gorgeous one’s lips as his dick being savoured by this particular person. His eyes fluttering shut. "Mmmhhh," he murmured, shifting slightly on the bed. As he squirmed, the soft blanket beneath him wrinkled and bunched up around his legs. Namjoon groaned and pressed his lips against the pre-skin, giving it a series of small, exaggerated kisses, drawing another chain of moans from the latter. "This is how you show appreciation for good dick," he joked under his breath, giving wet kisses to Seokjin’s balls and crotch area. Then he sucked the wrinkled skin carefully, closing his eyes as the sweetness spread across his taste buds. "Perfect," he murmured, repeating the process of tiny bites and exaggerated kisses, fully embracing his love for the simple joy of having a good dick down his throat. Seokjin is aroused, his dick is erected and its painfully hard. And Namjoon is not giving him an easy time…he wanted a relief…the blood has remain pooled in the tip of his member. “J-jjooniee…e-enough…wanna..” Driven by hunger, Namjoon put the whole dick in his mouth. Given by Seokjin’s height he had a big cock and Namjoon was keened to compare his one with Seokjin’s. "Oh my god Joon-ahhh, Your m-mouth is h-heaven," Seokjin gasped, his voice muffled by another moan. Unable to contain himself, he reached out and grabbed Namjoon's hair in sheer ecstasy. Namjoon took a slow, deliberate lick, letting the cold, velvety texture melt against his tongue. With a soft sigh, he pressed his lips to the cock, sucking hardly, savoring the pre-come that spread through his mouth. He closed his eyes for a moment, fully immersed in the pleasure of the flavor, letting the cold cream cool him down. Each careful suck, each small bite, he felt his own erection painfully hard under the sweat pant. He bobbed his head up and down, guiding the tip toward his throat and at the same time he grabbed his own member pulling down his pants and gave it a squish that was long due. His cock was hard and was already leaking. Namjoon felt the precum gathered from his tip when he pumped the massive dick. Namjoon slowly deepen Seokjin’s cock into his throat, and tilted his head slightly back to look at the pretty man. Fuck.. Namjoon muttered internally. Seokjin’s eyes were closed, and the soft petal like lips parting because of the nonstop moans. His breathing has become erratic, and few strands of dark brown hair was on his forehead, damp with bead of sweat. The milky skin was naked and red hickeys were here and there. Namjoon couldn’t hold anymore. the scene was so erotic. He slipped his one hand under Seokjin's hips and brought his crotch to his face closer. then he deep throated the velvety cock with no gag reflex while giving a handjob to his own one. He continued the act until he heard Seokjin crying. “I’m..um c-close..J-joon-ah..lemme g-goo..” But Namjoon has no intention of letting Seokjin’s dick go without knowing how his cum taste. “N-namjoonnnghh..!”With a loud scream Seokjin exploded inside Namjoon’s mouth. The creamy cum rushed out, filling Namjoon’s mouth in an instant. The liquid flooded over his tongue and spilled into every corner of his mouth, surprising both of them with its suddenness. Namjoon instinctively swallowed the cum to keep up with the flow, the taste of the milk lingering as it coats his throat. Few drops of cum had spilled out the sides of his mouth, adding to the chaotic yet steamy moment. Seokjin was breathless, his chest rising and falling as his wide eyes stayed fixed on Namjoon. He watched as the cum burst, filling Namjoon’s mouth and spilling slightly at the corners. He, still panting softly, instinctively reached out with trembling fingers to wipe away the remnants of the semen clinging to Namjoon’s lips. Namjoon’s gaze met his for a brief, charged moment before he released the cock he had been sucking in his mouth. The pink cock now with a relief dropped back between Seokjin’s milky thighs, lying there calmly as if it had resigned from the spectacle. Seokjin swallowed hard, the air between them thick with unspoken words and lingering amusement. “Can I mark you?” Namjoon asked in a hoarse voice, his eyes locked with Seokjin’s. The tension between them was palpable as Namjoon held his big cock in his hand. The latter nodded dreamily, he was already in cloud nineth. So it was like he never mind what Namjoon is going to do with him. The cock ejaculated, spilling its contents onto Seokjin’s stomach. The warm liquid splashed over his skin, leaving white streaks that dripped down and pooled around his navel. Namjoon groaned softly, his hand tightening around the remnants of the cock. Seokjin looked down in awe, watching the cum trickle across his abdomen, the unexpected mess catching both of them off guard. He blinked, then let out a soft laugh at the absurdity of the situation, breaking the tension in the air. Namjoon’s eyes darkened as he let them roam over Seokjin’s stomach, where the cum had spilled, leaving streaks across his skin and pooling delicately in his navel. A slow smile tugged at his lips, and his voice came out low, almost reverent. “Fuck..You’re a masterpiece, Jinnie,” he said, his words carrying a sensual weight. “Even something as simple as this—my cum spilling on you—becomes art when it’s on you. It highlights every curve, every dip... as if it was meant to.” He leaned closer, his gaze never leaving Seokjin’s, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “You make even the mess look divine.” Seokjin’s cheeks flushed as Namjoon’s words sank in, his breath hitching slightly. He managed a soft laugh, his voice trembling. “You’re ridiculous,” he murmured, though his gaze betrayed the warmth spreading through him. Namjoon’s eyes didn’t waver, and Seokjin’s resolve melted under the weight of his intense stare. Still unable to fully express the emotions bubbling inside him, he looked at Seokjin and whispered, “You’re incredible.” His voice was soft, full of admiration. He couldn’t find the right words to fully describe the way Seokjin made him feel, but this was the closest he could come. Seokjin, still trying to regain composure, smiled faintly and looked away shyly. “I don’t even know how to respond to that…” he murmured, his voice carrying a vulnerability that Namjoon had never seen before. “I’m just... glad I could be here with you.” Namjoon rested his head on Seokjin’s chest and they laid like that for a few moments, the weight of what had just happened settling in. After a while, Namjoon broke the silence again, a teasing smile curling on his lips as he observed Seokjin. “You’re a mess,” he said, his voice playful but full of warmth.Seokjin laughed softly, a bit self-conscious, and gently wiped the remnants of what had happened. “You made this mess,” he replied, a cheeky grin appearing on his face despite the lingering sense of intimacy between them. Namjoon chuckled at Seokjin's response, his heart swelling at the sight of Seokjin looking so vulnerable yet so beautiful. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from Seokjin’s face, before leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips. As their lips parted, Namjoon looked into Seokjin’s eyes with tenderness. “I never want you to feel anything but safe with me,” he whispered. “I know this is just the beginning, but you mean more to me than I can put into words.” Seokjin’s heart fluttered at his words, and he felt a warmth flood his chest. “I feel it, Namjoon. I really do,” he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity, forgetting for a moment that he is a phantom and lying his identity for the man he desired most. Namjoon smiled, a reassuring warmth in his eyes. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? You deserve to feel refreshed.” Without waiting for a reply, Namjoon gently lifted Seokjin into his arms, careful and gentle. He carried him with ease, as if Seokjin weighed nothing at all, and made his way toward the bathroom. As Namjoon walked, Seokjin rested his head against Namjoon’s chest, the quiet closeness between them speaking louder than words ever could. “Thank you,” Seokjin whispered, his heart full of emotion. “For everything.” Namjoon’s response was simple but meaningful. “Always, Jin. Always.” And with that, Namjoon carried Seokjin toward the warmth of the bathroom, ready to take care of him, just as he promised.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Taehyung entered Jungkook’s apartment around 4 in the afternoon, the door clicking softly behind him as he stepped inside. He was given the passcode, so the door had been unlocked, but the apartment was eerily silent. "Jungkook?" he called softly, almost as if he didn’t want to disturb the stillness. When no reply came, he moved cautiously into the apartment, a sense of hesitation weighing down his steps. He made his way toward the bedroom, pausing at the door. He could hear the sound of water running, a shower running in the next room, and it seemed to ease the uncertainty gnawing at him. Relieved, Taehyung’s shoulders relaxed as he let his curiosity take over. He stepped into the room and glanced around. The room was enveloped in shades of black—everything from the walls to the furniture had been chosen in deep, inky tones. The walls themselves were painted in a matte black, giving the room a feeling of intimacy, almost as if the darkness was a comforting cocoon around him. The large bed had sleek black bedding, with silver-embroidered pillows arranged neatly at the head. A low, minimalist dresser sat against one wall, topped with a few personal items and a black-and-silver framed mirror. The dark hardwood floor was partly covered by a charcoal rug, and the dim lighting, coming from a desk lamp and the thick black-out curtains, added to the room’s cool vibe. Everything was meticulously arranged. It was simple, yet stylish—quietly reflecting Jungkook’s personality. Taehyung’s attention drifted to the desk in the corner of the room, where a framed photo sat on one corner—a picture of Jungkook leaning in toward Seokjin, his lips near the elder’s face. The moment seemed almost playful, with Seokjin looking away, his hand trying to block the kiss from landing. But despite the attempt, the kiss was captured on the side of Seokjin’s head, a lighthearted moment frozen in time. The photo had an endearing quality to it—like the teasing banter of a younger brother to an older sibling. Taehyung smiled softly, admiring the image. It was clear they shared a close bond, but something about it seemed… off. He frowned, his eyes lingering on the photo for a moment longer. They weren’t brothers, so what was between them? The affection in that photo felt almost familial, but there was something deeper that Taehyung couldn’t quite figure out. The playful tone felt genuine, but it was more than that—it was as if there was an underlying layer to their relationship that Taehyung wasn’t seeing. Before Taehyung could dive further into his thoughts, a strong arm suddenly wrapped around his torso, pulling him back into a cold embrace. "Baby," a voice murmured softly in his ear. Taehyung stiffened for a moment, the surprise making his heartbeat quicken. He quickly realized that Jungkook had just come out of the shower, his wet skin cooling the air around them, making Taehyung feel the chill of his presence. "Is-c-cold," Taehyung murmured softly, unable to find the right words. His voice wavered as he felt the bare cock of Jungkook's pressed against his buttcheeks. "I didn’t think you’d come this early," Jungkook replied, his voice low and hoarse,"So I took a shower without grabbing a towel." His cold hands slid beneath Taehyung's shirt, causing him goosebumps. Taehyung gasped, his breath hitching in his throat. "K-kook... please," he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper. Despite the small pleadings, Jungkook's long fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements on Taehyung’s tan skin. His touch was gentle but insistent, his index finger making small, circular motions around Taehyung’s navel, eliciting a loud moan from the actor. “mmmhhhh” Taehyung couldn’t help but lean his head against Jungkook’s shoulder, his eyes closing as he felt the sensual touches of the others. His back pressed gently against Jungkook’s chest, and he instinctively grabbed onto his arms for support. Jungkook made his fingers toward Taehyung's nipple. They were already erected.
“Naughty boy.. already aroused..”
“K-koo…” His nipple were twirked by the firm fingers, and another loud moan escaped from Taehyung’s lips. Jungkook chuckled softly, but there was something guarded in his smile. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing Taehyung’s ear as he whispered, "I didn’t expect you to become this beautiful while moaning my name." Jungkook leaned in, capturing Taehyung’s lips in a passionate kiss, though the angle was a bit awkward. He didn’t mind, though. Taehyung’s rosy lips were soft against his, fitting perfectly with his own. The arousal between them grew as they shared the kiss, and Jungkook couldn’t help but think that no matter the angle, Taehyung was always beautiful in his eyes. “Yes baby.. more loud..wanna hear you more..” Jungkook starts to grind his crotch bringing Taehyung into another world. ***********************************************************************
King Seokjin walked through the quiet halls of the palace, his robe adorned with the golden embroidery whispering against the polished floors. He had come to visit his queen’s quarters unannounced, seeking a moment of ease in her cheerful company.
As he approached, the faint sound of rustling parchment reached his ears, and he paused at the partially open door.
Inside, the queen sat at her mahogany writing desk, the delicate glow of an oil lamp illuminating her focused expression. With hurried precision, she sealed a letter and slipped it into her sleeve. The urgency in her movements gave Seokjin pause, and his brow furrowed. He pushed the door wider, announcing his presence with an authoritative yet calm tone.
"To whom are you writing, my queen?"
She startled, her hand instinctively brushing against the sleeve that concealed the letter. Composing herself quickly, she rose to greet him with a graceful bow. "Your Majesty," she said with a soft smile, her voice steady. "It is but a letter to my family. They have been concerned for my well-being, and I wished to ease their minds." She gestured dismissively, as though the matter were of no consequence.
Seokjin’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, the weight of his gaze heavy yet unreadable. Before he could press further, she clasped her hands together, her smile widening. "Your Majesty, why don’t we take tea this afternoon? I’ve had fresh tea leaves brought in from the southern provinces, and it would be my honor to serve you." Her tone was light and warm, skillfully steering the conversation away from the letter.
Though the doubt lingered in his mind, Seokjin found himself nodding. "Very well. I shall join you."
Later that afternoon, the queen welcomed Seokjin into her private garden, where an elegant tea table awaited under the shade of blooming cherry blossoms. She poured the tea herself, her movements graceful and practiced. "This blend is said to calm the spirit," she remarked, handing him a porcelain cup. "And I think we both could use some peace today."
As Seokjin sipped the tea, its delicate aroma filling his senses, he watched her closely. Her demeanor was as composed and cheerful as ever, her laughter bubbling forth as she recounted tales of the palace staff’s amusing antics. For a moment, her lightheartedness eased the weight on his shoulders, and he found himself smiling despite the doubt that gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.
But as the afternoon waned, the image of her hurriedly sealing the letter remained etched in his mind. While her invitation had successfully brushed aside the matter for now, the seed of doubt had been planted, and Seokjin knew it would only grow with time.
Seokjin woke up with a soft smile lingering on his lips, the warmth of last night still wrapped around him like a cozy blanket. Automatically, his fingers grazed his lips, where Namjoon had kissed him tenderly last night before they parted. Namjoon couldn’t stay last night—his responsibilities at SNU demanded an early morning lecture—but he had promised to come straight to Seokjin’s side after work. That thought alone was enough to keep Seokjin’s spirits high. Seokjin had been savoring the quiet happiness that came with Namjoon's presence in his life. These days, his sleep came easily, each night a comforting lull after hours spent wrapped in the warmth of Namjoon’s companionship. Whether it was exploring quaint cafés together, laughing over shared desserts, or curling up on the plush sofa in Seokjin’s opulent living room to watch old movies, each moment felt like a gift. But apart from the first day Namjoon hasn't made any move on Seokjin. Sure they kissed, hugged and gave blowjobs to each other. But Seokjin wanted more. He wanted to feel a piece of Namjoon inside him, wanted to lose himself in the warmth of his man’s presence. The longing gnawed at him, leaving his heart restless. Maybe tonight, he could take the lead when Namjoon came over to spend the night with him, as he had promised. He sprang out of bed with an unusual burst of energy, humming a tune as he went about his morning routine. The mirror reflected a Seokjin who seemed lighter, brighter, and perhaps even glowing in his own quiet way. As he splashed water on his face, he caught himself smiling again, an involuntary grin brought on by the thought of Namjoon’s deep voice, his warm hands, and the promise of seeing him later today. Padding into the kitchen, Seokjin opened the cupboard and reached for his favorite tea blend. The familiar ritual of brewing tea felt comforting, the fragrant aroma wafting through the air as he waited for the water to boil. His mind wandered back to last night—Namjoon’s gentle words, his arms wrapped around him, and the way his gaze held nothing but sincerity. Seokjin couldn’t help but chuckle softly, a sound of pure contentment as he poured the steaming tea into his cup and settled by the window to enjoy the peaceful morning. But all of Seokjin's morning bliss shattered as a single text notification lit up his phone. It was from Taehyung.
"Did you tell him?"
The message was short, without any elaboration, but it didn’t need to be. Seokjin instantly knew what Taehyung was referring to. The promise he had made—the one he kept putting off. Seokjin had told Taehyung that he would tell Namjoon the truth about being a phantom. But how could he? The thought of revealing his reality, of baring the weight of his cursed existence, made his chest tighten with fear. It was selfish, he knew, but the idea of losing the fragile happiness he had just begun to grasp terrified him. For a moment, he contemplated ignoring Taehyung's message altogether. But how long could he keep running from the truth? With a sigh, he typed out a simple reply: "I will." Taehyung’s response came almost instantly, a rolling-eyes emoji that made Seokjin’s lips twitch despite the dread curling in his gut. Hoping to shift the topic, he typed, "Any nightmares from yesterday?" The reply was just as swift: "The same one. But there was an addition" Seokjin’s heart sank. He felt miserable. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung pieced everything together—the shared connection they both had to Seokjin’s curse. Maybe Taehyung had already seen the sword, though the younger man had chosen not to address it directly. But one day, if Taehyung decided to pull it out, to end the torment Seokjin had carried for so long, there would be no escaping his fate. Yet, even as that looming reality weighed heavily on his mind, another thought persisted: Namjoon. Between them, something was growing—something deeper and more profound than Seokjin had ever dared to dream of. They hadn’t delved into the complexities of their feelings yet, but every look, every touch, every word between them carried a weight that Seokjin couldn’t ignore. He wanted to cling to it, to cherish this fragile, blooming connection. But how could he, when he knew the truth might destroy everything they had just begun? Seokjin’s phone vibrated again, the soft chime breaking the silence in the room. Another message from Taehyung lit up the screen. The words were simple, unembellished, but they hit Seokjin like a tidal wave: His breath hitched, and the phone slipped from his trembling fingers onto the counter. The walls around him seemed to close in, and his chest tightened as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. His legs weakened, and he gripped the edge of the counter for support, but it wasn’t enough.
"I saw a sword, hyung"
********************************************************************* Namjoon adjusted his tie in the mirror, his mind wandering to the memory of the previous night. The image of Seokjin's flushed cheeks, the way his eyes softened as their lips met, played over and over in his head. He remembered the first time, Namjoon had truly experienced the scent of Seokjin—like freshly harvested strawberries mixed with rain. It was intoxicating, sweet yet grounding, a fragrance that lingered even after their shared moment ended. He had wanted more, yearning to dive deeper into the feeling of having Seokjin so close, but he had restrained himself. He still remembered that one time he had gone overboard; Seokjin’s tearful eyes lingered vividly in his memory. Namjoon noticed how Seokjin had become utterly lost in the moment, reduced to a moaning mess, unable to form a single coherent word. The memory made Namjoon’s heart tighten with both guilt and admiration. The last thing he wanted was to overwhelm the beautiful man now—not when they had just taken the delicate, precious step of becoming a couple. Shaking off the thought, Namjoon grabbed his briefcase and headed out the door. The drive to the university was long, the cool morning air refreshing. He had a lecture to give, and he wanted to focus, but Seokjin's smile, his touch, and that scent were impossible to shake. It was as if Seokjin had left an invisible mark on him, one that Namjoon welcomed with open arms. As he entered the lecture hall, his students already shuffling in and preparing for the day, Namjoon took a deep breath, his lips quirking into a small smile. He could face anything now, he thought, as long as the memory of Seokjin stayed with him...Namjoon sat at his desk, his fingers drumming lightly against the polished surface as he waited for his assistant to arrive. The lecture had gone smoothly, but his mind was elsewhere, entangled in the mysterious threads of his ongoing research. He was waiting for his assistant ready to have a discussion of what he found new. Yeonjun entered the office with a stack of papers in hand, his usual calm demeanor apparent as he set them on Namjoon’s desk. “Professor, I went through the archives like you requested. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find anything substantial about King Kim Seokjin. No records, no official mentions in any historical texts.” Namjoon frowned, leaning back in his chair. “Am I chasing something that doesn’t exist, Yeonjun-ah?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration. “The journal is the only source that even mentions him. I’m still working on the translation, but if there’s nothing else to corroborate his existence, could it mean he’s fabricated? A character who never actually lived?” Yeonjun shook his head, a reassuring smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t think like that, Professor. We’ve already found the robe with the unique tuna pattern and the portrait. Even if the history books don’t acknowledge a king by that name, the evidence suggests that someone named Kim Seokjin did exist.” Namjoon tilted his head, curiosity replacing some of the doubt clouding his expression. “But how does that fit into the gap in the records? There’s nothing between the death of King Kim Ji-hoon and the ascension of Han Ji-sung to the throne.” “That’s the intriguing part,” Yeonjun said, leaning slightly forward. “There’s a one-year gap, a void in history where no ruler is officially recorded. Yet, if you look deeper, the narrative surrounding Han Ji-sung paints him as the savior of Goryeo—a divine figure who rescued a suffering nation with no leader. It’s possible that during that year, Kim Seokjin ruled but was erased from history for some reason. His existence wasn’t just ignored; it was deliberately removed.” Namjoon ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. “So, you’re saying the journal might hold the key to uncovering what happened during that missing year. If Kim Seokjin truly ruled, then why erase him? What was so threatening about his reign that it warranted complete eradication?” “I don’t know,” Yeonjun admitted, his voice soft yet confident. “But your research isn’t useless, Professor. You’re uncovering fragments of a story that no one else has dared to question. I believe your talent will lead you to the truth. Sometimes, the answers lie not in what’s recorded but in what’s been deliberately hidden.” Namjoon nodded, a flicker of determination reigniting in his eyes. “Thank you, Yeonjun. Let’s keep digging. The truth about King Kim Seokjin won’t stay buried forever.” ************************************************************************ Yoongi’s office was dimly lit, the warm glow from a single desk lamp casting soft shadows across the room. Jimin was perched on Yoongi’s lap, his arms looped loosely around the elder’s neck as their lips met in a slow, intoxicating rhythm. Jimin let out a soft sigh, tilting his head slightly to deepen the kiss, and Yoongi responded with fervor, his hand gripping Jimin's waist firmly. The usually composed man suddenly shifted, his passion overtaking his restraint. In one fluid motion, Yoongi grabbed Jimin, lifting him from his lap and laying him on the desk. The sound of scattered papers falling to the floor was muffled by the intensity of their kiss. Yoongi hovered over Jimin, his hands planted on either side of the younger man’s head as he kissed him harder, more urgently. Jimin’s fingers tangled in Yoongi’s hair, his lips parting to allow more, to feel more. The moment was electric, consuming them both—until a sudden, loud yelp broke through the haze. “Jin!” Yoongi exclaimed, his voice a mix of shock and panic as his eyes landed on a figure sitting quietly on the couch. Seokjin. Seokjin was leaning back, his usual seat claiming him as if he’d been there all along. One hand rested on his chin, his expression distant, lost in thought. He didn’t even flinch when Yoongi’s startled outburst echoed through the room. Jimin froze, his cheeks burning red as he scrambled to sit up. “S-Seokjin hyung?” he stammered, his voice small and filled with embarrassment. He quickly moved behind Yoongi, using the older man’s broad frame as a shield. Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself, though his ears betrayed his frustration, turning crimson. “Since when were you here?” he asked, his tone sharper than intended. Seokjin blinked slowly, as though Yoongi’s words were just registering. “Hmm?” he hummed, finally glancing at the pair with a mildly confused expression. “Oh… I’ve been here for a while. Didn’t want to interrupt. You two seemed… busy.” Yoongi groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as Jimin whimpered softly behind him, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. “I swear, Seokjin,” Yoongi muttered, shaking his head. “Next time, maybe make a sound? Clear your throat? Anything?” Seokjin shrugged nonchalantly, the corners of his lips twitching as if he were holding back a smirk. “You seemed focused. I didn’t want to ruin the mood.” Yoongi let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words. “Jin… what are you doing here?” His voice was low, tinged with frustration and lingering embarrassment. “Me and Jimin… we were—”He paused, the words catching in his throat. “You were about to fuck,” Seokjin interjected bluntly, his tone laced with sarcasm. He leaned back against the couch, eyes distant yet sharp. “And here I am, already fucked.” The room fell into an awkward silence as Yoongi’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering to Jimin. The younger man’s wide eyes mirrored his own disbelief before they both exchanged a look. Jimin hesitated for only a moment before moving toward Seokjin. He walked around the couch and settled behind him, his small hand gently resting on Seokjin’s broad shoulder. The contrast was almost jarring—Jimin’s soft, tentative touch against Seokjin’s tense frame. “Jin-hyung,” Jimin said softly, his voice full of concern. “What’s going on? Did something bad happen?” Yoongi crossed his arms and leaned against the desk, his expression somewhere between annoyed and resigned. He studied Seokjin, who still hadn’t looked at either of them directly. This Kim Seokjin... Yoongi’s mind grumbled, his exasperation growing. Jimin tried again, his voice quieter but more insistent. “What happened, hyung? Please, talk to us.” Seokjin finally exhaled, the weight of his breath filling the room. He still didn’t answer, his thoughts seemingly tangled somewhere far away. Seokjin exhaled deeply, the sound heavy with weariness as he leaned back into the couch. His gaze drifted to the ceiling, and for a long moment, neither Jimin nor Yoongi dared to interrupt the oppressive silence. Then, finally, Seokjin spoke, his voice a quiet tremble of vulnerability. “It’s Taehyung,” he began, each word seeming to weigh more than the last. “He texted me… about the sword.” Yoongi’s brows furrowed, his arms crossing as he leaned against the table, and Jimin’s concerned gaze fixed on Seokjin. “The sword?” Jimin asked softly, his voice tinged with confusion. “What about it?” Seokjin’s hands fidgeted in his lap, his eyes filled with a sorrow that seemed centuries old. “He’s been having dreams. Vivid dreams about me in my King days, At first, I thought it was just coincidence. But the details… they’re too exact. Too painfully accurate to be anything but the truth.” He let out a shaky breath. “It confirmed my worst fear. Taehyung… was my murderer.” Jimin gasped audibly, his small hand flying to his mouth, while Yoongi’s sharp intake of breath was masked by his calm exterior. “Jin, I know we have been talked about this, Taehyung being the one” Yoongi said, his voice measured and cautious. “But, are you sure about this? Dreams are just—” “They’re not just dreams,” Seokjin interrupted, his voice low but resolute. “I confronted him, Yoongi. The visions match perfectly with the fragments of memory I’ve kept locked away for so long. And I could see it in his eyes—there was a pain that he would never describe. He is the one who killed me.” Jimin stared at Seokjin, his heart aching for his hyung. “Taehyung? Our Taehyung?” His voice cracked, disbelief lacing every word. Seokjin nodded slowly. “It’s only a matter of time now. He’s the only one who can pull the sword out of me. And when he does… it will all end.” Yoongi leaned against the table, his brows furrowing as he processed Seokjin's words. His eyes narrowed slightly, his fingers tapping against the wooden surface in a thoughtful rhythm. "So, does Taehyung know about all this? That he was your murderer in his past life?" Seokjin shook his head, letting out a breath that sounded like it had been held in for centuries. "No, Yoongi. I didn’t tell him. He only shared the dreams with me—the ones about the sword, the blood, and the shadowed figure he couldn't quite make out. But when he described the details… I just knew. I’m the one in his dreams." Seokjin’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching as he gripped the edge of the couch. "I was certain the moment he mentioned the sword," he said firmly. "Today morning he said he saw the same dream, but this time there was an additional detail. He said he saw a sword… and the blood dripping from the blade. What more do I need to doubt, Yoongi? The sword is the key to my curse. Only the one who drove it into me can remove it. and it’s Taehyung." Jimin gasped softly, his eyes wide with shock as he clutched Seokjin's shoulder tighter. "Hyung… that’s terrifying. But… if you know it’s him, why haven’t you told him? Why keep it a secret?" Seokjin closed his eyes, his head lowering as though the weight of his secrets was finally breaking him. "Because I was scared," he admitted, his voice trembling. "Scared that if he knew… he would t-try to p-pull out the s-sword and e-end my miserable life. And when he does… it will all e-end" Yoongi uncrossed his arms, his expression hardening with a mix of confusion and concern. “So, what’s the problem, Jin? Isn’t this what you’ve wanted all along? Peace, closure… freedom?” Seokjin’s head tilted, his lips pressing into a thin line as he met Yoongi’s eyes. “You’re right,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper. “This is what I thought I wanted. To finally escape this cursed immortality, to find rest after centuries of pain and loneliness. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.” He paused, his hands trembling slightly as he clenched them together. “That’s what I thought… until I met Namjoon.” Jimin’s wide eyes flickered between Yoongi and Seokjin, and Yoongi raised a brow, his curiosity piqued despite the gravity of the situation. “Two days ago,” Seokjin continued, his voice thick with emotion, “he asked me to be his boyfriend.” He let out a shaky laugh that bordered on disbelief. “Me. As if someone like me deserved something so pure, so kind. We hugged… we kissed… and for the first time in centuries, I felt alive. Not because of the curse, not because of any magic or punishment, but because of him. Because of the way he makes me feel.”His voice broke, and a tear slipped down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away, his vulnerability too raw to hide. “And now, I can’t go away from him. I can’t leave him behind. I think… I think I’m falling for him.” Jimin’s heart ached for his hyung as he reached out, his small hand resting gently on Seokjin’s broad shoulder. “Hyung…” he whispered, his voice trembling with sympathy. “This must be so hard for you.” Yoongi let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair as he processed everything. “So, you’re caught between the life you’ve been waiting to end and the one you’ve just started to want. That’s… complicated, Seokjin. Really complicated.” Seokjin let out a bitter laugh, the sound void of humor. “Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it. I want to be with Namjoon. But how can I, knowing that every moment I stay is borrowed time? Knowing that Taehyung could pull that sword any day, and I’d disappear forever?” Jimin’s voice wavered as he asked, “Hyung, does Namjoon know about… all of this?”Seokjin shook his head, his voice barely audible. “How could I tell him? How could I look into his eyes and tell him that I’m living on borrowed time? That the person he’s starting to care for could vanish without a trace?” Yoongi exhaled sharply, his tone softening as he spoke. “Well, Jin, maybe you should. Namjoon’s not the kind of guy to shy away from the truth. You owe it to him—and to yourself—to let him in on what’s happening.” Seokjin’s gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his inner turmoil. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that, Yoongi.” Jimin leaned closer, wrapping his arms around Seokjin in a comforting embrace. “Jin, you’re stronger than you think. And no matter what happens, you won’t face this alone. You have us. Always.” Yoongi gave a slow nod, his voice steady with conviction. “Yeah, hyung. We’re here. Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.” Seokjin closed his eyes, letting their words sink in. “What should I do now?” Seokjin asked, his voice trembling as he looked at Yoongi, his eyes filled with desperation. Yoongi sighed, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression. After a moment, he met Seokjin’s gaze and spoke with a calm yet firm tone. “I think the first thing you need to do is tell Namjoon the truth,” Yoongi said. “You can’t just disappear from this world without giving him a proper goodbye. He deserves to know, Seokjin. You’ve let him into your heart, and that means being honest, no matter how painful it might be.” Seokjin’s shoulders sagged, but he nodded, knowing Yoongi was right. “Then,” Yoongi continued, “you need to have a real discussion with Taehyung. Find out if he’s truly starting to see the sword. If he can see it, that’s a sign—whether you believe Taehyung is your murderer or not, he should see the sword in order to pull it out for you to finally find peace. Avoiding this won’t change anything, Seokjin. You need clarity, and you won’t get it unless you confront him.” Seokjin bit his lip, overwhelmed by the weight of Yoongi’s words. “Let’s clarify those two things first, Jin,” Yoongi said firmly, his gaze steady and reassuring. “Only after you’ve cleared these two things can you decide whether you’ll let Taehyung pull the sword or not.” Seokjin nodded slowly, his hands trembling in his lap. Yoongi’s words made sense, but the path ahead felt daunting. “One step at a time, Jin,” Yoongi added gently. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once. Just take that first step.” Seokjin exhaled shakily, his resolve hardening. “You’re right. I need to face this.” Yoongi offered him a small, supportive smile. “I’ll be here, whatever you decide.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The evening air was cool as King Seokjin made his way through the quiet halls of the palace. His steps were measured, his mind heavy with the weight of the decision he had made earlier that day. Another had betrayed the crown—Lord Park had been a trusted official, the man responsible for overseeing the kingdom’s military. Yet, trust was something Seokjin did not give easily, and once broken, it could never be mended.
The reports had been clear—Lord Park had been trading weaponry, using the military’s name to smuggle arms to unknown buyers. Seokjin did not care for the details. A man who could act outside his command, a man who could arm enemies or traitors, was a man who could no longer breathe.
So, without a trial, without a second thought, Seokjin had ordered his execution. The beheading had taken place at sunset, swift and merciless. The nobles whispered in the halls, but none dared question his decision. He was the king, and his word was law.
Yet, even as he retired for the evening, his mind was restless. He found himself walking toward the Queen’s chambers, seeking her presence for reasons he could not quite explain. She had become a companion to him—not in the way of lovers, but as a presence that eased his burdens, if only for fleeting moments. She was a friend, a confidante. He simply wished to see her well.
But the room was empty.
His jaw tightened. It was already close to nightfall. Where would a mannered lady go at this hour?
His patience wore thin as he paced her chamber. An hour passed. When the doors finally creaked open, the queen entered, her breath uneven, her hands trembling slightly. Her silk dress was slightly disheveled, and her eyes darted toward him before lowering.
Seokjin stepped forward, his voice cold and sharp. "Where have you been?"
The queen hesitated, her fingers nervously pinching the fabric of her sleeves. "I... I went to see my teacher. I heard she was ill. She is the one who raised me in the ways of court, the one who taught me how to hold my head high even when the world wished to silence me. I respect her greatly, Your Majesty. I had to see her."
Her stuttering only fueled Seokjin’s anger. "You had to?" His voice rose, his eyes narrowing. "And you thought it wise to leave the palace in the dead of night? Without informing anyone?"
"I—I was afraid you wouldn’t let me go," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Seokjin let out a sharp laugh, void of humor. "You disobeyed me because you assumed my answer?" He stepped closer, towering over her. "Do you think this is a place for foolish sentiment? You are the queen. You do not leave the palace as you please!"
She lowered her gaze, clasping her hands together. "I am sorry, Your Majesty. I did not mean to anger you."
"Then what did you mean to do?" Seokjin snapped, his patience threadbare. "Make a fool of me? Run around the city like some reckless girl while my guards wonder whether their queen is safe?"
"I only wished to help someone I care for," she whispered.
Seokjin clenched his jaw, his fists curling. "Then you should have married a man who tolerates such foolishness."
She flinched at his words but did not argue further. Instead, she bowed her head. "Please forgive me, Your Majesty."
But Seokjin was not in the mood to forgive. His anger burned too hot, his trust too fragile. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the chamber, his heavy steps echoing in the hallway.
"Your Majesty!" she called after him, but before she could follow, the guards moved, blocking her path at his silent command.
Seokjin did not look back.
Seokjin's vision blurred, his sight fading behind a veil of unshed tears. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the heart-wrenching scene on the TV—Cheon Song Yi sobbing, begging Do Min Joon not to leave—or because it reminded him of his past. Of her. The queen. A sharp pang tightened in his chest, an ache he couldn’t shake. His fingers curled slightly, gripping the hem of his sleeve as he took a deep breath. But even that wasn’t enough to steady him. Instead, his mind drifted to Namjoon—his calm presence, the quiet comfort he brought. Seokjin wanted that warmth, needed it to anchor him. His eyes flickered to the clock. 4:10 PM. Namjoon was still in lectures. Without another thought, he reached for his phone and typed a quick message.
"Miss you Joonie, Come after you finish Uni?"
He did not say please. He did not need to. He knew Namjoon would come. ************************************************************* The film set was buzzing with activity, but Taehyung barely heard anything beyond the steady instructions of the director. The scene had just wrapped—a slow-burning, post-love moment between his character and the actress beside him. They were tangled in silk sheets, skin partially exposed, breathing still heavy from acting out the intimacy. “Cut!” the director called out. “And that’s a wrap! Let’s meet again tomorrow. Thank you, everyone.” He turned to the leads with a satisfied nod. “Taehyung, Shin-hye, that was a great shot. Well done.” As soon as the director finished speaking, the staff members began working swiftly to pack up the set, clearing equipment and adjusting the lighting for the next day’s shoot. Taehyung exhaled, propping himself up slightly. He barely had time to sit up properly when he noticed someone striding toward him with purpose. Jungkook. Taehyung’s eyes widened as Jungkook reached him without a word, shrugging off his coat and draping it over Taehyung’s bare shoulders. The thick fabric covered his toned abs, shielding him from the lingering gazes of the cast and crew. Soft murmurs and coos spread around them, some of the staff giggling at the unexpected gesture. Taehyung blinked up at Jungkook, cheeks warming. “What are you doing?” he asked in a hushed voice, feeling his heart hammer against his ribs. Jungkook’s expression was unreadable, but his jaw was tight. “Aren’t you cold?” His voice was firm, but Taehyung wasn’t oblivious—he recognized that look. The slight furrow of Jungkook’s brows, the way his eyes flickered toward the others watching. There was something else there. A hint of jealousy. Taehyung screamed internally. He lowered his gaze, biting his lip. “It’s not like I’m completely naked. You didn’t have to...” he mumbled, still flustered. Jungkook didn’t reply, but his grip tightened around Taehyung’s wrist. “Let’s get you out of here. Everyone’s staring, and I don’t like it.” His voice was quiet but firm. Taehyung felt his face burn. “Let me at least change first,” he tried, but Jungkook was already guiding him toward the dressing room. Once inside, the door clicked shut behind them, sealing them away from prying eyes. The room was dimly lit, quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner. Before Taehyung could even take a step toward his clothes, Jungkook moved.Strong hands gripped his waist, pressing him back against the wall. A sharp inhale left Taehyung’s lips as Jungkook leaned in, his gaze dark and unwavering. Then, without warning, Jungkook crashed his lips onto Taehyung’s. It wasn’t soft—it was firm, hungry, filled with something that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. Taehyung melted instantly, hands gripping the front of Jungkook’s shirt, pulling him closer. His mind spun, but one thought echoed louder than the rest. Jungkook was jealous. ****************************************************************** Namjoon was practically glowing as he walked out of his lecture hall, eager to head to Seokjin's mansion. The excitement he felt when he saw Seokjin's message earlier in the day had not faded. It was a simple message to come over, but to Namjoon, it meant everything. He quickly wrapped up his lecture, finishing precisely at 5:00 PM, which was a rare occurrence. His students looked at him in surprise as he dismissed them promptly, something he hadn’t done in months. A few months ago, Namjoon would have kept them for extra minutes, diving into additional topics or making sure they understood everything. But today, today was different. Today, he had someone waiting for him. Before heading to Seokjin, Namjoon made a quick detour. He stopped at his favorite little bakery, a cozy spot known for its fresh moon cakes—Seokjin’s favorite dessert. He couldn't help but smile at the thought. It was strange, really. Apart from seafood, Seokjin had a fondness for moon cakes, and Namjoon was more than happy to indulge him with them. As Namjoon walked up to the counter, ready to place his order, he froze. Standing there, grinning ear to ear, was none other than Hoseok. "Oh, Hobi!" Namjoon exclaimed, the surprise clear in his voice. Hoseok's face immediately lights up as he waves at Namjoon. "Oiiii, Namjoon-ahhh!" he calls back cheerfully. "Long time no see! How are you?" Namjoon grins, feeling a warm wave of familiarity wash over him. "I’m good, Hobi. Just a little busy with work, you know how it is." He pauses, giving Hoseok a knowing look. "So, how are you? Don’t tell me you brought this cafe too?" Hoseok laughs, clearly in high spirits. "Of course! This place wouldn’t run without me," he says, striking a dramatic pose."But I’m good, just living the dream." Namjoon chuckles. "You always do. You’re like the energizer bunny of cafes." He raises an eyebrow. "Soo Mister Dimples, What do you gonna order?" “Mister Hobi, Can I have this mooncake?” Namjoon grinned. “Of course, Give me a minute…” Hoseok grins and gestures toward the counter and came with a lovely wrapped mooncake. Namjoon pulls out his wallet and took his card. "I’ll pay with this." "No!" Hoseok says quickly, shaking his head. "It’s on the house today, Joon-ah. I’m happy to see you."" “Ohh Thank you so much Hobi!” Namjoon said showing his dimples. "So, to whom are you giving this? A special someone?" Hoseok raised an eyebrow teasingly. Namjoon blushed, his nerves getting the better of him as he stammered, "You know, Seokjin." Hoseok's eyes widened in excitement. "Jin hyung?? Oh my god, Namjoon! How, when, where?" Hoseok asked, his curiosity piqued. Namjoon felt a little flustered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, it happened after you helped me find his home. We became friends, thanks to Taehyung... and now, I’m... urrghh... I’m dating him." Hoseok gasped dramatically, a big smile forming on his face. "Oh my god, Namjoon! I’m so happy for you! I see you’re totally smitten—no wonder, he’s such a gorgeous one. You’re very lucky." Namjoon chuckled, feeling his cheeks burn. "Yeah, I am, Hobi." "So... Jungkook is okay with this I see?" Hoseok asked, casually. Namjoon froze. "What Jungkook?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.There was a brief, awkward silence. Hoseok immediately backpedaled, laughing nervously. "Ahhh, forget I said anything… So, tell me more about Seokjin hyung! Did he feed you enough? I’m glad you two met." The awkward tension evaporated, replaced by Hoseok’s usual bubbly aura. The two of them laughed and chatted about everything and nothing, the familiar comfort of their friendship easing Namjoon’s nerves. But then, Namjoon remembered. Seokjin was waiting for him. He waved goodbye to Hoseok, still feeling a little puzzled about what Hoseok had almost asked. But it was a fleeting thought, one he easily pushed aside as he drove toward Seokjin. When he arrived at Seokjin’s mansion, the engine of his car still humming, he saw Seokjin standing by the front door, his face lighting up when he spotted Namjoon. The shorter male was wearing something simple yet cozy—a soft, knitted sweater and loose pajama pants, an outfit that made him look so approachable and warm. It was the kind of look that screamed home, comfort, and happiness. Namjoon’s heart skipped a beat as he pulled into the driveway. Seokjin immediately broke into a smile and ran toward him, throwing his arms around Namjoon the moment he stepped out of the car. Namjoon wrapped his arms around Seokjin’s waist, holding him close, inhaling the scent of his shampoo as he buried his face in the soft strands of Seokjin’s hair. "Missed me that much, baby?" Namjoon murmurs in his hoarse voice, a playful smile tugging at his lips. Seokjin nods, not pulling away, still holding Namjoon tightly. His face is buried against Namjoon’s chest, and he seems content in the quiet moment.Namjoon gently pulls back, his hands moving to Seokjin's face. He cups it delicately, his fingers brushing against the delicate skin of Seokjin’s cheeks as he looks into his eyes. "Now show me your beautiful face," Namjoon whispers, his voice filled with affection. Slowly, he leans in and places a gentle kiss on Seokjin’s nose. "My doll," Namjoon whispers softly, a soft smile spreading across his face.Seokjin’s smile was all the answer Namjoon needed. ***************************************************************** The drive to Taehyung’s apartment was quiet, but the air between them felt charged with something Jungkook couldn’t quite name. His grip on the steering wheel tightened each time Taehyung shifted in his seat, humming softly, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. When they pulled up in front of the apartment, Taehyung unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to Jungkook with a lazy smile. “Thanks for the ride, Kook,” he murmured, leaning in before Jungkook could react.A wet kiss landed on his cheek, lingering just enough to make Jungkook freeze.His breath hitched. It wasn’t a lie—his heart skipped a beat. Taehyung pulled back with a playful smirk, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. “Goodnight,” he whispered before slipping out of the car and disappearing behind the door. Jungkook exhaled, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. He didn’t know what was happening to him. He felt restless. Relentless. He hadn't seen Jin-hyung in weeks now—it felt like Jin was avoiding him. And he couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to see the phantom.Before he could think twice, he grabbed his phone and typed out a message."I'm coming over." But never got a reply. Anyway, he started the engine. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he focused on the road, but his thoughts spiraled. He felt like he was lost between two worlds, unable to find the right path. And he hated it. Why did he feel that way when he saw Taehyung almost naked on the bed, even though it was just acting? Jungkook gritted his teeth, gripping the wheel tighter as the memory flashed through his mind. The way Taehyung's skin glowed under the lights, the way his body curved so effortlessly—like he belonged there. It was just a role, just a scene, but something in Jungkook snapped. He hadn’t planned to claim Taehyung in front of everyone. But he did.What was it about Taehyung that made him react like this? Maybe Taehyung was giving him something Jin-hyung never had. Maybe it was warmth. Maybe it was attention. Maybe it was something Jungkook didn’t even realize he craved until now.And that thought made him uneasy. He couldn't afford to be greedy. Taehyung would be out of the equation eventually, right? Once he got back with Jin-hyung—wasn’t that the whole point? Then why did it feel like he was losing his way?His chest felt tight, and the only person he could think of, the only one who could ground him, was Jin-hyung. Jimin’s words about Taehyung echoed in his mind, but Jungkook pushed them away. He couldn’t figure out anything right now. All he knew was that he needed to see Jin. Jungkook finally came into view of the huge mansion—one that, not even a month ago, had been a frequent place of comfort for him. But now… now, it felt strange to come here at night like this, feeling vulnerable in a way he couldn’t quite place. His hands tightened around the wheel as his eyes locked onto a car parked in front of the mansion. His heart lurched, then his blood boiled. It didn’t take him a second to guess. Kim Namjoon. That bastard was here. At night. With Jin-hyung. Alone. A sharp wave of anger rose in Jungkook's chest. Without thinking, he parked the car outside the gate and got out, his footsteps heavy with frustration.As he approached, his eyes flickered to the gate post, where Soobin’s crow form perched in eerie silence. Its red eyes glowed in the dim light, watching him—warning him. Don’t go. Jungkook ignored it.With determined strides, he made his way straight to the door. And, just like always, it opened for him. The air inside was thick, heavy with something Jungkook couldn’t name. Then he heard it. A rustling noise from the kitchen. A moan. Jungkook froze. His breath caught in his throat as realization dawned on him. That voice—he knew it instantly.
Jin-hyung.
His heart slammed against his ribs as he forced himself forward, step by step, drawn toward the sound like a moth to a flame. He knew what he was about to see, but he needed to see it. Maybe he was horny. Maybe he was just losing his mind. Jungkook stepped into the kitchen, and the sight before him stole the air from his lungs. Seokjin was on the kitchen counter, lips parted as he gasped for breath. His usually pristine clothes were disheveled, sliding off one shoulder, revealing flushed skin. His head was thrown back, neck arching as a guttural moan spilled from his lips. And between his spread thighs, the one causing all of it was Kim Namjoon. Jungkook stared in horror. Namjoon’s broad shoulders were wedged between Seokjin’s thighs, his strong arms wrapped tightly around Seokjin’s waist. His head was buried against Seokjin’s abdomen biting it like a starved animal. His dark hair gripped in Seokjin’s trembling fingers. One of Seokjin’s legs was hooked over Namjoon’s shoulder, while the other dangled off the counter. And Seokjin...Seokjin was writhing in pleasure. Jungkook’s pulse roared in his ears. His hands clenched into fists.Then Seokjin’s heavy-lidded eyes flickered open. Their gazes met. And Jungkook felt blood rush through his veins. ************************************************************ Still entangled in each other, Namjoon and Seokjin stumbled through the grand entrance of Jin’s mansion, their bodies pressed close as they moved inside. The moment the door shut behind them, Seokjin tilted his head up and captured Namjoon’s lips in another warm kiss—slow, lingering, filled with unspoken emotions. Namjoon happily returned it, his hands resting on Seokjin’s waist as he deepened the kiss before finally pulling away with a soft chuckle. Once they untangled, Namjoon’s gaze lingered on Seokjin’s face, noticing something off. He reached out, gently brushing his thumb under Seokjin’s eyes. “Were you crying, Seokjin?” he asked, his deep voice laced with concern. “Oh, no,” Seokjin quickly dismissed, waving a hand. “Actually, I was watching a drama, and there was this really heartbreaking scene.” Namjoon narrowed his eyes slightly. “Is that so?” “Yeah.” Seokjin nodded, then hesitated before adding, “And… I’m sorry if I’m taking up too much of your time. I know Taehyung is waiting for you as well. He’s your broth—” “Hey, hey, Jinnie,” Namjoon cut him off, cupping Seokjin’s face in his large hands. “What are you even saying?” He smiled softly. “It’s totally fine. I’m your boyfriend, after all. Isn’t it my duty to be with you?” Seokjin bit his lip, looking away for a second before Namjoon grinned and playfully added, “Besides, Taehyung isn’t alone. He’s got Jungkook. And he’s not a little boy anymore, even though—” he sighed dramatically, “I’m a little jealous that Jungkook is stealing my Tae’s innocence.” Seokjin blinked, then frowned. “What are you talking about?” Namjoon smirked. “I saw a hickey on Tae. I’m sure they’re more than just friends now.” “Oh, really?” Seokjin’s expression shifted slightly, a mix of surprise and something else—something bittersweet. He realized, then, that Jungkook hadn’t been coming to him like before, hadn’t been excitedly telling him about his day the way he used to. Of course, he knew why. Sometimes, he deliberately ignored Jungkook because he could see it—the way Jungkook looked at him, the silent longing in his eyes. Seokjin had always known what Jungkook wanted. But now, with Namjoon, he couldn’t give Jungkook what he sought anymore. But if what Namjoon said was true, if things between Jungkook and Taehyung had really escalated… then maybe, just maybe, Jungkook had finally found someone else to look at like that. “I’m happy, then,” Seokjin said softly, his eyes glistening as he forced a small smile.Namjoon hummed in acknowledgment and pressed a gentle kiss to Seokjin’s temple, holding him close. Then pulled back slightly, a small, teasing smile playing on his lips as he looked at Seokjin. “So, what did you cook for me today, Jinnie?” Seokjin blinked, then scoffed, pushing Namjoon’s chest playfully. “Excuse me? Who said I cooked anything for you?” Namjoon gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me! You mean to say you invited me over, kissed me senseless, and didn’t even prepare food?” Seokjin rolled his eyes. “I didn’t force you to come..” “And yet, here I am, expecting a five-star meal,” Namjoon said with a grin, wiggling his eyebrows. Seokjin sighed, shaking his head fondly. “Alright, alright. I actually made some soybean stew earlier. And there’s rice, of course.” Namjoon clapped his hands. “See? I knew my Jinnie wouldn’t let me starve.” “I’m stating to wonder you are with me because of my food.” “You are wrong, I’m with you because you are edible..” Seokjin scoffed but still led him to the dining area. The food was already set on the table, and the scent of warm broth and spices filled the air. There was a Oyster Salad which is for Seokjin. The professor immediately took a seat, watching as Seokjin sat across from him, and they began eating together. As Namjoon took his first bite, he let out a satisfied hum. “Ah, this is exactly what I needed. You always make the best food.” Seokjin smiled, pleased with the praise. “Of course, I do. What else did you expect?”Namjoon chuckled, then suddenly remembered something. “Oh, wait! I brought you something.” He stood up and reached into the bag he had set aside and pulled out a small, carefully wrapped box. “Ta-da! Mooncakes.” Seokjin’s eyes lit up. “Mooncakes?” “Yeah, I saw them on my way here and thought of you,” Namjoon said, handing the box over. Seokjin unwrapped it, finding delicate mooncakes inside. “Wow, these look so good. You actually thought of me while buying food? I’m touched.” Namjoon laughed. “I always think of you, Jinnie.” They each took a mooncake, breaking off pieces and eating between sips of warm tea. The air was filled with comfortable laughter and easy conversation, their bond feeling stronger with every shared moment. “So,” Namjoon said after a while, casually resting his chin on his hand. “Where did you go to school, Jin?” At that, Seokjin froze. His chewing slowed, and his eyes widened in surprise. “I… uh…” He swallowed hard, shifting in his seat. “I was homeschooled.” Namjoon blinked, then grinned. “Ohhh, you rich boy.” Seokjin scowled, reaching out to flick Namjoon’s forehead. “Shut up.” Namjoon laughed, rubbing the spot where Seokjin hit him. “Hey, it makes sense now! You have that whole ‘mysterious chaebol heir’ vibe.” Seokjin rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that.” “Uh-huh,” Namjoon teased. “So, were you one of those kids with a private tutor who taught you how to speak five languages and then go to golf?” Seokjin huffed. “I only know one languages, thank you very much. And no, I never like golfing” Namjoon smirked. “So, what did you do all day, then? Just sit around in silk robes and sip expensive tea?” Seokjin fought the urge to laugh. “Well… sometimes.” Namjoon dramatically gasped. “I knew it!” Seokjin finally broke into laughter, shaking his head at Namjoon’s antics. The atmosphere was warm, playful, and filled with a kind of happiness that made Seokjin’s heart feel light. Namjoon watched him with a soft smile, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “I love moments like this, you know?” Seokjin’s laughter quieted, and he looked down at their hands before squeezing back. “Yeah… me too.” And just like that, the night felt perfect... Seokjin stood up from the table, stretching his arms over his head with a soft sigh. “I’ll take care of the dishes,” he said, making his way toward the sink. Namjoon, already finishing his last bite of the mooncake, raised an eyebrow. “I’ll do the dishes, Jinnie. Don’t worry about it.” Seokjin waved a hand dismissively, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Oh, Joon-ah, last time I checked, you broke one of my porcelain plates. You remember that, don’t you?” Namjoon froze mid-motion, recalling the incident where he’d dropped a delicate, ancient plate—one that Seokjin valued so much. “I… uh… I’m still sorry about that,” he mumbled, feeling sheepish. Seokjin tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with playfulness. “To be honest, the plates we ate from tonight were from the Qing Dynasty. They’re from the reign of Emperor Kangxi, and nowadays, you can’t find them anywhere. They’re rare, Joon.” Of course Namjoon from an instant what are they.. After all he is a historian. but he embarrassingly scratched his neck. “Really? That’s… wow.” Seokjin shrugged with a smile. “Yeah, so no, you’re not washing the dishes.” He returned to the sink, tapping his fingers on the counter as he began filling the basin with water. Namjoon couldn’t help but mumble, “Why do you always use such valuable things for dinner, then?” Seokjin turned to him with a playful glint in his eyes. “Because that’s how I am, and you’re just going to have to adjust to it,” he said, giving Namjoon a teasing wink.Namjoon shook his head, chuckling softly, but he made no further protests as Seokjin began to wash the dishes. He stood by the counter, leaning against it, his eyes never leaving Seokjin. “Mm,” Namjoon murmured, stepping closer. “So, what should I do while you’re washing the dishes?” His voice lowered, becoming softer, more suggestive. Seokjin felt a shiver race down his spine at the deep tone of Namjoon’s voice. His heart skipped a beat. “I-I d-don’t know…” He bit his lip seductively, glancing over at Namjoon. “M-maybe just watch me.” Namjoon’s gaze darkened, his breath catching in his throat. He closed the space between them in an instant, wrapping his arms around Seokjin’s waist, pulling him flush against his chest. Seokjin gasped softly as Namjoon rested his chin on his shoulder, his warm breath sending a shiver down Seokjin’s neck. “Like this?” Namjoon asked, his voice husky, his lips brushing against the skin of Seokjin’s shoulder. Seokjin nodded, unable to form words. His breath hitched as Namjoon tightened his embrace, the heat between them intensifying with each passing moment. Seokjin’s fingers trembled slightly as he continued washing the dishes, his mind racing with the sensation of Namjoon’s touch. For a long while, neither of them spoke. The sound of water splashing, the soft hum of the kitchen, and the beat of their hearts filled the air. It was as if the world outside had melted away, leaving only the two of them in this quiet, intimate space. Namjoon’s breath was warm against Seokjin’s skin as he leaned in, his lips brushing lightly over the curve of Seokjin’s neck. His hands, firm but careful, rested on Seokjin’s waist as he pressed closer, guiding his already hard clothed cock through Seokjin's ass crack. Namjoon couldn’t resist the way it made his heart race. A soft sigh escaped Seokjin’s lips as Namjoon began to nibble gently, teasing the sensitive skin along his neck. His fingers twitched around the plate he was holding, his mind growing hazy. “Joon-ah,” he murmured, though whether it was a protest or encouragement, even he wasn’t sure. Namjoon reached past him, shutting off the tap with a quiet click. The sound barely registered in Seokjin’s ears before he felt Namjoon’s hands guiding him, turning him around until they were face to face. Seokjin’s breath hitched as he met Namjoon’s dark, intent gaze. His fingers gripped the edge of the sink for balance, but Namjoon was already there, steadying him with hands at his waist. “Jinnie,” Namjoon whispered, his voice husky with unspoken emotions. “Um hungry again, wanna eat you..” The way he said it sent a shiver down Seokjin’s spine. Before Seokjin could reply, Namjoon leaned in again, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. It was so rushed, and messy that left Seokjin breathless. Namjoon’s hands slid up his sides, tracing his form as if memorizing every inch of him. Without breaking the kiss, Namjoon removed Seokjin's pant halfly revealing his Pinkish cock.. It was beautiful erected and precum straining. Seeing the erotic yet mouth-watering scenery, Namjoon felt his own cock painfully hard under his trouser. Without taking anymore time he lifted Seokjin with ease and settled him onto the kitchen counter. Seokjin gasped, gripping Namjoon’s shoulders for support, his legs instinctively parting to make room for him. He felt the coolness of the marble hit his bare skin making him goosebumps. Namjoon pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against Seokjin’s. His fingers played with the entrance of Seokjin’s ass, his breathing unsteady. “You okay?” he asked lowly. Seokjin nodded, his hands tightening around Namjoon’s arms as he pulled him in again, their lips meeting once more. Their breaths came out ragged, Their saliva mixed and tongues out licking and sucking each other like hungry animals. Namjoon’s fingers tugged at Seokjin’s sweater, pulling it down just enough to expose the smooth pale skin of his shoulder and neck. His lips trailed lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the crook of Seokjin’s neck, sucking harshly until a deep red mark began to form. Seokjin moaned, hands threading into Namjoon’s hair as his head tilted back, granting more access. Namjoon took full advantage, his lips wandering further down, ghosting over his collarbone before trailing lower. Seokjin’s stomach tensed with each brush of Namjoon’s lips, his breath hitching as he felt the wetness of the kitten licks over his skin. Namjoon pooled the saliva over his belly button and bit around it harshly, then Seokjin hissed at the pain only for Namjoon' to suck more area on his abdomen. Seokjin’s belly rose and fell unevenly, his fingers gripping Namjoon’s hair until his knuckles become white. Just as Seokjin’s breath hitched in anticipation, something shifted. His body stiffened. A shiver ran down his spine, but not from Namjoon’s touch. Something felt off..He felt A presence. And then— His eyes snapped open. Across the room, at the entrance of the kitchen, stood Jungkook. Frozen. Watching. Seokjin felt his stomach drop, his breath caught in his throat. His fingers clenched His entire body went rigid, and before he could even think, his lips parted in pure horror. “J-Jungkook—” Namjoon immediately stilled, sensing the shift in Seokjin’s body before following his wide-eyed gaze. His own expression darkened when he saw Jungkook standing there, fists clenched, chest rising and falling in sharp breaths. The look in Jungkook’s eyes wasn’t just anger. It was something deeper. Something unreadable.Without a word, Jungkook turned on his heel and stormed out. “Jungkook, wait—” Seokjin scrambled off the counter, fixing his clothes hurriedly, panic flaring in his chest. Namjoon stepped back, watching him with frustration brewing in his eyes. “What the fuck is he doing here?” he gritted out. Seokjin barely heard him. He was already moving toward the door. “I’ll talk to him,” he mumbled. Namjoon scoffed, folding his arms. “Why do you need to explain anything to him?” His voice was tight, controlled—but there was an edge to it. “We weren’t doing anything wrong, Seokjin.” “Give me a few minutes Joon. I'll come..” “What's going on Seokjin..??” But Seokjin wasn’t listening. He was already gone, chasing after Jungkook. Namjoon exhaled sharply, running a frustrated hand through his hair before dropping into the nearest chair, his foot tapping impatiently against the floor. Previously hardened cock was now dangling bewteen his legs. They were cockblocked and Namjoon was disappointed.
Why is Jungkook here? Why does he look so angry? And why the hell is Seokjin running after him?
Seokjin, meanwhile, teleported just in time, appearing in front of Jungkook before he could leave. Jungkook stopped but didn’t turn around. His shoulders were tense, his breathing uneven. “Jungkook,” Seokjin called softly, hesitantly reaching out. “Wait.” Jungkook flinched at the sound of his voice but didn’t move. Seokjin swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words as the weight of everything settled heavily between them. “I’m sorry, hyung,” Jungkook said, his voice quiet—gentler than Seokjin expected. “I… I didn’t mean to see it.” There was no anger. No accusations. Just sadness. Seokjin exhaled slowly, feeling his own chest tighten. “You don’t have to apologize, Jungkook,” he murmured. “It’s just—” He hesitated. “We were caught up in the moment, that I didn’t saw you coming.” Jungkook let out a soft breath, finally turning to face him. His dark eyes held something unreadable—resignation, maybe. “Can I ask you something hyung?” he said. Seokjin nodded. “Of course.” “How did he do it, hyung? In such a short time? How did he steal what I’ve been chasing for so long?” His voice dropped, full of quiet agony. “Why him?” Seokjin’s chest tightened. He never wanted to hurt Jungkook like this. “Jungkook… Namjoon has become my world now. I don’t know how or why, but from the moment I saw him, I—” He hesitated, his heart clenching at the realization. “I loved him.” Jungkook’s breath hitched, but Seokjin continued. “I’m sorry, kook, but I’m not worried about you anymore,” Seokjin said softly, his gaze full of hope. “You have Taehyung now.. Please… be happy with him.”
Of course, Taehyung
.
He was the reason Jungkook was here in the first place. Because no matter how much Jungkook tried to ignore it, Taehyung’s behavior confused him and he wanted nothing but be In the calm presence of his Jin hyung. But now everything is crystal clear,no matter what he do Seokjin won’t look at him like the way he wants..and before this going anymore further Jungkook determined to breakup with Taehyung..
“But don’t forget… you’ll always be my little Jungkook. You can always come to me for comfort, for anything you need.” He reached out and lightly touched Jungkook’s arm. “Just… not in a romantic or sexual way.” His eyes softened. “I’m sorry for causing you pain. Please, forgive me, Kook-ah.” Jungkook let out a slow sigh, his shoulders dropping. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. Then, finally, he lifted his gaze, his eyes holding a quiet sadness. “Whatever you say, hyung,” he murmured. “At the end of the day… I guess I was the fool for falling for you.” Seokjin’s heart ached at those words, but before he could say anything else, Jungkook stepped back, opened the car door, and slid inside. With one last lingering glance, he shut the door and drove away.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Taehyung’s knees were hurting. The daylight was blinding, the harsh rays mercilessly illuminating the barren courtyard. The air carried the acrid scent of incense, and the distant clang of ceremonial gongs echoed through the stone walls. A crowd encircled him, their faces blurred, melting into indistinct shadows. His trembling hands clutched his stomach protectively, though he didn’t know why. Something inside him recoiled, screaming, but he didn’t understand what it was trying to tell him. Then, A figure in royal robes stood at the periphery, draped in crimson and gold, colors too rich, too heavy against the pale, unforgiving daylight. The silk flowed with each step, brushing against the stone ground like whispers of an unspoken truth. The executioner stood nearby, sword in hand, the blade polished to a cruel shine. The sound of boots against stone broke the silence—slow, deliberate steps that echoed ominously. Taehyung’s breath hitched. His head jerked up as the figure in royal robes stepped forward, the golden embroidery shimmering like fire in the light. The ceremonial headpiece tilted slightly as the figure held his head proudly. And then—he saw his face. Seokjin. His face was ethereal, almost dreamlike in its perfection. His sharp eyes bore into Taehyung’s soul, unreadable, distant yet devastatingly close. The breath left Taehyung’s lungs. “Pyeaha…” The word spilled from his lips in a whisper, a plea, a lament. Seokjin’s gaze softened, but there was no warmth—only something eerily final. The world around them blurred. And then— Taehyung jolted upright in his bed, his body drenched in sweat. ************************************************************************ Seokjin stood at the doorway of the balcony, watching Namjoon’s broad back as he leaned against the railing, staring into the night. The dim glow of the city lights cast shadows over his figure, but even in the darkness, Seokjin could see the tension in his shoulders. “So, you two had a history?” Namjoon’s voice was calm, but the sharp edge in it cut through the silence. Seokjin exhaled shakily. “Joon-ah, it was over.” His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried so much weight. Namjoon didn’t turn around. “Then why was he so upset?” Seokjin swallowed hard. “Because he didn’t expect us to be this serious. Because I never told him about you. He might have felt… left out.” Namjoon let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Yet you encouraged Jungkook to go out with Taehyung. And now it seems like he still has feelings for you.” “We… we were never a couple,” Seokjin tried to explain, his voice unsteady. “Whatever we had, I stopped it after he met Taehyung. And trust me, Joon-ah, I know when someone is in love. In Jungkook’s eyes, I’ve never seen that love—not for me. He’s just possessive, because for so long, I was the only person in his world.”Seokjin took a deep breath, his fingers twisting together. “I told you before—he was a shy kid, and I was always around him since his childhood. He was comfortable with me, and somewhere along the way, he convinced himself that I belonged to him. But that’s not love, Joon. He’s just infatuated.” Namjoon’s grip on the railing tightened, his knuckles white. “I always wanted Jungkook to find someone who could teach him what real love is,” Seokjin continued. “I thought… I thought Taehyung was that person. That Taehyung could change Jungkook, and they could love each other.” Namjoon scoffed, his voice dangerously low. “And because of your misjudgment, my Taehyung has to suffer?” He turned his head slightly, his gaze unreadable. “What if Jungkook is just acting with Taehyung? What if he’s still not over you?” Seokjin took a shaky breath, his eyes glistening. “I’m sorry, Joon-ah,” he whispered. “I really am.” He stepped closer, his hands trembling as he reached out, but stopped himself. “I know I shouldn’t have assumed things. I just… I saw the way Jungkook acts differently when he’s with Taehyung. It’s not the same as how he was with me. I thought—no, I hoped—that meant something real.” Seokjin lowered his head, guilt weighing heavily on his chest. “Taehyung is like a brother to me too, Joon. I would never want to see him in pain. I’ll talk to Jungkook when he calms down. I’m sure he’ll listen to me.” He finally looked up, his gaze pleading. “But please, trust me when I say this—you are the only one for me. No one else, Joon-ah. Just you.” Namjoon slowly turned towards Seokjin. “Jinnie,” he finally said, voice softer but filled with something deeper. “It’s not that I don’t trust you.” He exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. “It’s that… I feel like there are so many things in your life that I don’t know.” Seokjin froze. Namjoon’s words struck harder than expected. Because he was right. There were things Seokjin had kept hidden—his biggest secret still buried beneath layers of silence. For the first time, Seokjin wanted to reveal it. Because for the first time, he saw Namjoon in pain. “Joon…” Seokjin whispered, stepping closer. His hands trembled slightly. “I want to tell you something.” Namjoon sighed, shaking his head. “Not now, Jin.” Seokjin’s brows furrowed. “But—” “I’m tired,” Namjoon cut him off. “I have to leave early in the morning.” Seokjin frowned. “But you told me your lectures start at 2 p.m. tomorrow.” Namjoon turned slightly, just enough for Seokjin to see his side profile, the hard set of his jaw. “Let’s just sleep, Jin.” His voice was quieter now, but distant. Seokjin clenched his hands, but he said nothing. The cold night air wrapped around them, yet the distance between them felt even colder. “…Are you going to tell Taehyung?” Namjoon didn’t move for a moment. Then, his voice came, steady but distant. “It’s not my place to tell someone else’s story.” He paused. “But if Jungkook is hurting my brother, I’ll take the necessary action.” Seokjin felt his chest tighten. Namjoon’s words were firm—too firm. They held a weight that pressed against Seokjin’s already fragile heart. And as silence settled between them, a bitter realization crept in. So I’m just someone now? Seokjin thought. The ache in his heart deepened, but he kept it to himself. *************************************************************** Taehyung’s hands trembled as he frantically searched through the scattered papers and books on Namjoon’s work table. His breath came in short gasps, his body damp with sweat. The room was dark, the only light spilling in from the moon outside, casting long, eerie shadows across the floor. His chest heaved as he tried to calm the frantic pounding of his heart. “I saw it… it has to be here…” he mumbled to himself, his voice barely above a whisper, but filled with urgency. His fingers skimmed over old manuscripts and delicate scrolls until—there. A box, securely rolled and tucked away, as if someone had intentionally hidden it.With a pounding heart, Taehyung reached for it, his fingers shaky as he pried open the lid. The portrait. The one he had half-seen the other day. The one that haunted him.This time, he needed to see it. He had to confirm it. Slowly, carefully, he unrolled the canvas, his pulse hammering in his ears.And then— “Fucking god…” he breathed, his voice barely a sound. Kim Seokjin. The man in his dreams. The man whose presence had been a mystery—until now.His deep brown eyes stared back at Taehyung, painted with such delicate precision that they felt alive, filled with a sorrow that reached straight into his soul. A sharp pain clenched in Taehyung’s chest. His fingers curled tightly around the edges of the portrait as his vision blurred with unshed tears. Why? Why did looking at this face make his heart ache so unbearably? A sob ripped from his throat before he could stop it. His shoulders trembled, and warm tears streamed down his cheeks, falling onto the canvas. His chest burned, but it wasn’t just pain—it was grief. A sorrow so deep, so consuming, that it felt as though he was mourning something he didn’t even understand. He couldn’t stop crying. He didn’t even know why. And then— Pain. A searing, stabbing pain exploded in his chest, stealing the breath from his lungs. He gasped, his fingers instinctively clutching at his heart. His vision swam, the room blurring around him. Something was wrong. His eyes darted back to the portrait. Blood. Dark red liquid seeped from Seokjin’s chest, right where his heart should be. It trickled down, staining the delicate fabric of his robes, dripping onto the canvas.Taehyung choked on his breath. His hands—his hands were shaking. His hands— His eyes widened in horror. They were covered in blood. Seokjin’s blood. A strangled cry tore from his lips. His body felt like it was burning from the inside out. His limbs weakened, his knees buckled beneath him. The last thing he saw before the darkness swallowed him whole was Seokjin’s sorrowful gaze staring back at him. And then— With a loud thud, Taehyung collapsed to the ground. ******************************************************************** The morning light streamed through the large windows, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. Namjoon sat in his office, the sun light flickering over the aged pages of the journal. His eyes burned from lack of sleep last night, but he refused to stop. He needed to focus—needed something to pull him away from the ache left by last night’s fight with Seokjin. He came straight to Uni, from Seokjin’s place. In the morning he saw the way his boyfriend silently plead him to not to go. But somewhere along the way Namjoon wanted to hurt him, even though Seokjin hadn’t done wrong. The only thing he did was hide the affair he had with Jungkook. But it is also reasonable since Seokjin has stopped it after they met. So why Namjoon couldn’t stay? Because deep down he knows Seokjin is mysterious. He can feel it. There is more to his story. Still, before leaving, he had pressed a gentle kiss to Seokjin’s forehead, whispering a promise to meet again. He ran his fingers over the delicate parchment, carefully deciphering the inked words.
“On the thirteenth night of the twelfth moon, His Majesty, King Kim Seokjin, received what he could no longer ignore—undeniable proof of his Queen’s betrayal. The Royal Secretariat, hesitant and burdened with grief, placed a sealed letter before him………”
Seokjin sat on the garden bench, the morning sun failing to chase away the chill in his chest. Namjoon’s eyes, full of sorrow, a look that haunted him. What if Namjoon would feel the same betrayal when he get to know that Seokjin is not a human, the same feeling he once felt when she had turned on him? The memory of her treachery hit him like a wave, sharp and bitter. The tears came without warning, slipping down his face as the weight of his fear and past crushed him. He couldn’t bear the thought of Namjoon looking at him the way he looked at his queen Kim Tae-ri—betrayed and lost. Namjoon’s eyes last night had dragged him back to this moment in time. A moment that changed everything.
"Your Majesty, I beg your forgiveness."
The Royal Secretariat’s voice trembled as he knelt before the golden throne, his hands carefully offering a folded parchment. Seokjin stared at it, his heart pounding.
"I do not wish to see this." His voice was cold, but his hands betrayed him, shaking ever so slightly as he reached for the letter.
Namjoon’s frown deepened as he continued reading.
“…………His Majesty hesitated. The weight of a thousand whispers pressed upon his shoulders, yet he had dismissed them all. Even as the court murmured of secret meetings and forbidden love, he had believed in her. He had trusted…………”
"Your Majesty… we have tried to protect you from this truth, but—"
"Enough."
Seokjin’s voice was sharp, cutting through the heavy air. He unfolded the letter, his breath catching as the scent of roses drifted up to meet him. Tae-ri’s favorite.
His gaze landed on the inked words, elegant and deliberate.
The world tilted.
Namjoon exhaled sharply, his chest growing heavy as he translated the next passage.
“……..His Majesty did not move. Did not speak. Those in the chamber dared not breathe as silence stretched, thick and suffocating. The King’s fingers tightened around the parchment, his knuckles white. But he did not tear it, did not burn it. He merely sat there, frozen, drowning in the truth laid before him……...”
Namjoon’s own fingers clenched around the edges of the journal. The pain written in these words—it felt too real. Too personal. Seokjin had heard the rumors before. Whispers of his Queen, Kim Tae-ri, slipping away in the dead of night. Stranger behaviors and secret meetings. He had ignored them all. But that night… The letter had been placed in his hands.
"Your Majesty…" The Royal Secretariat’s voice was careful, measured. "What would you have us do?"
Seokjin’s grip on the letter trembled.
"Where did you find this?" His voice was hoarse.
"It was intercepted before it could be delivered to its recipient, Your Majesty."
A bitter laugh threatened to escape his lips. Intercepted. A letter never meant for his eyes. A secret should have remained between his wife and another man.
His heart raced, the familiar rush of anger creeping up his spine like a burning flame.
His Queen. His companion. The one he thought he could trust amongst everyone.
“……….The King’s silence was heavier than any outburst of rage. Those present in the chamber dared not move, dared not breathe, as His Majesty sat frozen, his expression unreadable. But beneath that stillness, grief gnawed at him. Betrayal by one he had sworn to cherish. A bond turned to dust………”
Namjoon exhaled, rubbing his temple. The weight of the words sat heavily in his chest.
"Leave me."
The Royal Secretariat hesitated, but one look at the King’s expression sent him bowing deeply before retreating from the chamber.
And then—
Seokjin was alone.
The letter slipped from his fingers, fluttering to the ground. He pressed his hands to his face, his entire body trembling as a bitter laugh finally broke from his lips.
It wasn’t rage that consumed him.
It was grief.
He had welcomed her into his small circle. And she had never welcomed him back.
Seokjin clenched his fists as he shut his eyes, willing the memories away. But the ache in his chest refused to fade. The image of that letter, those words, were burned into his soul.
“I’m pregnant, Can I see you one last time?”
The letter said.
“……..The King did not weep. He did not scream. But those who saw him that night would later swear they had never seen a man more broken……..”
Namjoon shut the journal with a quiet thud, his hands gripping the worn leather cover tightly. His pulse was racing, his breath shallow. Why did this feel… too real? He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. A sudden, unbearable headache overtook Namjoon, sending a sharp, searing pain through his skull. He gripped his head tightly, his breath hitching. It was as if the scene from the journal wasn’t just something he had read—it was something he had witnessed, something he had lived. A horrible sensation clawed at him, like unseen hands trying to rip his eyes from their sockets. The pain was excruciating, a deep, piercing agony that made his body tremble. Just like the queen had felt… He tried to stand, but his legs buckled beneath him. “Arrghhhhhh,” Namjoon groaned, his voice strained with torment. With both hands, he clutched his head desperately, as if shielding himself from an invisible attack, from a force determined to tear him apart. The pain was relentless, drowning him in its grip, and all he could do was endure it. And then—his thoughts drifted back to last night. To Seokjin’s face, the way he had looked at him, the sadness in his eyes. It was the same sadness Namjoon had just translated. The same grief. The same pain. Namjoon swallowed hard, his vision blurring.
Just who are you, Seokjin?
*********************************************************************
Taehyung jolted awake, his body stiff and aching from the cold floor beneath him. Darkness enveloped the room, but the faint silver glow of the moon seeped through the curtains, casting soft shadows across Namjoon’s study. He groaned, his head throbbing painfully. Slowly, he lifted a trembling hand to his forehead, fingers brushing against something rough and dry. Blood. His skin prickled as he pulled his hand back, his fingertips stained with it. "Shit…" he muttered under his breath, wincing as he tried to sit up. Had he hit his head when he fainted? He groaned again, his muscles protesting as he pushed himself up onto shaky legs. His gaze flickered to the floor—where the rolled-up portrait lay once again, having fallen from when he fainted. He knew—knew that if he looked at it again, he wouldn’t be able to control whatever was happening to him. No. Not again. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to move. With trembling fingers, he reached for the portrait, touching it as if it were something dead and rotting. Carefully, he placed it back inside the box without unrolling it, avoiding even the slightest glimpse of the image that haunted him.His hands fumbled as he locked the box shut. He exhaled sharply, pressing his palm to his forehead. The pain throbbed in dull waves. He needed to clean up. Dragging himself out of Namjoon’s room, Taehyung shuffled towards his own bathroom, his footsteps sluggish and unsteady. Once inside, he flicked on the light, blinking as his reflection came into view. A mess. His dark hair was disheveled, his skin pale and clammy. And there, just above his left eyebrow, a small but noticeable cut with dried blood smeared around it.He sighed, bracing himself against the sink. Turning on the faucet, he cupped the cool water in his hands and splashed it onto his face, wincing as the sting of the cut sent a sharp jolt through him. "Ow—damn it," he hissed.Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the first-aid box from the cabinet, dabbing ointment onto the wound before covering it with a plaster. That was going to be a problem. Namjoon was going to notice.He groaned, already trying to come up with an excuse. He couldn’t tell his hyung the truth—not yet. Not until he spoke with Seokjin. Yes, Seokjin. Taehyung’s fingers tightened around the sink’s edge.There was no doubt anymore. Seokjin was connected to all of this. The portrait, the dreams, the emotions that didn’t feel like his own—everything pointed back to Seokjin. And he needed answers. Tomorrow—no, today, since it was already past midnight—he would meet Seokjin. He would tell him about the dream. He needed to know why this was happening.With a weary sigh, Taehyung turned off the light and stumbled toward his bed. He hesitated, his fingers hovering over his phone. A part of him wanted to text Jungkook, to hear his voice, to feel grounded in something real. But he couldn’t. Not now. Not when he didn’t even understand what was happening to him. He wouldn’t drag Jungkook into this. Instead, he lay down, pulling the blanket over himself. His eyes fluttered shut, but sleep didn’t come easily. For a long time, he simply stared at the ceiling, his mind restless, his body too exhausted yet too tense to fully relax. Please… no more nightmares. With that final, desperate thought, he let his eyelids fall shut, hoping that this time, sleep would be kinder. ******************************************************************** The soft trickle of water filled the air, mingling with the rustling of leaves as a gentle breeze passed through the garden. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows over the stone pathway where Seokjin stood, his hands steady as he watered the delicate white camellias. Despite the peaceful surroundings, an unease gnawed at his chest. Soobin’s crow form had landed on the stone railing moments ago, his dark eyes glinting with quiet intent.
"He’s here."
Seokjin had known this moment would come. Taehyung had texted him in the morning, asking to meet. He hadn't explained why, but Seokjin could already guess. The sword? Did he see it? Was that what he wanted to discuss? Or… was it about Jungkook? Had Namjoon told him already about last night? A thousand possibilities had run through Seokjin’s mind since receiving the message. Numerous times, he had picked up his phone, fingers hovering over the screen, ready to text Taehyung that they couldn’t meet. That today wasn’t a good time. That he wasn’t ready. But in the end, he had said yes instead. And now, here they were. Sitting side by side on the bench in front of the water fountain, neither of them speaking. Seokjin glanced at Taehyung from the corner of his eye. The younger man sat stiffly, his arms crossed, his expression tight with something unreadable. His posture was unusually tense, lacking its usual carefree charm. Even the way he breathed—slow, measured—felt restrained. For once, Taehyung wasn’t fidgeting, wasn’t swinging his legs or making some playful comment to break the tension. Instead, he looked… lost. And that unsettled Seokjin more than he cared to admit. He swallowed, setting his watering can aside. His hands rested in his lap as he finally broke the silence. “You look terrible.” Taehyung let out a dry chuckle, tilting his head back slightly to stare at the sky. “Thanks, hyung. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.” Seokjin sighed, rubbing his temple. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to guess?” Taehyung exhaled slowly, dropping his gaze to the water fountain. He traced patterns on the stone bench with his fingers, hesitating.Then, finally— “I saw the nightmare again.” Seokjin froze. His stomach twisted. He kept his expression neutral, but his fingers curled slightly against his lap. “Is that why you came all the way here?” Taehyung turned to face him fully, his eyes dark with something troubled. “Hyung, It wasn’t just a dream. This time I saw something new.” Seokjin’s throat felt dry. “What was it about?” he asked carefully. His lips pressed into a thin line. Taehyung turned to him then, his gaze sharp.“You,” he said, his voice quieter now, more cautious, “I saw you in my nightmare, hyung!” A beat of silence passed. Seokjin didn’t flinch, but something flickered in his eyes—too fast for Taehyung to catch. Then, he sighed. “Taehyung—” “Hyung.” Taehyung’s voice was firm. “Tell me the truth.” Taehyung’s gaze burned into Seokjin, his dark brown eyes heavy with an intensity that made Seokjin feel… exposed.Like Taehyung could see right through him.Like he already knew the answer but needed to hear it anyway. “Why were you in my nightmare, hyung?” Seokjin’s breath caught in his throat.A single question, yet it felt like a blade pressed against his neck.His fingers curled slightly against his lap, but his expression remained calm—controlled. Because the truth—the real truth—was too dangerous. He had known, deep in his bones, that this moment would come. That one day, Taehyung would see something—feel something—that would bring him closer to the truth. And if Seokjin told him now… If he let those words slip… Would Taehyung reach for the sword? Would he finally end this curse? Would he set Seokjin free? For centuries, that was all he had wanted.To rest. To be at peace.But now—now—he couldn't. Because of Namjoon. Because the thought of leaving without seeing him one last time, without telling him—Seokjin swallowed, his hands tightening into fists. He couldn’t. Not yet. Seokjin forced himself to meet Taehyung’s eyes and opened his mouth to say, “I don’t know.” But, “I was murdered by you,” Seokjin finally said. Because at the same time Seokjin was tired of lying to people he care, he love… Taehyung stood frozen, his breath shallow, his hands curled into fists at his sides. His heart pounded violently against his ribs as he looked at Seokjin, hoping—praying—that what he just heard was a mistake. That his ears were playing a cruel trick on him.But the weight in Seokjin’s gaze told him otherwise. “I was murdered by you,not in this life but in your previous life time. ” Seokjin repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, yet each word slammed into Taehyung’s chest like a heavy stone. Taehyung stumbled back a step, his vision blurring. “W-What?” he choked out. “Hyung… what did you just say?” “I know, Tae,” Seokjin murmured, his voice laced with grief. “I know this is something you can’t believe. But it’s the truth.” Taehyung shook his head violently, his hands trembling. “No… no, that can’t be. I would never— I could never—” Seokjin inhaled shakily, looking at him with sorrowful eyes. “Tae, you know I was a king before I became what I am now,” he said, his voice distant as if he was recalling a memory buried deep within his soul. “The night I died… the moonlight silver against the palace gardens. I was walking alone, my mind drifting into thoughts of my messy life… And then—” Seokjin’s voice cracked. Taehyung flinched. “Before I could take another step forward, a blade pierced through my back.” Seokjin’s fingers curled around his chest as though he could still feel the sword buried in his body. “Cold, sharp, and merciless. The pain… God, the pain was unbearable.” His breath hitched, and he closed his eyes, reliving the agony. “I collapsed onto the ground, my blood pooling beneath me, my vision blurring as my strength faded.” Taehyung was shaking, unable to tear his eyes away from Seokjin’s broken expression. “I died that night, Tae.” Seokjin’s voice wavered. “Or… I should have.” Taehyung’s lips parted, but no words came out. “But fate was cruel,” Seokjin whispered. “Instead of letting me rest, the God of Fate brought me back—forced me into this existence, gave me a single task. To find my murderer.” He exhaled, his shoulders trembling. “Only the one who killed me can see the sword still buried in my body. And only they can pull it out and free me from this miserable, endless cycle.” Taehyung felt the world spin around him. His breath came in ragged gasps as he clutched his chest, his heart pounding erratically. “No…” he muttered. “No, no, no—Hyung, I would never… I would never do that to you.” Seokjin let out a bitter, broken laugh. “Tae.. As I said it was not YOU, It was your previous life.. Maybe you had your reasons. I don't know..Tae. I thought there was no way it could be you. But then, the signs… the signs were there, and I couldn’t ignore them anymore.” Taehyung shook his head, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “How do you know it was me?” Seokjin’s eyes locked onto his, raw and filled with unspoken agony. “The first time we saw each other again… at the party organized by Jimin,” Seokjin began, his tone eerily calm. “Do you remember?” Taehyung nodded, throat too tight to speak. “You recognized me,” Seokjin said. “You recognized me as the man you met ten years ago. Do you know how impossible that is?” His voice trembled. “After I help someone, I always cast a spell so they forget. But you… you remembered me.” Taehyung’s breath hitched. He didn’t know where this was going, but something in him already knew he wasn’t going to like the answer. “And then, you hugged me.” Seokjin swallowed hard. “And the moment your arms wrapped around me… I felt it.” “Felt what?” Taehyung’s voice was barely audible. “The pain.” Seokjin touched his chest as if the memory of it still burned. “Unbearable. Crippling. It spread through my body like fire, and the longer you held on, the worse it became.” He let out a shaky breath. “That day, I knew. I knew you and I were connected in ways I never imagined.” Taehyung staggered back, his knees weak. “No,” he whispered. Seokjin stepped closer, his eyes dark with sorrow. “And then… you told me about your dreams.” Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t.” “You dreamed of me, Tae,” Seokjin said softly, but his words carried the weight of the past. “You saw me in your nightmares. I think..you are seeing me dying Tae...” Taehyung gasped, his breath catching in his throat. Seokjin pressed. “Every time we touched, the pain in my chest worsened. And yet… you still don’t want to believe me?” Taehyung was trembling violently now. “Tell me, Tae.” Seokjin’s voice cracked. “Can you see it now? The sword? The one you left in me?” Taehyung’s entire body locked up. “I—I can’t see anything right now Jin hyung,” he stammered. “But… I don’t know why—I feel like I believe you. I don’t want to, but—” He clutched his chest, his breathing ragged. “I see you every night in my nightmares. I feel the pain. And…” He hesitated before whispering, “When I saw your portrait, I felt it too.” Seokjin’s eyes widened. “What portrait?” Taehyung looked away, guilt clouding his face. “I—I wasn’t supposed to see it.” “What portrait, Taehyung?!” Seokjin demanded, grabbing Tahyung’s shoulders.. “There’s an old portrait of you,” Taehyung admitted. “You’re wearing the same robe I always see in my dreams.” Seokjin’s hands clenched at his sides. “Where is it?” Taehyung hesitated, then finally muttered, “Namjoon hyung has it.” Seokjin froze. “WHAT?!” Taehyung flinched at the sheer force of his voice. “How?” Seokjin’s breathing was erratic now, his mind racing. “I don’t know,” Taehyung admitted. “He’s very secretive about it. He never wanted me to see it. But I accidentally found it on his desk. And last night… I realized—it’s you.” Seokjin staggered back as if someone had punched the air from his lungs. His hands trembled, his vision swayed. How? How did Tae-ri’s work end up in Namjoon’s hands? Is this why Namjoon was after him? Seokjin’s head throbbed, his entire being shaking with disbelief.“Hyung… Jin hyung…” Taehyung called out weakly, but his voice felt distant. Seokjin felt the world crumble around him. Everything he thought he knew… everything he tried to piece together… was slipping through his fingers. “Jin Hyung.. are you okay?” Tae asked worriedly.. “Yeahh…I’m f-fine Tae…” Seokjin said, even though his chest rising and falling with the weight of his uneven breaths. “Hyung..If I’m the o-one…then why can’t I s-see the sword?” Seokjin exhaled shakily, “I don’t know, Tae…” he admitted, his voice almost too soft. “But I will find out.” “So… does that mean…” Taehyung’s voice cracked, and he bit his lip, as if speaking the words out loud would make them real. He forced himself to look into Seokjin’s eyes, searching for something—anything—that would prove him wrong. “Does that mean I have to end your existence?” Seokjin forced a small, bittersweet smile. “It’s not like that, Tae.” Taehyung clenched his fists. His eyes stung. “But I—I can’t do that, hyung,” he choked out. “I can’t kill you again.” A sharp silence fell between them. The words hung heavy in the air, suffocating, impossible to ignore. Seokjin’s eyes softened with something unreadable—regret, sadness, maybe even something close to forgiveness. He reached out as if to comfort Taehyung but hesitated, curling his fingers into his palm. He sighed. “I won’t ask you for that favor… not until I want it.” Taehyung flinched. The way Seokjin said it—it wasn’t a matter of if, but when. It wasn’t just an abstract idea. It was real. A future decision that Taehyung would one day have to face. His throat tightened, and his body tensed with the urge to reach out—to hold Seokjin. But this time… This time, he didn’t. He knew. He knew that if he wrapped his arms around Seokjin, it would only bring him pain. So instead, Taehyung took a shaky step back, his hands curling into fists at his sides, his heart aching with the need to do something—anything—but knowing that, for once, there was nothing he could do. Seokjin watched him carefully, his eyes lingering on the space between them. And though he didn’t say it, Taehyung could feel it. The distance between them had never felt wider. *********************************************************************** The rhythmic sound of a stamp pressing onto parchment. Yoongi, the demon, sat behind his massive desk, his fingers lazily flipping through stacks of soul records. Each file he stamped signified a soul passing through his gates—some destined for reincarnation, others for eternal damnation. His sharp, onyx eyes barely lifted as a presence materialized before him, but he felt it. A sudden shift in the air, a faint golden glow creeping into the dim chamber—an energy far too lively for a place like this. Yoongi sighed, already knowing who it was. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice flat, his hand pausing mid-stamp. The man before him smirked, arms crossed in mock amusement. "Is this how you greet your seniors? Should I send you back to hell instead?" Yoongi finally looked up, his eyes meeting a pair of warm, honey-brown ones that held far too much mischief for their own good. Heart-shaped lips curled into a smirk, a golden aura radiating from his very being as if the darkness of the underworld couldn’t touch him. Jung Hoseok.
The God of Fate.
Yoongi's expression remained cold. "Hoseok… What is it now? I'm doing what you asked, and you have no reason to show up here." But deep down, he knew. He knew that what he was doing with Jimin was forbidden. And if the God of Fate was standing before him now, is it because he is exposed? Fear curled in his chest, not for himself, but for Jimin. If Hoseok had come to interfere, would he— Hoseok grinned wider, completely unfazed. “Yoongi-ah, why are you like this? Aren’t we old friends?” He took a step closer, spreading his arms dramatically. “Come on, give me a hug.” Yoongi barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He hated this about Hoseok—how he was so insufferably bright, so damn hyperactive, acting as if everything in existence was one big cosmic joke only he was in on. “Not in the mood,” Yoongi muttered. But Hoseok, being Hoseok, ignored him entirely and threw an arm around his shoulder anyway, giving him a quick side hug before gracefully throwing himself onto the couch across from him. He sprawled there, golden robes flowing like liquid light, eyes sparkling with amusement.“So,” he drawled, resting his chin on his palm, “how’s life, Yoongi?” Yoongi exhaled through his nose, stamping another record with more force than necessary. “Boring.” “I see.” Hoseok tapped a finger against his temple, pretending to be deep in thought. “Should I spice it up?” That got Yoongi’s attention. His eyes flickered to the god suspiciously. “What?” Hoseok grinned. “Since you’ve been doing such a good job, I feel generous today. I’d like to offer you a favor.” Yoongi narrowed his eyes. “What kind of favor?” “If you want to know someone’s past,” Hoseok said, tone deceptively casual. “Their previous lives… which one would you pick?” Yoongi stiffened. He knew this was a trap. The past was forbidden knowledge, locked away even from demons like him. No one had the right to tamper with fate, not even the gods themselves—unless, of course, Hoseok deemed it necessary. “It’s forbidden,” Yoongi said slowly. “It’s forbidden…” Hoseok echoed, before grinning slyly, “until I give permission.” Yoongi clenched his jaw. He knew Hoseok wasn’t just here for idle chatter—he never was. Which meant… he already knew. Yoongi leaned forward slightly, his voice firm. “Kim Taehyung.” Hoseok’s smirk deepened. His expression was knowing, as if he had expected this all along. “Granted,” he said. And just like that, the air in the underworld shifted.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Seokjin sat in Yoongi’s office, the dim glow of candlelight flickering against the dark wood shelves stacked with ancient tomes. The scent of burning incense filled the air, mixing with the faint metallic tang of Yoongi’s presence. The demon sat behind his grand desk, sipping lazily from a crystal glass filled with something dark—something that definitely wasn’t wine. His eyes, as dark as the void itself, flickered toward Seokjin with mild curiosity. "You look like shit," Yoongi muttered, placing his glass down with a soft clink. "What happened?" Seokjin leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he dragged a hand down his face. His voice was raw, quiet—almost hesitant. "Namjoon found out." Yoongi’s expression didn’t change, but Seokjin didn’t miss the way the demon’s fingers stilled against the rim of his glass. "About which one of your secret?" Yoongi asked, with like a mocking tone. Seokjin gave a small, broken laugh. "That, me and Jungkook…" He swallowed, forcing himself to say it. "Jungkook came last night and I was with Namjoon, he got upset and I had to calm him down.But Namjoon was suspicious and I told him what we did in the past." For the first time, Yoongi let out a low whistle. "Well, shit." Seokjin slumped further, his shoulders tight with frustration. "He’s upset with me. He went early in the morning to Uni, even though he promised to spend the day with me, Yoongi. I need to fix this—I need to tell him the truth. All of it." Yoongi studied him for a long moment, tapping his fingers against his desk. Then, with a sigh, he leaned back in his chair. "That’s probably the smartest thing you’ve ever said," Yoongi admitted. "There’s no point in hiding your identity from Namjoon anymore. Before he finds out from someone else, it’s better to tell him in person." Seokjin let out a slow breath, nodding. "I know." Yoongi tilted his head. "And…what else?" Seokjin straightened, determination burning in his chest. "That I love him." Yoongi arched a brow. “Great!” Seokjin’s lips twitched. "And that I’m sorry, obviously." Yoongi chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, good luck with that, Romeo." Seokjin huffed but didn’t argue. He hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Also I told Taehyung the truth." Yoongi’s eyes darkened. "About the sword?" Seokjin nodded, looking down at his hands. "He kept seeing me in his nightmares. Every single night. It was… eating away at him. He asked me why I’m in his nightmares. So I had to come clean, Yoongi. Now he knows." Seokjin exhaled sharply. "He knows that in his past life, he murdered me." A heavy silence filled the room. Yoongi swirled the dark liquid in his glass, watching the way it caught the light. "And how’s he handling that?" Seokjin scoffed. "How do you think? He was shaken, obviously. But… I don’t think he hates me for it." He sighed. "At least, not yet." Yoongi hummed in thought, taking another sip from his drink. Seokjin bit his lip before adding, "Oh, and I found out something else, too." Yoongi gave him a lazy glance. "Taehyung told me that Namjoon has an old painting of me." Seokjin’s voice dropped slightly, as if even saying it aloud made the whole thing more surreal. "One that was painted by Tae-ri." That finally got Yoongi’s full attention.' Seokjin smirked. "I was surprised too, Yoongi. Which makes me wonder…" He narrowed his eyes slightly. "Do you think perhaps Namjoon is Tae-ri’s —" "Don’t talk nonsense." Yoongi’s voice was sharp, cutting Seokjin off before he could even finish the thought.Seokjin blinked. "Okay, okay, I won’t ask, I know asking someone’s past life is forbidden.." he muttered, holding up his hands in surrender. "Geez." Silence stretched between them for a beat. Then, Seokjin huffed, leaning back in his seat. "But you know what’s still a mystery?"Yoongi gave him a flat look. Seokjin groaned, running his hands through his hair. "Taehyung still can’t see my sword." Yoongi’s expression didn’t change, but Seokjin caught the slight twitch in his fingers. "Why is that, Yoongi? I’m fucking stuck there! Goshhhh—" Seokjin threw his hands in the air dramatically. Yoongi let out an amused sigh before leaning forward, voice lower, more serious. "You have to go to the beginning of the problem, Jin." Seokjin stilled. His breath caught in his throat as he slowly turned to face Yoongi, his eyes wide. The beginning. Seokjin swallowed hard. ***************************************************************************** Jungkook groaned, blinking against the evening daylight streaming through the curtains. His head throbbed, his mouth dry as sandpaper. He forced himself to sit up, rubbing his temples. "Shit…" His body ached from sleeping on the couch. The whiskey bottle was gone—probably shattered somewhere on the floor—but he didn’t care. Dragging himself to the kitchen, he boiled water and grabbed a cup of instant ramen. He stirred the noodles absentmindedly, his stomach twisting in protest. One bite. He gagged. Jungkook pushed the bowl away, gripping the counter. The pain, the sadness—everything that had suffocated him last night—was fading. Now, something else was taking its place. Rage. Jungkook’s fingers clenched into fists. His jaw tightened. He turned on his heels, walking straight to the corner of his apartment where his boxing bag hung from the ceiling. Without hesitation, he threw a punch.
Thud!
The impact sent the bag swinging, but it wasn’t enough.Another punch. Harder.
Thud!
His knuckles throbbed, but he welcomed the pain.Jungkook gritted his teeth. "Fuck you, Seokjin-hyung." A right hook. "Fuck you for not loving me." A jab. "Fuck you for choosing him." A devastating uppercut. "And fuck Taehyung—" His breath was ragged, sweat dripping from his forehead. "—for ever making me doubt my self." His bare knuckles were already raw, a deep red blooming across his skin, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He gritted his teeth, sweat dripping down his temple, his breath ragged. His phone lay abandoned on the couch behind him, Taehyung’s messages piling up like unanswered questions he wasn’t ready to face. He ignored them. Like he had since last night. Fuck. Last night. The memory slammed into him like a punch to the gut, and his fists faltered against the bag. He had seen them. Namjoon and Seokjin. Seokjin moaning under Namjoon’s touch, his head thrown back, lips parted, eyes half-lidded with pleasure. The way Namjoon’s hands held him—possessive, like he had every right to touch him like that. The way Seokjin let him. It was the final nail in Jungkook’s coffin. Seokjin would never be his. He sucked in a sharp breath, shaking his head violently as if that could erase the image burned into his mind. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms. The truth had been in front of him for so long, but last night, he felt it. He finally saw it. Seokjin had already chosen. "Fuckkkkkk!" Jungkook roared, swinging wildly at the bag. His body ached, but not as much as his chest. He punched harder. The pain in his knuckles felt good. It was better than the hollow ache inside him. He still loved Jin. That much, he knew. But not the way he used to—not with the same reckless obsession that once consumed him. He wanted Jin, wanted to keep him close, wanted to own him in some twisted, possessive way. But then… then Taehyung’s face flashed in his mind, and his rhythm faltered. Jungkook snarled. No. Why? Why was this happening to him? Why did Taehyung’s voice haunt him? His stupid, beautiful smile. The way he pouted when he was ignored. The way he made Jungkook feel something he wasn’t ready for. He squeezed his eyes shut. "What is going on with me? Fuckkkk, I’m screwed." Another punch. Harder. His knuckles throbbed, but the pain wasn’t enough."Shit..." His breath came in sharp gasps. "I don’t know what I’m doing anymore."The truth clawed at his throat, suffocating him. God, please… He braced his forearm against the bag, forehead pressed against the cool leather, body trembling. "I’ll break up with Taehyung. Please, just give me the courage to do it."His voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "I can’t lead him on anymore." Silence. The only sound was his own erratic breathing. His own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Jungkook opened his eyes, staring blankly at the bruises forming on his knuckles. He exhaled slowly. "JUNGKOOK!" A desperate voice shattered the suffocating silence of the apartment.Jungkook barely flinched. He was sitting on the floor, his back against the cold wall, fingers digging into his palms. The air felt too thick, too heavy to breathe. Taehyung stood in the doorway, chest heaving, eyes wide with fear. Jungkook exhaled slowly, voice rough. "What are you doing here?" Taehyung stepped inside without hesitation. "I was worried!" His voice cracked. "I texted you! I called you! But you never responded!" Jungkook remained silent. Taehyung’s gaze darted around the dark apartment—the untouched food on the table, the dim lighting, the air reeking of sweat and exhaustion. "I rang the bell, but you didn’t show up." His voice wavered. "So I came inside."Jungkook turned his face away, his jaw clenched. Taehyung swallowed hard, taking a slow step closer. "What are you doing, Kookie? What happened?" Jungkook didn’t answer. Something about his silence made Taehyung’s chest tighten with dread.He moved forward, arms reaching out. "Come here," he whispered. "Let me—" Jungkook jerked back. "You should go." The rejection was like a slap. Taehyung’s breath hitched. "What?" Jungkook’s expression remained unreadable, but the way his fists clenched—like he was bracing himself—made something snap inside Taehyung. "Why are you doing this to me, Kook-ah?" His voice shook, thick with emotion. "I was worried sick, thinking something happened to you, and now you’re—you’re ignoring me?"Jungkook didn’t move. Taehyung took another step, his hands trembling. "Did I do something wrong?" His eyes burned. "Please, tell me—I don’t care what it is, just don’t shut me out like this!" His voice cracked, his heart pounding against his ribs. But Jungkook stepped back. A shaky breath left Taehyung’s lips. "Why do you worry about me, Taehyung?" Jungkook’s voice was quiet. Too quiet. Taehyung’s stomach dropped. His lips parted, but no words came out. Jungkook lifted his head, meeting his gaze. "Tell me." Taehyung’s throat tightened. His entire body trembled, but this time, it wasn’t from fear.It was from rage. From pain. From love. And before he could stop himself—before he could think—he screamed, "Because I love you, you idiot!" Jungkook froze. Taehyung’s breath came in harsh pants, his vision blurring. "Didn’t you feel it?" His voice was raw, breaking. "From the beginning, I wanted you. I didn’t plan to fall in love with you, but it—it happened." Jungkook’s fingers twitched. Taehyung took a shaky breath. "Why are you acting like this, Kook-ah?" He swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper. "Didn’t you like me back?" Jungkook flinched. Taehyung’s tears slipped down his cheeks. "You kissed me yesterday… in front of everyone." His voice wobbled. "You were jealous because of that scene, weren’t you?"Jungkook’s shoulders tensed. Taehyung’s breath hitched. "Then why are you acting like this?"His voice was full of heartbreak, pleading. "Please, let me hug you," he whispered. "You’re scaring me, Jungkook." But Jungkook wasn’t here anymore. His worst fear had come true. He had led Taehyung on. And now— Now, he had broken him. Jungkook exhaled, his expression eerily calm. "It was all an act, Taehyung." The words cut through the silence like a blade.Taehyung blinked. "What?" Jungkook’s gaze remained steady, devoid of warmth. "I don’t like you." A deafening silence filled the space between them.Taehyung took a step back, his breath faltering. "But—but you kissed me—" "Just listen to me." Jungkook’s voice was cold, detached. "I love Seokjin hyung. Not you. For fuck’s sake, Taehyung." Taehyung’s eyes widened in disbelief. "You’re lying." Jungkook’s jaw tightened. "No, Taehyung. It’s the truth." He inhaled sharply before continuing, voice unwavering. "Even though I loved him, he never reciprocated my feelings. So I used you." Taehyung felt the room spin. "I wanted to make him jealous by being with you." A sharp breath left Taehyung’s lips. His chest constricted, his fingers trembling as he clutched his shirt. "No…" He shook his head, his voice breaking. "No, no, no—" Jungkook stood still as Taehyung staggered back, his whole world shattering. "Whatever we had… it was all a lie?" Jungkook’s lips parted—Not all of it. He wanted to say it. But he didn’t. Instead, he clenched his fists. "Let’s stop this, Taehyung." His voice was strained, but he forced himself to continue. "I never meant for you to fall in love with me." Taehyung’s tears slipped down his cheeks. "Then why are you telling me this now?" His voice cracked, desperate. Jungkook let out a bitter chuckle. "Because last night, I realized something." His gaze darkened. "Seokjin-hyung never loved me. He’s fucking in love with your brother." The air grew still. And then—
Smack!
Jungkook’s head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging. Taehyung’s hand trembled, his eyes filled with fury and heartbreak. "You’re a jerk," he hissed, his voice venomous. Jungkook slowly touched his cheek, the pain dull compared to the storm raging inside him."I know." Tears streamed down Taehyung’s face as he turned on his heels, running out of the apartment, his sobs echoing in the hallway. Jungkook stood frozen, his breathing ragged. His chest burned. He told himself this was for the best. But then—He clenched his fists. Why? Why did he hate seeing Taehyung like that? Why did the agony in Taehyung’s face feel unbearable? His teeth ground together. All of this… because of Seokjin-hyung. Jungkook grabbed his car keys, yanking open the door before slamming it shut behind him. ********************************************************************** Namjoon wasn’t in the mood to lecture today. The persistent headache had been nagging at him since morning, dull but unrelenting. However, his students had placed their trust in him, looking to him for guidance in their studies. He couldn’t simply abandon them. So, despite the discomfort, he carried on with his lectures, maintaining his composure and ensuring his students received the knowledge they came for. Once the lecture was finally over, Namjoon let out a quiet sigh of relief and made his way to his office. He checked his phone and saw few messages from Jin, so he mentally made a note to give him a call once he left the uni. He gathered his belongings, eyes landing on the journal resting on his desk—the same one he had been reading that morning before the headache set in. He hadn’t touched it since. Reaching out, he was about to close it when a knock on the door interrupted him. "Come in," Namjoon called, rubbing his temples. The door opened, revealing Yeonjun, his assistant. The younger man stepped inside, clutching a few documents to his chest. "Are you heading home, sir?" Yeonjun asked hesitantly. Namjoon exhaled and nodded. "Ah, yes, Yeonjun. What about you? Did you finish your research? Did you find anything?" At that, Yeonjun hesitated. He scratched the back of his neck, shifting on his feet before sighing. "Err… about that… I’m really sorry, sir. There's nothing. No records, no articles—nothing on Kim Seokjin. I tried so hard, but it’s like he doesn’t exist. I feel so incompetent." Namjoon frowned at the younger man’s words. He could see the disappointment in Yeonjun’s eyes, the frustration at coming up empty-handed despite the effort. Namjoon set his things down and shook his head. "Hey, don’t say that." His tone was firm but reassuring. "If you weren’t talented, I would have never chosen you to work with me. Don't ever think of yourself that way." Yeonjun blinked, then gave a small, sheepish smile. "Thank you, sir. That means a lot." Namjoon gave a nod before picking up the journal. "As for our research…" He opened the worn pages and glanced at the text, his fingers tracing the inked words. "I’m almost done translating this journal. There are only a few pages left, and I’d like you to review the final pages and translate it." Yeonjun stepped forward, carefully taking the book from Namjoon’s hands. "Of course, sir. I’ll do it..” “Take your time. Once you're done, send me the translation via email, and I’ll go through it thoroughly." “Sure sir..” Namjoon gave him a satisfied nod. "Soo that’s the plan." He reached for his coat, draping it over his arm as he turned toward the door. "I’ll be heading out then." Yeonjun straightened and gave a respectful bow. "Have a nice evening, sir. I won’t disappoint you." Namjoon paused for a moment, then offered a small, proud smile. "I know you won’t." With that, he stepped out of the office, headed towards the parking lot. Namjoon slid into the driver’s seat, exhaling heavily as he leaned his head against the headrest for a moment. His temples still throbbed—a dull, persistent ache that had refused to subside since the morning. Maybe it was from overworking himself. Maybe it was from reading the journal. Or maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever the reason, all he wanted right now was to go home, crawl into bed, and sleep off this headache. But he knew that if he went straight to Seokjin’s place, sleep wouldn’t come easy. Jin would immediately notice something was off. And if he admitted to having a headache, Jin would worry. Namjoon didn’t want that. Not tonight. So instead, he reached for his phone, scrolling through his recent calls before tapping on Seokjin’s name. The phone barely rang once before Jin picked up."Joon-ah, where are you?" Seokjin’s voice was immediate, laced with curiosity and something close to concern. Namjoon smiled faintly. "Jinnie, baby… I’m heading home." His tone was gentle, knowing that Jin had probably been expecting him to come over. "I have an early lecture in the morning, so I’ll come see you tomorrow after class. My lecture ends at one."That was a white lie. Tomorrow was his day off. But it wasn’t a harmful lie, Namjoon reasoned. No one would get hurt from this. It was just an excuse to get a proper night’s sleep without Jin fussing over him. There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Oh…" Seokjin finally said, his voice slightly subdued.Namjoon could almost see the sulking pout on Jin’s face, the way his lips would press together in disappointment. His heart clenched. "Baby, I’m sorry," Namjoon murmured, his voice soft. Seokjin huffed. "It’s fine. I just thought…" he trailed off before quickly adding, "Never mind. Get some rest, okay?" Namjoon sighed. "Jinnie…" "No, no, it’s okay! It’s not like I was waiting or anything." Jin’s voice had that distinct playful but totally-not-okay tone. "Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow, right?" Namjoon chuckled lightly. "Yeah, baby. Tomorrow." Seokjin was quiet for a beat, then softly said, "Good night, Joon-ah." "Good night, Angel." As Namjoon ended the call and set his phone aside, he felt the faintest pang of guilt.Would it really have been so bad to just go to him? But then his headache pulsed again, and he shook the thought away.Tomorrow. He would see Seokjin tomorrow. For now, all he needed was rest. ************************************************************************** Seokjin stood frozen, staring at the beautifully set dinner table in front of him. The flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across the plates, the wine glasses, the carefully plated dishes he had made with so much hope. Everything was perfect—except for the empty seat across from him. Seokjin’s vision blurred as he let out a shaky breath. He had planned everything tonight. He wanted to tell Namjoon the truth—about his past, his identity, everything he had kept hidden for so long. He wanted to tell him that he loved him, that he had loved him since the first time he saw him. But Namjoon… Namjoon wasn’t coming. His fingers curled into fists as he whispered, “You’re still angry, aren’t you? You’re ignoring me, Namjoon.” His voice cracked on the last syllable. A bitter laugh bubbled up in his throat, but it turned into a choked sob. “Why? Why can’t I have just one peaceful moment? Am I really that unlucky?” He ran a hand through his hair, gripping at the strands as he tried to steady himself. His heart ached, the pain clawing at his chest, suffocating him. “Ever since my childhood… No one loved me. My mother hated me. My father never acknowledged me. My queen—” his voice wavered, and he clenched his jaw. “She betrayed me. And now you, Namjoon… you’re ignoring me too…” His eyes landed on the bouquet of red roses sitting on the counter—the ones he had picked out at Hobi’s flower shop earlier that day, hoping to surprise Namjoon. His fingers brushed over the petals, his shoulders shaking. “I’m sorry, guys,” he whispered to the flowers, forcing out a hollow chuckle. “You’re going to waste.” He wiped at his tear-streaked face and straightened up, reaching for the bouquet. But before he could touch it— BANG. The door slammed open so hard that the walls seemed to shake.Seokjin gasped, spinning around, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. For a brief, fleeting second, he thought—Namjoon. But the moment his eyes landed on the person standing in the doorway, his stomach dropped. “Jungkook?” he breathed out, his voice barely above a whisper. Jungkook stood there, his fists clenched at his sides, his whole body trembling. His dark eyes were burning, red-rimmed, filled with something raw and unreadable. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, like he had been running, like he had been fighting something within himself. Seokjin took a hesitant step forward, worry creeping into his tone. “Jungkook… what’s wrong?” Jungkook didn’t answer. He just looked at Seokjin, eyes filled with something dark, something on the verge of breaking. And then, in a voice so low it was almost a growl, he spoke. “Hyung…” He swallowed thickly, his voice shaking. "You ruined everything," Jungkook spat, voice sharp as a knife. Seokjin blinked, momentarily stunned. "Jungkook, what—" "Don't act clueless! Don't fucking do that!" Jungkook’s voice cracked, his fists trembling at his sides. Seokjin’s expression shifted from confusion to something guarded. "What are you talking about?" Jungkook let out a bitter laugh. "You know exactly what I'm talking about!" His voice was sharp, cracking under the weight of his emotions. Seokjin stood up slowly, placing his book aside. "Jungkook, calm down—" "Don't you fucking say that to me!" Jungkook snapped. "You broke me! You broke Taehyung!" Seokjin’s lips parted slightly, shock flashing in his eyes. "Taehyung?" Jungkook scoffed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "You don't even know, do you? You were so busy with Namjoon, so caught up in whatever the fuck you have with him, that you never even noticed Taehyung!" Seokjin’s face softened, but Jungkook wasn’t done. "He loves me Hyung," Jungkook seethed. "That idiot fell in love with me, and because of you—because of fucking you—I had to break him." His voice trembled. "I had to tell him that I never loved him. That I used him. Do you have any idea how it felt to see him cry like that?" Seokjin’s breath hitched. "What…?" Jungkook stepped closer, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I used him, hyung." His voice cracked, his fists clenching so tight that his knuckles turned white. "I used him to make you jealous. I fucked him while thinking about you. I kissed him and imagined it was you. I fucking—" His breath shuddered. "—pretended he was you every single time." Seokjin’s hand flew across Jungkook’s cheek before he even realized what he was doing. SMACK! The sound echoed in the silent room. Jungkook’s head snapped to the side, his dark hair falling messily over his face. A faint red mark bloomed on his cheek, but he didn’t move. Then, slowly… He laughed. A low, humorless, madman’s laugh. He lifted his head, his lips curling into a twisted smirk as his eyes glistened with pain."Oh… now you care?" He let out another sharp laugh, shaking his head. "Now you give a shit?" Seokjin’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. "How dare you, Jeon Jungkook."Jungkook’s smirk faltered for a second, but he held his ground. Seokjin stepped forward, fury blazing in his eyes. "I thought—finally—you were over me. That’s why I supported you two!" His voice rose, shaking with emotion. "I even told Namjoon you were a good guy! I told him to let Taehyung date you, convinced him that you wouldn't hurt him!" Jungkook’s expression twisted, his jaw tightening. Seokjin’s voice broke. "Now how the hell am I supposed to face him?" Jungkook scoffed, shaking his head with a bitter chuckle. "Of course." He licked his lips, eyes narrowing. "Of course, you only care about what Namjoon thinks." Seokjin's eyes widened slightly. Jungkook took a step closer, invading his space. "You want to please him so bad, huh?" His voice dripped with venom. Seokjin lifted his chin, his breath uneven but his resolve firm. "Of course, I will please him." His voice was steady now. "Because I love him, Jungkook." Jungkook's face contorted, his hands clenching at his sides. Seokjin inhaled sharply, his voice softening but deadly. "Unlike you, I’m not using someone’s feelings to fill the void in my heart." Jungkook let out a broken laugh. Seokjin swallowed hard, his hand still trembling from the impact of the slap.Jungkook took a step forward, caging Seokjin in against the wall. "Look at the one who is talking about love…fuck I’m surprised that you are not the god of love but a fucking phantom….You knew how I felt about you," he whispered, voice dangerously soft. "You knew I loved you. And yet—" his fingers brushed over Seokjin’s lips, voice trembling with rage. "You still fucked me senseless every damn night, didn't you?" Seokjin opened his mouth, but no words came out. Jungkook chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "You used me, hyung. You used my body, my feelings, my fucking soul—" His breath hitched, voice breaking. "And I let you." Seokjin’s eyes burned. "Jungkook—" "Shut up!" Jungkook slammed his fist against the wall beside Seokjin’s head, his entire body trembling. "Now you care about everyone? Now you have a fucking conscience?" His voice dripped with bitterness. "After using me for so long, now you suddenly care about some random guy?" His lips curled into a mocking smirk. "How ironic, hyung." Seokjin’s heart shattered. Because Jungkook was right. He had known. He had always known. And he had let it happen anyway. Jungkook’s face was dangerously close, his breath warm against Seokjin’s lips. His dark eyes burned with something unhinged—anger, desperation, a twisted sense of longing. "You sure are inhuman, hyung," he whispered, his voice so low it was almost a growl. And then— He crashed his lips onto Seokjin’s. It wasn’t like before. It wasn’t how they used to kiss. This felt so wrong. Seokjin’s stomach churned as Jungkook’s lips moved against his own, forceful and demanding. He struggled, his hands pushing against Jungkook’s chest, but the younger was too strong. Jungkook grabbed his wrists, pinning them above his head. Then, with a swift movement, he pressed Seokjin on the wall, his knees caging him in, completely trapping him. Seokjin squirmed, his heart hammering. "S-stop," he gasped between the forced kiss, turning his face away, tried to push Jungkook with his human strength. But Jungkook’s grip tightened. No—he couldn’t let this happen. This wasn’t right. His body didn’t want this. His body only craved one person. And that person was Namjoon. The mere thought of Namjoon—his warmth, his touch, his love—sent a violent surge through Seokjin’s body. His eyes snapped open. And they were gold. A blinding golden glow radiated from his irises, illuminating the dimly lit room. And then— Everything shifted. The air became dense, vibrating with an otherworldly force. Jungkook barely had a second to react before an invisible force slammed into him.His body was lifted off Seokjin, the pressure so strong it felt like an iron grip wrapped around his throat. His eyes widened in shock as his fingers clawed at the air, trying to fight against the unseen power holding him captive. "H-Hyung—?" But Seokjin wasn’t listening. His hands trembled, but his powers did not. Jungkook was thrown backward. Hard. His body flew across the room, colliding into the wooden chairs and shattering them on impact. A loud crash echoed through the space as Jungkook hit the ground with a painful thud, groaning as he clutched his side. Seokjin staggered back, his chest heaving. His golden eyes flickered, his body still tense with the remnants of his unleashed power. “Seokjin?” Seokjin’s breath hitched. His body went still. He turned slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. And then—he saw him. Namjoon. Standing at the doorway. Eyes wide. Horrified. The world tilted beneath Seokjin’s feet. Namjoon had seen everything. The shattered chairs. The broken glass. Jungkook’s unconscious body. And him. His trembling hands, his golden glowing eyes—the very thing he had spent centuries hiding. Seokjin felt sick. "N-namjoon—" His voice cracked as he took an instinctive step forward.But Namjoon stiffened. His body tensed, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might snap.And then, in a voice that made Seokjin’s blood run cold— "Don't come near me." Seokjin froze. It wasn’t just Namjoon’s words. It was his tone. It was the way he looked at him—like he was something unrecognizable.Like he was something to fear. Something Namjoon didn’t know. A deep, twisting pain coiled in Seokjin’s chest. No. Not him. Not Namjoon. But Namjoon was already pushing past him, his attention focused only on Jungkook.Seokjin could only watch as Namjoon fell to his knees, hands trembling as he gently lifted Jungkook’s body. Jungkook’s face was a mess. His lip was busted, blood smeared down his chin. A deep gash cut through his forehead, fresh blood trailing down the side of his face. His chest barely moved. His breathing was shallow. Namjoon let out a sharp breath, his fingers ghosting over Jungkook’s wounds. "Shit," Namjoon muttered under his breath. His hands curled under Jungkook’s legs and back, lifting him bridal style. Seokjin took a shaky step forward. "Joon, please—" Namjoon’s head snapped up. And the look in his eyes— It burned. Fury. Disgust. Betrayal. Seokjin’s stomach dropped. "What the fuck did you do to him?" Namjoon hissed. His voice was low. Lethal. Seokjin’s mouth opened— But nothing came out. His hands—his cursed hands—were still shaking. He felt naked. Exposed. Namjoon didn’t wait for an answer. He turned away, his grip tightening around Jungkook’s unconscious body.And then, without even looking at Seokjin— "Don’t follow me." Seokjin flinched. "Stay the fuck away, Seokjin." And then he was gone. Seokjin stood there, staring at the empty doorway, his breath shaking.And then it hit him. Namjoon had left him. His Namjoon. The one person who had always looked at him with warmth. With adoration.Now, all Seokjin saw was fear. A broken sound tore from his throat. His vision blurred, the weight of his own actions suffocating him. He had exposed himself. The one thing he had kept hidden. The one thing he had feared Namjoon ever finding out.And now— Now Namjoon was disgusted. A sob ripped through Seokjin’s chest. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.But nothing stopped the pain. Nothing stopped the deep, aching loneliness that clawed at his ribs. Namjoon had left him. And Seokjin… Seokjin was alone.
It is the time..
With a shaky breath, he closed his eyes. And in the blink of an eye—he was gone. Teleported. Straight to Taehyung.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The cold air inside the prison cell smelled of damp stone and rotting straw. Torches flickered against the moss-covered walls, casting shadows that danced like ghosts. The chains rattled as Queen Kim Tae-ri raised her head, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the golden glow of the light. And there, standing beyond the iron bars, was her husband—the man she had once sworn her life to—King Kim Seokjin. His royal robes billowed slightly as he stood unmoving, hands clasped behind his back. His eyes, once filled with warmth, now bore the weight of betrayal. A silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Then, in a voice colder than the night air, he spoke. "Who is the man?" Tae-ri’s lips trembled. She clutched the fabric of her tattered gown, her fingers digging into the thin silk. "I—I cannot tell you." Seokjin let out a sharp, bitter laugh. He shook his head, the disbelief in his eyes shifting into something darker. "Cannot?" he repeated. "You are that much of protective over him? Even in when your life is at danger?" Tae-ri’s body shook as she cried. "Please, Seokjin, I beg of you—" "Do not dare to say my name!" Seokjin’s voice boomed through the dungeon, echoing against the stone walls like a wrathful god passing judgment. His fists clenched at his sides. "You have no right to utter it!" Tae-ri gasped, her sobs coming harder. The weight of his anger, his hatred, pressed against her like a heavy chain she could not break free from. “Since when… do you know him..?” Seokjin took a deep breath, trying—failing—to steady himself. His voice dropped to a whisper, raw and vulnerable. “Since m-my Childhood…” She whispered. “Fucking hell Tae-ri…You had an affair while you marry to me?” “N-nooo your Majesty I would..” "Did you… do you love him?" Tae-ri choked on her breath. She shook her head furiously. "Please, Your Majesty—" "Stop with your fucking drama and answer me!" Seokjin roared, his patience snapping. His eyes, rimmed with sleeplessness, bore into her like a blade. Tae-ri’s lips parted, her face streaked with anguish. She inhaled shakily. "Y-yes." The word was barely above a whisper. And just like that—everything ended. Seokjin’s entire world collapsed in a single moment. He had come here tonight for the truth, clinging to the foolish hope that the woman he had cherished had been falsely accused. He had wanted to believe in her innocence. But now… Now, there was nothing left. His expression emptied, his heart hardening like stone. He had never been a king who ruled with cruelty, but in this moment, he felt nothing but the cold, merciless steel of his authority. With an eerie calmness, he straightened his posture and turned away from her. "Kim Tae-ri," he announced, voice devoid of all emotion. "For your crime of high treason against the Crown, I, King Kim Seokjin, hereby decree your execution at first light." The words cut through the cell like a blade, final and absolute. "You shall be beheaded at palace square for all of the kingdom to witness." Tae-ri’s eyes widened in sheer horror. "No—NO! Your Majesty! Please, listen to me!" She lunged forward, grabbing the iron bars, her fingers slipping from the moisture of her tears."I never betrayed you!" she cried, her voice raw, desperate. "The baby—the child inside me is yours!" Seokjin halted. His hands curled into fists. He wanted—needed—to believe her. But the pain was far too great, the wound too deep. A woman’s tears are the sharpest weapons. He turned his head slightly, just enough for her to see the emptiness in his gaze."If you had truly respected me," he whispered, "you would not have let it come to this." Tae-ri sobbed harder, her knees buckling beneath her. "Please, my king—please! The baby is yours! I swear on my life, I have never lain with another man! You are the only one I have ever loved!" Seokjin's heart clenched, but he refused to let his emotions rule him. Love had turned to betrayal. Devotion had turned to ruin. Without another word, he walked away, his steps slow, calculated. The sound of his boots echoed in the stone corridor, fading as he left the woman who once held his heart behind."Seokjin!" Tae-ri screamed his name, her voice breaking, but he did not turn back. ***************************************************************
“Good Night, Angel.”
Namjoon ended the phone call and set his phone aside, he felt the faintest pang of guilt. It seems like it is hard to not to see that gorgeous face. Namjoon sighs and started the engine, the gentle hum of the car filling the silence of the university parking lot. The sun was fading beyond the horizon, casting the sky in soft hues of orange and deep blue. As he slowly pulled out onto the road. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, his fingers gripped the steering wheel, but his mind was elsewhere. On Seokjin. It was impossible to push away the lingering thoughts—the coldness of Seokjin’s skin against his own, the softness of his lips when they kissed, the way he sighed into his mouth when Namjoon pulled him close. It was overwhelming, this thing between them. To be honest, Namjoon had never considered himself the jealous type. He had always believed love was about trust, about giving and receiving in equal measure. But with Seokjin… something had shifted inside him, something deep and territorial. When he found out about what Seokjin and Jungkook were, a storm of jealousy had coiled in his gut, tight and suffocating. It didn’t matter that it had been in the past. The mere thought of someone else touching Jin—kissing Jin—before he had the chance to claim him made something dark stir inside him. Last night, when he had avoided Jin’s gaze, when he had been quieter than usual, Jin had sighed and reached for his hand, fingers threading through his with an ease that still took Namjoon’s breath away.
"There is no one else except you."
That reassurance alone had unraveled the tight knot in Namjoon’s chest, soothing the jealousy burning through his veins. Namjoon tightened his grip on the wheel, exhaling through his nose as the memory sent a rush of warmth through him. His heart pounded a little faster. Seokjin was his. The realization was both thrilling and terrifying. It had happened so fast. One moment, Seokjin had been this enigmatic presence in his life—untouchable, infuriatingly beautiful, and always just a little out of reach. And now…Now, Seokjin is his boyfriend. Namjoon wasn’t sure when exactly it had happened. When the casual glances had turned into something heavier, when the teasing had melted into something warmer. But now, the first time he realized just how far gone he was. He reminded himself that Jin had chosen him. It made Namjoon so damn happy that someone as gorgeous, as perfect as Kim Seokjin was his boyfriend. He still wasn’t sure what this thing between them was—this intense pull, this need to be with Jin, to touch him, to claim him in a way that no one else ever had. He wasn’t sure how to put a name to it yet. But whatever it was… it was real. Few nights ago, the two of them sprawled on Seokjin’s couch, a forgotten movie playing in the background. Seokjin had been drowsy, his head resting on Namjoon’s shoulder, his breath slow and steady. Namjoon had barely been paying attention to the film—his focus had been entirely on the man beside him. He had watched the way Seokjin’s lips parted slightly as he drifted off to sleep, the soft rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers twitched slightly against Namjoon’s arm. It had hit him then, like a wave crashing over him, stealing the air from his lungs. He wanted this. Not just for a moment. Not just as a fleeting affair. He wanted Seokjin—all of him. And God, he wanted Seokjin to want him back. Namjoon exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he switched lanes. Even now, with the distant city lights flickering ahead of him, his thoughts kept circling back to the same thing. Just few minutes ago, when he had told Seokjin he wasn’t coming over, Namjoon knew that Jin is pouting even though he had tried to play it cool. The image of Seokjin’s glossy lips, soft and plump, curled into a pout, refused to leave Namjoon’s mind. It had taken every ounce of his willpower not to turn the car around, not to rush back to him, not to pull him in right then and there, to kiss that pout away, to press Seokjin against the doorframe and devour him. Namjoon exhaled through his nose, shaking his head with a small smile. Even now, with his headache nagging at him, he couldn’t stop thinking about Seokjin’s rose petal lips. Namjoon chuckled under his breath. God, he really liked him. Too much. The thought sent a shiver down Namjoon's spine, equal parts thrilling and terrifying.Did Seokjin feel the same? Was he just as consumed by this—whatever this was—between them? Or was Namjoon the only one losing himself in the depth of it? Seokjin had told him he was exclusive to him, but did that mean he felt the same intensity? The same possessiveness that clawed at Namjoon’s chest whenever he thought of someone else having been close to Jin? A part of him wanted to believe it—wanted to trust that Jin’s feelings ran just as deep.But another part of him, the one riddled with doubt, whispered: What if you're the only one falling? As Namjoon pulled into his apartment complex, he sighed and rubbed at his temples, trying to ease the dull ache between his brows. He parked the car, grabbed his keys, and stepped out, stretching his tense shoulders before making his way up the stairs. The apartment door clicked open with ease, and Namjoon walked in, expecting silence. But what he found instead— Was Taehyung. Crying. Namjoon froze. The younger man sat on the couch, his shoulders shaking, his hands gripping his own arms as if trying to hold himself together. His face was partially hidden by his messy hair, but Namjoon could hear it— The choked, quiet sobs. "Tae?" Namjoon took slow, measured steps toward Taehyung, his heart tightening at the sight of his younger brother curled up on the couch, his shoulders trembling. "Taehyung," he called softly. Taehyung flinched, hastily wiping his tears and turning his face away. But Namjoon wasn’t having it. He knelt in front of Taehyung and gently cupped his tear-streaked face, forcing him to look at him. Namjoon’s brows knitted together in concern, his voice low but firm. "Who hurt you?" His voice carried the weight of a promise—one that had been unspoken since the day their parents passed. Since then, Namjoon had made sure that no one ever gave Taehyung a reason to cry. He had spoiled him, protected him, showered him with love.And now, someone had dared to break his little brother’s heart? Even Namjoon had never done that. "Tell me, Tae," Namjoon whispered, brushing his thumbs over Taehyung’s damp cheeks. "I swear to God, whoever it is… they'll have to face my wrath." Taehyung’s lips wobbled, and suddenly, he threw himself into Namjoon's arms."H-Hyung, please..." he sobbed, clutching onto Namjoon's shirt like he was afraid of falling apart. Namjoon held him close, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other soothingly rubbing his back. "Tell me, baby. What happened?" Taehyung hiccupped between his sobs. "H-Hyung... Jungkook..." Namjoon stiffened. His grip on Taehyung tightened."What about Jungkook?" Taehyung pulled back slightly, his face crumpling with fresh tears. "He—he told me, Hyung. He never liked me." Namjoon's jaw clenched. "What?" Namjoon’s breath caught. The words didn’t make sense.His grip on Taehyung’s shoulders tightened. "What are you talking about, Tae?" Taehyung swallowed hard, his entire body trembling. "It was all an act," he choked out, voice barely above a whisper. "He only did it because... because he wanted to make Seokjin hyung jealous." Namjoon’s eyes widened. His mind reeled. No. "He never liked me," Taehyung continued, his voice shaking. "All this time… he was in love with Jin hyung." Namjoon felt something snap. His hands dropped from Taehyung’s shoulders, curling into tight fists. "What?" His heart pounded against his ribs. Jungkook—had used Taehyung. Played him. Hurt him. All for what? To make Seokjin jealous? Namjoon’s blood ran cold, then boiled. His breath came out in ragged bursts, his pulse roaring in his ears. His vision blurred with red as pure, unfiltered rage coursed through his veins. Taehyung barely had time to react before Namjoon shot up from the couch. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch." "Hyung, no!" Taehyung gasped, scrambling up and grabbing Namjoon’s hand before he could storm out. "What are you doing, Tae?" Namjoon's voice was laced with frustration, his fists clenching at his sides. His entire body was tense, every muscle straining with barely contained rage. "Are you telling me to just stand here and do nothing? To wait and watch while the bastard who hurt my little brother walks free?" He took a step forward, his towering presence looming over Taehyung, who flinched at the intensity in his eyes. "No, Taehyung. I won’t do that." His voice was firm, unwavering. "After our parents passed away, I swore on their souls that I would protect you. That I would never let you get hurt." His breath came out ragged. "And now you’re asking me to let this go?" But Taehyung shook his head. "No, Hyung... I’m not worried about myself anymore."Namjoon’s brows furrowed. "Then what is it?" Taehyung inhaled shakily, his lips parting, but no words came out at first. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his shoulders trembling. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he whispered, "Please forgive me, Hyung." Namjoon’s stomach twisted. "What are you talking about, Taehyung?" His voice softened, concern replacing his earlier anger. Taehyung swallowed hard, eyes brimming with tears. "Hyung... please, forgive me for what I’m about to say. I—I think I finally understand now. I understand how heartbreak feels." His voice wavered. "And I think… I think this is karma. This is happening to me because of what I did. Because I kept a secret from you." Namjoon’s heart stopped. "What secret?" His voice was barely above a whisper. Taehyung clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes tightly as if trying to brace himself. "Because the only person who truly loved me is you, Hyung. And yet... I betrayed you." His breath hitched. "I kept something from you. And now, everything is coming back to me like karma." Namjoon took a slow step back, his pulse quickening. "Tae…" His voice was uncertain now, laced with something dangerously close to fear. "What are you saying?" Taehyung lifted his gaze, his expression tormented. He sucked in a shaky breath, his voice cracking. "Hyung... Seokjin hyung is not human." Namjoon’s entire body went rigid. A silence so thick filled the room that even the air felt suffocating. His heart pounded against his ribs, his mind refusing to process the words. "...What?" Taehyung wiped at his tears with the back of his sleeve, his lips trembling as he forced himself to speak again. "He’s a phantom, Hyung." Namjoon’s breath caught. His vision blurred for a moment as his mind tried to reject the absurdity of Taehyung’s words.
A phantom?
Seokjin?
His Seokjin?
How did he missed it?
"H-how do you k-know?" His voice came out hoarse, barely recognizable. Taehyung exhaled shakily. "I’m s-sorry, Hyung. I..I knew all a-along." His voice cracked with guilt. "I w-watched you fall f-for him, and I s-said nothing. I k-kept it a s-secret even when I saw how d-deep you were falling." Namjoon felt his breath come in short, uneven bursts. He shook his head, his mind screaming at him to deny it. To reject it. That Seokjin had lied to him. But the signs had always been there. The things that never quite made sense. The way Seokjin spoke. The way he felt like he belonged to another time. The way his presence lingered, even when he wasn’t there.And now—now this. Namjoon could barely hear Taehyung’s next words through the deafening pounding in his ears. "S-seokjin hyung promised me... he promised h-he would tell y-you soon." Taehyung’s voice was barely a whisper now, filled with remorse. "But I still should h-have told you. And now I u-understand... everything that’s h-happening to me is because I hid it from you." His body shook with silent sobs as he reached for Namjoon, wrapping his arms around him. "I’m so sorry, Hyung," Taehyung whispered against his chest. "Please... forgive me." Namjoon stood there, frozen, his hands hovering mid-air as if he couldn’t decide whether to embrace his brother or push him away. And then— "Hyung…" Taehyung’s final words came out in a whisper, barely audible. "He died-" "Shhh." Namjoon cut him off immediately, his body going rigid. His arms finally moved, gripping Taehyung’s shoulders as he pushed him back slightly, his gaze hard. "I need to talk to him." His voice was eerily calm. "Hyung—" Taehyung reached for him again, but Namjoon was already pulling away.Without another word, without sparing even a glance back, Namjoon turned on his heel and walked out of the apartment. "Hyung!" Taehyung called after him, his voice laced with desperation.Namjoon didn’t stop. Didn’t turn back. Didn’t hesitate. There was only one thing on his mind now. Seokjin. ****************************************************************** Taehyung sat on the floor of his apartment, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees as sobs wracked his body. His phone lay beside him, the screen glowing faintly with unanswered calls. Namjoon wasn’t picking up. He bit his lip, his heart sinking deeper into despair. He had hurt Namjoon hyung. Betrayed his trust. And now, he didn’t even know where his hyung was.
"Please, Hyung… pick up."
The call rang and rang until it went to voicemail again. With a strangled cry, he threw his phone across the room. It hit the wall with a dull thud and slid to the floor, the screen cracking. "Hyung…" he whispered through his tears. Suddenly, the air shifted. A chilling woosh sound cut through the silence like a gust of wind rushing through a narrow corridor. And then—he appeared. Like a splash of ink dissolving into water, Seokjin materialized before him, his body shimmering for a brief second before settling into reality. His ethereal presence sent shivers down Taehyung’s spine, and his breath hitched as he scrambled to his feet.Fury replaced his sorrow in an instant. He was watching Taehyung with a gaze so broken it made his stomach turn. The sorrow in his eyes, the unmistakable guilt—Taehyung hated it. Something inside him snapped. "What the fuck are you doing here?!" he roared, scrambling to his feet, his fists clenched so tight his nails nearly broke skin. His bloodshot eyes burned with fury. "And where is my hyung?!" Seokjin flinched, as if the words themselves had struck him. His lips trembled, his body visibly shaking. "I’m sorry, Taehyung," Seokjin whispered, his voice weak—exhausted. "Everything fell apart." His hands, shaking, wiped at his tear-streaked face. "I—I hurt Jungkook." Taehyung froze. Jungkook. His stomach twisted violently. The man he had loved. The man who had toyed with his feelings. And yet, his heart still ached at the mere mention of him. His jaw tightened, fury rising like a tidal wave. "What did you do to Jungkook?" he hissed. Seokjin shut his eyes, as if the memory itself was a wound too deep to revisit. "He… tried to kiss me," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I had to use my power on him. He fell… and got hurt." A silence, thick and suffocating, settled between them. Then— "W-what?!" Taehyung’s voice cracked, his entire body stiffening. A sharp pang of sickness rolled in his stomach. Jungkook… kissed Seokjin? The same day he had confessed to him? Taehyung felt a white-hot wave of jealousy and anger tear through him, his vision blurring with fury. "You fucking asshole, Seokjin!" Taehyung screamed, shoving him hard. "You ruined everything! EVERYTHING! Do you even realize that you are the reason he played with me in the first place?! He has never liked me..It was all a show for you..And now—" His voice broke into a choked sob, his entire frame trembling. Seokjin stumbled back, his own eyes glistening. "I didn’t want it, Taehyung!" His voice was desperate, pleading. "I never wanted any of this!" Taehyung inhaled sharply, his entire body burning. "Oh, really?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "If Jungkook got hurt, then why the fuck are you here? Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?! Ohh—wait," he let out a hollow laugh, "I forgot. You can’t. You’re not human, after all." Seokjin winced, pain flashing in his eyes. "Or are you here just to rub it in my face?" Taehyung’s voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "To remind me that no matter what I do, Jungkook still wants you?" "Taehyung, stop—" "NO! FUCK YOU, SEOKJIN!" Taehyung’s voice cracked, his fists trembling. "I trusted you! I told you how I felt! And yet, somehow, it’s still all about you! You, you, you! It has been always about fucking you!" Seokjin looked like he had been punched. His lips parted, but no words came out.Taehyung let out a breathless, bitter laugh. "And my hyung? What the fuck did you do to him?" Seokjin shook his head furiously. "I—I didn’t do anything to Namjoon!" He choked, clutching his own chest. "I don’t know how, but—he appeared in front of me. One moment, he said he was going home. The next… he was there." Taehyung’s blood ran cold. Seokjin’s lips trembled. "He looked at me like I was a monster, Taehyung."A bitter smile flickered across his lips. "Then he took Jungkook to the hospital. And he didn’t let me come." Silence. Taehyung stared at him, his heart pounding. Slowly, he took a deep breath. "You know what, Seokjin?" he whispered, voice raw. "I told Namjoon hyung the truth." Seokjin’s swollen eyes lifted to meet his. "And guess what?" Taehyung let out a hollow chuckle. "He didn’t care what I said. He still wanted to hear it from you. He still wanted to believe in you." Seokjin’s body trembled violently. Taehyung took a step forward, his voice deadly quiet. "That’s why he went there." A single tear slipped down Seokjin’s cheek. "I don’t blame you, Taehyung," Seokjin whispered, his voice shaking. His shoulders slumped. "I was wrong." His breath shuddered. "I am at fault for hiding it from him...I was so wrong…" "Yes, Hyung," Taehyung whispered, voice raw with emotion. "You hurt everyone around you. You should have left us all alone!”" Seokjin let out a shuddering breath, his entire body trembling. "I know, Tae." His voice was laced with exhaustion. Defeat. He looked up at him, eyes pleading. "Please… end my miserable life." Taehyung’s breath hitched. He should want that. After everything Seokjin had done—after all the lies, all the pain—he should want to end it.And yet… "I really want to do that," Taehyung admitted, his voice shaking. "But I’m afraid." He clenched his fists. "Do you know how my hyung will take that news?" His lips trembled as he spoke the words that weighed heavy on his chest.“Do you even fucking realize how much he loves you?!” His voice cracked, thick with raw emotion. “Even that idiot of my hyung doesn’t know it himself, but I SEE IT! I see it every fucking day in his eyes, hyung!” Seokjin gave a hollow laugh, tears sliding down his cheeks. "It doesn’t matter, Tae." Taehyung’s eyes widened. "What—" "I saw it in his eyes," Seokjin whispered, his voice breaking. "When he saw me for what I truly am… his gaze changed." His lips quivered. "He went from shocked to disgusted."A painful sob escaped his throat. "He will never forgive me." He hugged himself as if trying to hold himself together. "And I don’t want to live in a world where I can’t have him." His broken gaze met Taehyung’s. "Because I love him that much." His breath trembled. "And I am nothing without him." A ghostly whisper left his lips. "I’ll give him the peace he deserves, Tae." "Please.. Release me from this hell." Taehyung’s hands shook. "H-how can I do that?" He looked around in panic. "I don’t even see the sword." Seokjin’s lips curled into a bittersweet smile. "For that," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "We have to go back to the beginning." Taehyung felt his breath stop."The beginning…?" he repeated, voice hollow. Seokjin nodded slowly. "The place where you killed me." Taehyung felt a chill crawl down his spine. “The Royal Garden.” ************************************************************************ Jimin stormed into Yoongi’s office, the heavy wooden doors slamming shut behind him with a resounding thud. The demon barely had time to look up from his desk before an unmistakable wave of anger filled the room, carried by the presence of the younger man now standing before him with fire in his eyes. Yoongi sighed, leaning back in his chair as he rubbed his temple. He knew this was coming. Knew he couldn’t avoid Jimin forever. And yet, he had tried.Foolish. “What are you doing here?” Yoongi asked, feigning disinterest as if his heart wasn’t already sinking at the sight of Jimin’s glare. Jimin scoffed. “I wouldn’t be here if you had answered my calls.” Yoongi’s fingers twitched against the armrest. He had expected frustration—anger, even—but the underlying hurt in Jimin’s voice made something inside him waver. He swallowed, knowing exactly why he had ignored those calls. Ever since the God of Fate had paid him an unexpected visit, he had been on edge. It was like a warning for him too, carrying the weight of something dangerous. Yoongi was scared of Hoseok finding about Jimin. Maybe, if he distanced himself from Jimin—just for a little while—he could untangle the threads of fate before they tightened around his throat. But he should have known better. Jimin always knew where to find him. And now, here he was, standing before Yoongi with crossed arms and narrowed eyes, looking every bit like a divine storm about to unleash itself upon him. Then, with an arched brow and a mocking lilt in his voice, Jimin spoke again.“Ring the bell, hyung.” Yoongi frowned. “What?” Jimin smirked, but there was no humor in it. “I thought only humans did that.” “Did what?” Yoongi asked warily. Jimin tilted his head. “Ignoring their loved ones. Betraying them. Cheating.” Yoongi stiffened. “What?”“What are you accusing me of, Jimin?” Jimin took a step forward, his eyes glinting with something sharp, something dangerous. His voice was laced with mockery, but beneath it, Yoongi could hear the unspoken truth—pain. “Oh?” Jimin laughed humorlessly. “Seems like you’re too old to even remember what happened yesterday.” Yoongi’s jaw clenched. He didn’t like where this was going. Jimin took another step forward, his movements slow, deliberate, almost taunting.“I was so sad when you didn’t answer my calls,” Jimin continued, his voice dripping with exaggerated sorrow. “So, being the wonderful boyfriend that I am, I decided to go buy your favorite mochi.” Yoongi felt something cold crawl up his spine. “And guess who I ran into at the café?” Jimin asked, his voice almost sweet. Yoongi didn’t answer. Jimin’s eyes darkened. “Hoseok-hyung.” The name alone was enough to send warning bells ringing in Yoongi’s head. “I told him I was worried about you,” Jimin went on, his voice quieter now, dangerously calm. “And you know what he said?” Yoongi remained silent, though his fingers tightened on the desk. Jimin’s lips curled into a sneer. “He said he met you yesterday. And that you were just fine.” Yoongi winced. Jimin gritted his teeth, eyes burning with betrayal. “So while I was worried sick about you, you were out having a nice little chat? Fuck those mochis—I came here directly.” Yoongi barely had time to process the next words before Jimin’s voice rose, filled with fury.“How dare you cheat on me, Min Yoongi?!” The room shook. For a moment, Yoongi wondered if it was his power reacting to Jimin’s anger, or if the sheer force of Jimin’s emotions had caused reality itself to tremble. Yoongi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jimin, I—” “And I’m surprised to find out that it’s not just me who can come here,” Jimin cut him off, eyes gleaming. “Apparently, every human can.” “Hoseok is not a human,” Yoongi said without thinking. “Oh?” he mused. “Look at you, spitting out more lies just to make yourself sound right.”Yoongi exhaled. This was getting worse. Jimin was misunderstanding everything, but could he blame him? He had ignored Jimin. Had given him reasons to doubt. And Jimin wasn’t the type to let anything slide. Yoongi made a split-second decision. Before Jimin could utter another word, Yoongi surged forward, grabbing Jimin by the waist and pulling him in. Jimin gasped, but Yoongi didn’t give him time to react before he captured his lips in a kiss. It wasn’t soft.It wasn’t gentle.It was desperate, raw, claiming. Yoongi kissed him breathless, pouring every unsaid word into the press of their mouths.Jimin’s fists tightened in his shirt, as if he wanted to push him away—but he didn’t. He stayed. He kissed back, his anger bleeding into something else, something just as fierce.When Yoongi finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against Jimin’s, breathing heavily.“I have never cheated on you, pabo.” His voice was low, steady, honest. “And Hoseok—he’s not just anyone. He’s the God of Fate.” Jimin’s breath hitched. For the first time since he entered the room, he paused, his brows furrowing in confusion.Yoongi’s grip on his waist tightened. “You can hate me all you want for ignoring you, but don’t doubt what I have for you.” Jimin stared at him, his breaths still uneven. The fire in his eyes had not disappeared, but something else flickered there now—hesitation. Finally, his lips parted, his voice barely above a whisper.“The God of Fate?” Yoongi nodded, brushing a thumb over Jimin’s jaw. “Yeah. I was afraid he founding about you..But seems like I can’t do that..” Jimin was silent. Then, in the next breath, he exhaled and punched Yoongi in the chest. “You idiot.” Yoongi coughed. “Ow—what the hell?” Jimin glared at him. “You should’ve told me instead of making me think you were cheating!” Yoongi huffed, rubbing his chest. “I didn’t want to worry you—” “Too late.” Jimin scowled. “You already worried me, so much.” Yoongi’s expression softened. “…I’m sorry.” Jimin sighed. Then, without warning, he hugged him—arms wrapping tight around Yoongi’s waist. Yoongi hesitated for only a second before pulling him closer. “Don’t ignore me again,” Jimin muttered against his chest. Yoongi exhaled, pressing a kiss to Jimin’s hair. “Never.” After a moment of silence, Jimin whispered, “Hyung…” Yoongi hummed in response, his fingers idly tracing small circles on Jimin’s back. Jimin pulled back slightly, tilting his head to look up at him. His voice was quieter now, cautious. “Why was he here? Are you in trouble…?” Yoongi exhaled, his gaze drifting away as if the weight of something unseen pressed upon his shoulders. “No, Jiminnie… I’m not in trouble…” He hesitated before continuing, his voice dropping lower. “But I think Seokjin is going to face a big test ahead of him.” Jimin frowned. Before he could ask further, Yoongi’s grip on him tightened just slightly, his tone shifting into something more deliberate. “Can you do a small thing for me..?” Jimin’s brows knitted together. “What is it, hyung?” Yoongi looked at him then, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. “Tonight, bring Namjoon to me.” Jimin’s lips parted slightly, surprise flashing across his face. “Why?” Yoongi’s gaze didn’t waver. “I believe there is something he should witness.” Jimin wanted to question more, but something in Yoongi’s voice silenced him. The demon wasn’t one to ask for help lightly, and when he did, it meant the situation was far from ordinary. “Alright. I’ll make sure he’s here.” Yoongi offered him a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Thank you, Jiminnie.” Jimin only smiled, brushing his lips against Yoongi’s once more, sealing whatever unspoken promise lingered between them.