Nshsk

The morning light in Seoul was always a pale, filtered blue when it hit the floor-to-ceiling windows of Jungkook’s apartment. It was the kind of light that made everything look soft, even the sharp edges of the designer furniture and the heavy, dark weights scattered in the corner of the room.

Jungkook was already awake. He had been for an hour. His large frame was hunched over the kitchen stove, the sleeves of his black sweatshirt pushed up to reveal the intricate, dark ink that climbed up his forearms and disappeared under his collar. His muscles shifted under his skin as he flipped an omelet with practiced precision.

He didn't need to check the time to know Taehyung would be waking up soon. His internal clock was tuned to the younger man’s heartbeat.

A soft, shuffling sound came from the hallway. Taehyung appeared, looking small in one of Jungkook’s oversized hoodies that swallowed his lean frame. His hair was a chaotic mess of dark curls, and his eyes were still half-closed, heavy with sleep.

"Kookie," Taehyung murmured, his voice a deep, gravelly honey.

Jungkook didn't look up immediately, but the corner of his mouth twitched—the only sign of the softness he allowed himself. "Sit down, Tae. Don't trip over your own feet."

Taehyung obeyed, sliding onto the barstool. He reached out to grab a glass of water, but Jungkook’s hand was already there, pushing a freshly brewed iced americano toward him.

"I can get it myself," Taehyung whispered, though he immediately took a grateful sip of the bitter coffee.

"You're barely conscious," Jungkook grunted, finally turning around. He set a plate of perfectly seasoned eggs and toast in front of Taehyung. "Eat. You have a long rehearsal today."

As Taehyung picked up his fork, Jungkook reached out. His hand, large and calloused from the gym and the heavy lifting he did at the office, looked massive against Taehyung’s pale skin. With a tenderness that contradicted his tough exterior, he tucked a stray curl behind Taehyung’s ear, his thumb lingering for a second against the shell of Taehyung’s ear.

"I have a meeting at ten," Jungkook said, his voice dropping an octave. "I’ll drop you at the studio on my way."

"You don't have to. It's in the opposite direction," Taehyung said, his cheeks flushing pink. This was his first relationship, and even after months, the intensity of Jungkook’s care still made his heart do frantic little flips.

Jungkook ignored him, already moving to the sink to wash the pans he’d used. "I'm dropping you off. And I'm picking you up. Text me when you're thirty minutes from finishing."

Buying groceries was supposed to be a simple task, but with Jungkook, it was a tactical operation.

They stood in the aisle of the high-end supermarket near Jungkook’s office. Taehyung reached for a bag of rice, but before his fingers could even touch the plastic, Jungkook’s hand was there, snatching it up.

"Too heavy," Jungkook muttered, tossing it into the cart as if it weighed nothing.

"It’s two kilograms, Jungkookie. I’m a dancer, not a porcelain doll," Taehyung pouted, though there was no real heat in it.

Jungkook paused, turning his body to fully face Taehyung. He loomed over the younger man, his broad shoulders blocking out the light from the overhead lamps. He looked every bit the intimidating executive he was known as—the man who ran his department with an iron fist and never smiled in board meetings. But his eyes, dark and intense, softened as they swept over Taehyung’s face.

"I know what you are," Jungkook said quietly. He reached out, his hand engulfing Taehyung’s smaller one. He didn't even seem to realize he was doing it, his fingers interlacing with Taehyung’s instinctively. "But as long as I’m here, you don't carry anything. Understood?"

Taehyung felt that familiar warmth spread from his chest to his toes. He nodded shyly, looking down at their joined hands. "Okay."

At the checkout, Jungkook didn't even let Taehyung reach for his wallet. He swiped his black card before the cashier could even finish announcing the total. When the bags were packed, Jungkook slung three of them over each arm, leaving Taehyung with nothing but his own small designer tote.

"I can take at least one," Taehyung insisted, reaching for a bag filled with snacks.

Jungkook shifted his weight, blocking Taehyung’s path with his chest. "Walk to the car, Tae. Don't make me say it again."

Taehyung huffed, but a small, secret smile played on his lips. He loved being babied, even if he felt he should protest. Growing up, he’d always been the one trying to fit in, to be strong, to be the perfect model and dancer. With Jungkook, he could just be. He could be small. He could be cherished.

The weekend brought a trip with their group of friends. Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok were already at the campsite, waving as Jungkook’s heavy SUV pulled up the dirt path.

As soon as the engine cut, Taehyung started to open his door, but Jungkook’s voice stopped him. "Wait."

Jungkook got out, walked around the car, and opened the door for him. He then went to the trunk. While the other guys were busy arguing over how to set up the tents, Jungkook was a whirlwind of efficiency. He hauled out the heavy coolers, the tent poles, and the oversized bags of gear.

Taehyung tried to grab his own sleeping bag. Jungkook snatched it out of his hand without looking at him.

"Go sit by the fire pit with Jimin," Jungkook ordered, his voice gruff. "The ground is uneven here. I don't want you tripping."

"Jungkook, let him help a little," Jimin teased, walking over with a smirk. "He’s got muscles too, you know."

Jungkook didn't even look up from the tent he was staking into the dirt. "He doesn't need to use them here. I've got it."

Taehyung sat on a folding chair, watching Jungkook work. The way the muscles in Jungkook’s back rippled through his thin shirt as he hammered stakes into the ground was mesmerizing. He was so rugged, so seemingly untouchable, yet he spent every ounce of his energy ensuring Taehyung didn't have to lift a finger.

Later that night, as the fire crackled and the stars began to poke through the canopy of trees, the group sat around sharing stories. Taehyung was shivering slightly; the mountain air was thinner and colder than he’d expected.

He didn't have to say a word. Jungkook, who had been listening to Yoongi talk about a new music production, immediately stood up. He went into the tent and emerged with a thick, fleece-lined jacket.

"Stand up," Jungkook said.

Taehyung stood, and Jungkook draped the jacket over his shoulders, zipping it up to his chin. He then sat back down and pulled Taehyung into his lap.

It was a bold move in front of their friends, but Jungkook didn't care about anyone else's opinion. He wrapped his massive arms around Taehyung’s waist, pulling him flush against his chest. Taehyung was so light compared to him, fitting perfectly into the space Jungkook provided.

"Better?" Jungkook whispered into his ear, his breath warm against Taehyung’s skin.

Taehyung nodded, his heart hammering. He turned his head slightly, leaning in to press a tiny, shy peck to Jungkook’s jawline.

Jungkook’s reaction was instantaneous. He shifted, catching Taehyung’s lips with his own in a firm, lingering kiss. It wasn't just a peck; it was a claim.

Taehyung’s eyes fluttered shut, and he instinctively curled into himself, his shoulders hunching up as he turned a bright, vivid shade of red. He hid his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck, embarrassed by the public affection but glowing with happiness.

Jungkook let out a low, rare chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest and into Taehyung’s body. He squeezed Taehyung tighter, his chin resting on the top of the younger man’s head.

"So shy," Jungkook murmured, his voice full of an endearment he never showed the rest of the world.

The following Tuesday, the weather turned. A cold, biting rain swept through Seoul, and by the time Taehyung finished his modeling shoot, he felt a scratchiness in the back of his throat.

By the time Jungkook picked him up, Taehyung was sneezing, his nose a faint shade of pink.

Jungkook didn't say a word. He just turned the seat heater on to the maximum setting and drove straight home.

The moment they walked through the door, Jungkook was in motion. He didn't go to his office to finish the reports he’d brought home. He didn't check his emails.

"Shower. Hot water," Jungkook commanded. "I'll bring you clothes."

Taehyung stumbled into the bathroom, feeling the ache in his bones. When he emerged, steam clinging to his skin, he found a pair of Jungkook’s thickest sweatpants and a soft t-shirt laid out on the bed.

He crawled under the covers, feeling miserable. A few minutes later, the door creaked open. Jungkook entered carrying a tray. On it was a bowl of steaming porridge and a cup of honey-lemon tea.

"Sit up," Jungkook said, his voice softer than usual.

"I can eat by myself, Gukkie," Taehyung rasped, his voice sounding thin.

Jungkook ignored the protest. He sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping significantly under his weight. He blew on a spoonful of porridge and held it to Taehyung’s lips.

"Open."

Taehyung looked into Jungkook’s eyes. There was no room for argument there, only a fierce, protective devotion. Taehyung opened his mouth and let Jungkook feed him, one spoonful at a time.

When the bowl was empty, Jungkook set it aside and reached for a small bottle of medicine. He poured the exact dosage and handed it to Taehyung, watching him swallow it.

"Sleep now," Jungkook said, pulling the duvet up to Taehyung’s chin.

"Are you going to work?" Taehyung asked, his eyes already drooping from the medicine.

Jungkook leaned down, pressing a long, lingering kiss to Taehyung’s forehead, checking his temperature with his lips. "No. I'm staying right here."

He moved to the other side of the bed, climbing in fully clothed, and pulled Taehyung’s back against his chest. He was like a human heater, his large body radiating warmth that seemed to seep into Taehyung’s very soul.

"You're going to get sick too," Taehyung whispered, though he was already drifting off.

"I don't get sick," Jungkook grunted, his arm draping over Taehyung’s waist, anchoring him. "And even if I did, it wouldn't matter. Just sleep, Tae."

Taehyung sighed, a small, contented sound. In his first relationship, he had expected excitement and romance, but he hadn't expected this—this total, unwavering safety. He hadn't expected a man who looked like a storm but acted like a harbor.

As he fell asleep, the last thing he felt was Jungkook’s hand gently stroking his hair, over and over, a silent promise that as long as he was there, Taehyung would never have to carry the weight of the world alone.