...

A/N : at last

…

The absolute worst part about having your heart broken into a million pieces was not the crying. It was the fact that the rest of the world completely refused to stop moving. You felt like the universe should at least have the decency to give you a gloomy thunderstorm or a dramatic power outage. But no. The sun outside your bedroom window was blindingly bright and your phone kept buzzing with annoying notifications.

Right on your kitchen counter sat two very expensive, completely non-refundable vacation tickets. They were supposed to be for a romantic road trip. Now, they were just tiny paper slips mocking your sudden single status.

You lay completely flat on your stomach, your face buried so deep into your pillow that you were pretty sure you were breathing in dust bunnies. You were wrapped in three different blankets, wearing a giant, faded t-shirt that had a stain from last week's takeout. Your eyes were raw and puffy from a solid twelve hours of weeping, and a highly depressing acoustic song was looping softly from your phone. You had fully committed to this bed. This was your life now. You were going to become one with the mattress.

Suddenly, a loud, violent metallic scrape echoed from the front door.

You didn't even blink. Only one person on the entire planet possessed your spare house key and the absolute lack of basic human manners to use it without texting first.

A few seconds later, your bedroom door didn't just open—it swung back so hard it hit the drywall with a dull thud. The immediate, comforting scent of clean laundry, mint gum, and sweet banana milk rushed into the dark, stuffy room.

"Jesus, sweets," a loud, entirely too cheerful voice boomed. "It looks like a vampire cave in here. Seriously, did something die under the bed?"

You didn't look up. Instead, you reached out blindly, grabbed the edge of your heavy comforter, and yanked it completely over your head until you were a dark, shapeless lump. "Go away, Jungkook. I am dead. Call the police."

"Can't do that. I don't look good in police station lighting," Jungkook said. You heard his heavy footsteps cross your hardwood floor. He didn't say anything sweet or sad. He didn't ask how your feelings were. Instead, a massive, crinkling plastic convenience store bag was dropped directly onto your lower back with a heavy thump. "I brought snacks. And more importantly, I brought myself. You can thank me now."

"I don't want snacks. I want to turn into a rock," your muffled voice grumbled from beneath the layers of fabric.

Jungkook let out a long, highly dramatic sigh. "A rock? Really? That's so uncreative."

Before you could even figure out what he was doing, you felt his large, strong hands grab the loose edges of your comforter. With one quick, incredibly smooth yank, he rolled you sideways across the bed. You let out a squeak as the blanket wrapped tighter and tighter around you, pinning your arms firmly to your sides. By the time he stopped pulling, you were rolled up like a massive, helpless cylinder.

"Jungkook! Let me out right now!" you yelled, wiggling your legs furiously, but you couldn't move an inch.

"Nope. You are officially a human burrito," he declared. He sat down heavily right on the edge of your mattress, looking down at you with a massive, goofy, bunny-toothed grin. He was wearing a giant, oversized bright yellow hoodie that made him look like a giant lemon, a black beanie pushed back on his dark hair, and baggy sweatpants. He looked completely cozy and entirely too full of chaotic energy. "And according to the rules of fast food, burritos are not allowed to stay in bed all day."

He casually reached into the plastic bag, pulled out a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips, and popped it open with a loud pop. He crunched on one right next to your ear, making as much noise as humanly possible.

"You need to eat. And you need to start throwing things into a bag," he said, talking around a chip.

"I’m not going on the trip, Jungkook," you whispered. The silly mood suddenly dipped, and that familiar, heavy ache pressed down on your chest again. Your throat felt tight. "The tickets were for... you know. I’m not going to drive across the country by myself like some pathetic loser in a movie. It’s supposed to be a couple's road trip."

Jungkook stopped chewing. His dark, round eyes softened for a fraction of a second, looking at you with total warmth. But he quickly blinked it away, replaced it with a look of pure, exaggerated offense, and let out a loud gasp.

"By yourself? A pathetic loser?" He slapped a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? Are you blind? Look at me. Look at these shoulders." He puffed his chest out dramatically. "I am the literal definition of the ultimate travel partner. I can drive for ten hours straight without getting sleepy. I can lift your heavy bags without complaining. And, most importantly, unlike your trash ex-boyfriend, I actually know how to wash my own hair without being reminded."

A tiny, involuntary laugh snorted out of your nose before you could stop it. "Jungkook, be serious for once."

"I am being 100% serious!" He grabbed his phone from his pocket, flipping it around to show you a photo of his large black duffel bag sitting by his front door. "I’ve been completely packed since you called me crying at two in the morning. I even packed my good cologne. We are absolutely not letting that absolute clown ruin your summer vacation. Honestly, the guy dressed like a wet cardboard box anyway. You basically downgraded your stress level by losing him."

"He did not dress like cardboard," you mumbled, though a small part of your brain completely agreed.

"Sweets, he literally wore white socks with leather sandals to a nice seafood restaurant. We’ve discussed this. It was a crime against humanity," Jungkook joked, rolling his eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck.

He stood up, stretched his arms above his head, and walked straight over to your closet. He dragged your large, dusty suitcase out from the corner, threw it onto the floor, and opened it with a long, aggressive zipppp. Without asking for permission, he grabbed a handful of random t-shirts from your hangers and tossed them into the empty bag.

"Hey! Stop! What are you doing? Don't just throw things in there!" you shrieked, trying to break your arms free from the blanket trap.

"Then get your lazy self out of the burrito and do it properly," he countered, flashing a cheeky, challenging smile. He reached deep into your drawer and held up a bright, neon green t-shirt that you hadn't touched since a middle school spirit day. "Are we taking this? It looks like a giant highlighter. Perfect for when you get lost in the woods and I have to hunt you down."

"Give me that, you idiot!" You finally managed to kick your legs loose, scrambling out of the blanket pile like a chaotic animal to snatch the ugly shirt from his hands.

Jungkook hopped back, laughing a rich, loud sound that echoed through your quiet apartment. He stood by the window, watching with a satisfied little smirk as you finally began neatly folding your clothes and placing them into the suitcase. The suffocating, heavy weight that had been sitting on your lungs all morning suddenly felt a little bit lighter. He was loud, he was annoying, and he completely ignored your personal space, but he was exactly the distraction you needed to keep from losing your mind.

For the next thirty minutes, you both fought over what to pack. Jungkook tried to convince you that bringing five pairs of shoes was unnecessary, while he simultaneously tried to pack three different gaming controllers "just in case the hotels have a good TV." He kept grabbing random things around your room—like a giant stuffed bear and a pack of old sticky notes—and trying to drop them into the suitcase just to see your annoyed reaction.

"We are not taking the stuffed bear, Jungkook! It takes up the entire suitcase!" you yelled, throwing a pair of rolled-up socks directly at his forehead.

He caught the socks perfectly with one hand, laughing loudly. "But what if you get scared of the dark? Who is going to protect you? Me? I'm terrified of ghosts. The bear is our only line of defense."

"I'll take my chances with the ghosts," you laughed, snatching the bear back and tossing it onto your bed.

Once the suitcase was finally zipped shut, Jungkook grabbed the handle and lifted it effortlessly, checking his imaginary watch. "Alright, let's move out. The Jeon Express is leaving the station."

You walked into the bathroom to quickly wash your face and brush your teeth. Your reflection looked a bit tired, with faint dark circles under your eyes, but the tears had completely stopped. You tied your hair up into a messy, casual bun and walked out to the parking lot.

The bright summer sun hit your face, making you squint. Jungkook was already leaning against the hood of his clean black car, holding two large iced coffees from the café down the street. He didn't say anything heavy or emotional as you approached. He just handed you the plastic cup, his warm, thick fingers brushing against yours for a brief second.

Before you could pull the passenger door open, Jungkook stepped directly into your path, blocking you. He was much taller than you, shadowing you completely from the bright light.

He reached out, his large thumb pressing gently against your cheek. He carefully wiped away a tiny, dried tear track that you had missed near your ear. His touch was incredibly soft, completely different from his usual clumsy, rough-and-tumble energy.

He looked straight down into your eyes, his voice dropping into a quiet, remarkably gentle tone. "Hey. No more crying about that guy on this trip. From this moment on, you only laugh with me. Deal?"

You stared up at his dark, clear eyes, completely caught off guard by how serious he looked for that single second. You nodded slowly, a genuine smile pulling at your lips. "Deal."

"Awesome!" Jungkook yelled instantly, completely shattering the quiet, sweet moment as he slammed his hand down onto the roof of the car and hopped into the driver's seat. "Get in, loser! We have snacks to buy and miles to burn!"

You climbed into the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt as Jungkook cranked up the engine. The car filled with the cool blast of the air conditioner, and as you pulled out of the parking lot, you looked over at him. He was already tapping his fingers happily against the steering wheel, completely ready for the road. The sadness was still there, lurking in the back of your mind, but looking at his bright, energetic smile, you knew this road trip was going to be exactly what you needed.

…

The first two hours of the road trip were an absolute, unmitigated war zone. Specifically, a war over who controlled the car's Bluetooth settings, and neither of you was willing to sign a peace treaty.

The highway stretched out infinitely ahead of you, a long ribbon of gray asphalt surrounded by massive, rolling green hills and a perfectly clear blue sky. It was a textbook summer day. The windows were rolled down halfway, filling the car with a loud, roaring rush of wind that blew your hair completely wildly across your face and brought in the fresh scent of cut grass.

You were slouched deeply in the passenger seat, your knees propped against the dashboard, staring out at the passing green trees. For a brief minute, the noise of the wind faded into the background of your mind, and your brain tried to slide back into thinking about your ex. You felt that familiar, annoying little sting in your throat, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. Automatically, wanting to drown out the silence, your hand reached toward the glowing dashboard screen to connect your phone.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jungkook asked suddenly. He didn't take his eyes off the highway, but his upper body instantly leaned toward the center console like a guard dog protecting a bone.

"I’m just trying to play a song," you said, pulling up a playlist of very quiet, very sad indie acoustic ballads. "Just background music for the drive."

"Absolutely not," Jungkook said, pressing his foot down on the gas pedal to pass a slow-moving semi-truck. "I know that exact tone of voice. You’re about to play one of those depressing songs where the singer sounds like they’re whispering while crying in a dark closet. This car is a designated heartbreak-free zone. No sad guitars allowed on my watch."

"Jungkook, it’s a beautiful song! Just let me play one!" you argued, reaching your fingers closer to the touchscreen. "It sets a peaceful mood!"

"Peaceful? Sweets, that song makes people want to stare out a rainy window and question their entire existence," he countered.

In one lightning-fast move, Jungkook snatched the charging cable, plugged it into his own phone, and slapped his device firmly into the cup holder. "Too bad. The captain has taken total control of the vessel. Prepare your ears for actual quality."

A ridiculously loud, incredibly upbeat pop song from 2012 blasted through the car speakers. The beat was incredibly fast, and entirely impossible to take seriously. It was a song you hadn't heard since high school, filled with cheesy dramatic bass drops.

You let out a massive groan, covering your face with both hands as the speakers rattled. "Oh my god, please no. Not this song. Turn it off right now! I will actually jump out of the moving vehicle, I swear to god."

Jungkook completely ignored your suffering. His face lit up with pure, unadulterated mischief. He snatched his half-empty plastic water bottle from the holder, gripping it tightly like a professional microphone. He started belting out the lyrics at the absolute top of his lungs, intentionally hitting every single high note completely out of tune. He bounced his shoulders to the rhythm, his head bobbing wildly as he kept his eyes safely glued to the road.

"Come on! I know you know the chorus! Don't lie to me!" he shouted over the blaring music, shoving the top of the water bottle toward your face like an aggressive reporter.

"I am absolutely not participating in this," you laughed, trying your hardest to maintain a stern, annoyed expression, but failing completely. You tried to swat the water bottle away, but he just leaned closer, his voice getting even louder and more ridiculous.

When the main chorus hit, Jungkook did a dramatic, slow-motion hair shake, turning his head just enough to give you a ridiculous, cheesy wink through his dark sunglasses. He looked so absurd—this highly muscular, broad-shouldered guy who spent five days a week lifting heavy weights at the gym, singing a sugary girl-pop anthem with the passion of a stadium performer.

The ridiculousness of the sight was too much. You burst into a loud, hysterical laugh that completely filled the space of the car, your ribs aching. Hearing you laugh only made Jungkook grow more confident. He started doing little seated dance moves, tapping his fingers wildly against the steering wheel and wiggling his eyebrows at you.

By the time the fourth song came on, you completely threw away your dignity. You grabbed an empty plastic coffee cup to use as your own microphone, rolled your window down all the way, and joined him. You both screamed the ridiculous lyrics out into the open air as the highway blurred past, your voices cracking on the high notes. For the first time in what felt like centuries, the heavy, suffocating cloud in your head was totally gone. You weren't a dumped ex-girlfriend wallowing in self-pity. You were just you, acting like a complete idiot with your best friend.

"We need a strategy," Jungkook said solemnly as you walked through the sliding glass doors of the convenience store. The air conditioning hit you like an icy wall, smelling faintly of stale coffee and hot dogs. "We can't just pick random snacks. We need a perfect balance of salty, sweet, sour, and a wild card."

"A wild card?" you asked, eyebrow raised as you grabbed a small plastic shopping basket.

"Yes. Something we have never tried before, or something that looks mildly dangerous to eat," he explained, completely serious. He marched straight over to the chip aisle, his eyes scanning the shelves like a scientist. "For salty, we are obviously going with the giant bag of sour cream and onion. It's a classic. No debate."

"Fine, but I get to choose the sweet snack," you argued, stepping past him to grab a pack of chocolate-covered pretzels. "These are mandatory."

Jungkook looked at the bag, then down at you, nodding slowly in approval. "Excellent choice. The salt-to-chocolate ratio is highly efficient. I respect it." He then wandered over to the candy section, holding up a box of extremely sour gummy worms. "For sour, we go with these. They look like they will strip the enamel right off our teeth. Perfect."

"And what’s the wild card?" you asked, following him as he walked over to a weird display near the cash register.

He pointed a finger at a dusty jar containing massive, bright pink pickled sausages floating in cloudy liquid. "Those. They look like an alien life form."

"Absolutely not, Jungkook! I am not letting you eat a radioactive sausage in your car. The smell will never leave the fabric," you shrieked, grabbing his arm to pull him away from the counter.

Jungkook laughed, a rich, bouncy sound that made his chest shake against your hand. He let you drag him toward the drink cooler, where he immediately grabbed three bottles of sweet banana milk and an iced coffee for you. "Fine, no alien sausages. But if we run out of fuel for our brains, I’m blaming you."

By the time you reached the register, your basket was completely overflowing with junk food. Jungkook pulled out his wallet before you could even reach for yours, tossing his card to the cashier with a confident smirk.

"I told you, I’m funding the snack department on this trip," he said, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully. "Your money is no good here, sweets."

"You're just trying to buy my affection so I don't roast your music taste anymore," you teased, grabbing the heavy plastic bag as the cashier handed it over.

"Is it working?" he asked, flashing a quick, bunny-toothed grin as he pushed the exit door open for you.

"Slightly," you admitted, popping a chocolate pretzel into your mouth as you walked back out into the bright, baking afternoon heat. "The banana milk definitely helped your case."

Back on the road, the smooth, flat highway slowly began to change. The scenery grew more crowded with large patches of trees, and the road began to tilt upward as you approached the lower hills of the mountain range.

It was around this time that Jungkook’s "perfect internal navigation system," which he had spent the last thirty miles bragging about, proved to be an absolute, unmitigated disaster.

"Jungkook," you said, leaning forward in your seat and squinting through the windshield as the smooth asphalt slowly transitioned into a bumpy, unpaved road. "The giant yellow sign we passed back there definitely said 'Road Closed Ahead.' Like, in giant, flashing bold letters."

"Don't worry about it, it’s fine. The main highway has a massive traffic backup according to my radar. I’m taking a highly calculated shortcut," he said smoothly, spinning the leather steering wheel to the right with total, unearned confidence. "Trust the process. I have an internal compass. It's an instinct, really. My ancestors were probably navigators."

"Your ancestors probably didn't have to deal with dead ends, Jungkook," you muttered, holding onto the door handle as the car jolted over a particularly deep pothole.

The road grew narrower and narrower, the thick trees closing in on either side until branches were lightly brushing against the side mirrors. The GPS screen on the dashboard had completely lost its mind, showing your little car icon spinning in circles in the middle of a massive green void.

Ten minutes later, the road completely ended. It didn't just narrow down—it stopped dead at a rotten wooden farm fence. On the other side of the fence stood three very large, very brown, and very confused-looking cows. They stopped chewing their grass to stare directly through the windshield at your car.

The car went completely silent except for the low, quiet idling hum of the engine.

You turned your head very slowly on the headrest to look at him. Jungkook was still gripping the steering wheel with both hands, staring blankly through the glass at the cows. His mouth was slightly open, his brain actively processing the absolute defeat.

The silence stretched on for a solid thirty seconds.

"Wow," you whispered softly, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Incredible shortcut, captain. Truly magnificent. Should I roll down the passenger window and ask the middle cow for the fastest route back to civilization, or do you want to handle the negotiations?"

Jungkook’s ears instantly turned a bright, burning shade of pink, the color creeping up from his collar. He cleared his throat loudly, stubbornly refusing to look at you at first. He squeezed the steering wheel tightly, then let out a tiny, embarrassed, high-pitched giggle that he tried to disguise as a cough.

"Hey... honestly, sweets, they look like they know the area," he mumbled, finally glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "They look like locals. They probably have a lot of wisdom."

"Admission of total defeat, Jeon. Say the words," you teased, unbuckling your seatbelt so you could lean your upper body completely across the center console, getting directly into his line of sight. "I want to hear you say it."

"Fine! I whined," he groaned, throwing his arms up in the air dramatically and letting his head fall back against the seat. "We are completely, utterly lost. My internal compass is broken. The ancestors lied to me. You win the navigation trophy. Happy now?"

"Incredibly happy," you laughed loudly, reaching your hand completely across his lap to grab his phone from the plastic dashboard mount so you could check the real map. "Now give me the device so we don't end up living in a barn with your new friends."

Because you had lunged over so quickly without thinking, your shoulder bumped hard against his broad chest. Your hand froze right on the screen of his phone.

Jungkook froze instantly beneath you. He didn't pull back. You froze too, your breath hitching as you suddenly realized exactly how close your faces were.

From this distance, the loud wind from outside felt completely quiet. The playful, chaotic energy that had filled the car for hours vanished in a single fraction of a second. You were leaning completely over his lap, your face mere inches from his. You could smell the sharp, clean, woodsy scent of his cologne mixed with the faint sweetness of the mint gum he was chewing.

His dark, round eyes were incredibly wide, staring straight down into your face. In the dimming afternoon light inside the car, his jawline looked remarkably sharp. For a tiny, terrifyingly unexpected second, his gaze dropped from your eyes down to your lips, lingering there for a heavy beat before snapping back up.

Your brain suddenly realized, with terrifying clarity, that Jungkook was very large, very solid, and entirely a grown man.

The silence lasted a second too long, the tension stretching tight like a rubber band.

Jungkook quickly cleared his throat, the sound a bit rougher than usual. He broke the weird spell by gently wrapping his large fingers around your wrist to help guide the phone into your hand, his skin burning hot against yours. He flashed a slightly forced, goofy grin to shatter the moment. "Here. Take it, captain. Save us from the cows."

"Thanks," you whispered, your voice a little breathless as you scrambled back into your own seat as fast as possible. Your heart was thumping a little too fast, a deep, hot blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks as you quickly stared down at the phone screen, praying he wouldn't notice.

"Alright," you said after a minute, desperately trying to keep your voice level and normal as you tapped the map screen. "If you put the car in reverse and back up about fifty yards, there’s a small tractor path that loops back to the main county road."

"On it," Jungkook said, clearly glad for the distraction. He threw the car into reverse, throwing his right arm over the back of your headrest so he could look out the rear window as he backed up.

Having his large arm stretched out right behind your neck made you feel incredibly small, his biceps flexing just inches from your face. You kept your eyes glued to the phone screen, pretending to study the map with intense interest, though the lines were completely blurring together.

"See? I told you I'd get us off the beaten path," Jungkook joked as the car successfully bounced back onto the main paved road a few minutes later. The playful, easygoing banter was returning, but the air in the car felt slightly different now—warmer, charged with a tiny, lingering spark that neither of you knew how to acknowledge.

"You got us into a staring contest with livestock, Jungkook," you retorted, rolling your eyes but letting out a soft laugh. "Let's just stick to the actual road from now on."

"Fines," he chuckled, tapping his fingers against the wheel as the highway finally began to wind upward into the beautiful, dark green mountains. "But if we see a cool waterfall on a dirt path, I'm not making any promises."

…

By the time you finally reached the higher mountain region, the bright summer sky had completely vanished. It was replaced by heavy, bruised-looking purple clouds. A sudden, massive downpour began to slam against the windshield, the rain coming down so thick that the wipers struggled to keep up with the sheets of water.

The GPS led you down a narrow, winding road that cut through massive forests covered in thick gray mist. It felt like you were driving straight into a movie scene. Finally, the car pulled up to a small, rustic wooden cabin nestled tightly between the trees. The yellow porch light cast a warm, blurry glow through the dark storm.

"We made it alive," Jungkook said, turning off the ignition. The sudden silence inside the car, save for the loud drumming of rain on the metal roof, felt incredibly heavy.

He looked over at you, noticing that you were shivering slightly from the sudden drop in the mountain temperature. Without saying a single word, he reached into the back seat, grabbed his spare, giant black hoodie, and dumped it right into your lap.

"Put that on before you turn into an ice cube," he said smoothly. "You're shaking."

The hoodie was completely massive on you. When you pulled it over your head, it smelled entirely like his clean laundry detergent and faint mint gum. The sleeves completely swallowed your hands, extending way past your fingers, but it was incredibly warm. You buried your nose into the high collar, instantly feeling a sense of absolute safety.

Getting the luggage inside, however, turned into a complete comedy. Jungkook, determined to show off his weekly gym progress, insisted on carrying both your giant suitcase and his heavy duffel bag at the exact same time. He grabbed both handles, took three highly confident, heavy steps toward the wooden porch, and suddenly, the cheap zipper on his overstuffed duffel bag completely popped open.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Jungkook muttered, freezing in place.

Before he could drop the bags, half of his packed clothes—including five pairs of bright neon socks and his favorite oversized gaming t-shirts—spilled out onto the wet, rainy wooden steps.

You stood safely under the porch roof, burying your face in your hands as you tried to suffocate your laughter. Jungkook scrambled around in the pouring rain, frantically scooping up his wet laundry with a deeply panicked, embarrassed expression.

"Don't look at me!" he yelled dramatically, clutching a bundle of wet gray sweatpants to his chest like a shield. "This is completely destroying my cool image!"

"You don't have a cool image!" you shouted back, laughing until your stomach hurt as you helped him grab the last few stray shirts and pulled him inside the warm cabin.

The interior of the place was beautiful—all dark wood walls, a stone fireplace, and a massive glass window looking out at the rainy woods. But the second you both walked into the bedroom area, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There was only one bed. It was a massive, king-sized bed with fluffy white comforters and a mountain of pillows, sitting right in the center of the room.

"Wait a minute," you said, quickly pulling up the email confirmation on your phone. "I definitely selected the option for two twin beds. I checked the box."

Jungkook walked back out to the small main office by the lobby, returning a few minutes later while scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Uh, so... turns out there was a massive booking glitch because of the storm. A bunch of travelers got stranded on the highway, so the place is completely full. This is the only room left in the entire place."

You looked at the single, giant bed, and then you looked at Jungkook.

In the past, sharing a sleeping space wouldn't have made you blink. You had known this guy forever. You had fallen asleep on his bedroom floor while playing video games a million times. It was always safe, always platonic, always totally effortless. But right now, standing in the dim, warm light of the cabin, the atmosphere felt completely different.

He wasn't the scrawny kid from next door anymore. He was a grown man with heavy shoulders and a presence that suddenly made the bedroom feel very, very small.

"Hey," Jungkook said softly, noticing your sudden silence. He stepped closer, clearly misinterpreting your expression. He thought you were getting sad about your ruined romantic plans again. "Look, if you’re uncomfortable, I can easily sleep on the floor. Or I can just crash in the back seat of the car. It’s seriously no big deal, sweets. Don't worry about it."

You looked at his damp hair, a few wet strands sticking to his forehead from the rain, and his wide, genuinely concerned eyes. You felt a wave of guilt for making him feel like an intruder.

"No, don't be ridiculous," you said, forcing a loud, casual laugh to clear the weird, awkward tension in the air. "It's a massive bed. We can just put a line of pillows down the middle. Like we did when we were kids. If your foot crosses over to my territory, I’m kicking you out."

Jungkook’s entire face instantly brightened, his familiar bunny smile returning in full force. "Oh, it's on. If you steal the blankets, I'm charging you a late fee."

After a highly sophisticated dinner of instant spicy ramen that you bought from the lobby store, the night grew late. The heavy rain outside continued to beat a loud, steady rhythm against the glass window. The cabin was incredibly warm, heated by the small electric fireplace in the corner.

You had changed into comfortable sweatpants but kept his giant hoodie on, the fabric keeping you completely cozy. Jungkook had changed into low-slung gray sweatpants and a simple, tight black t-shirt that showed off the lines of his arms.

You both climbed into the massive bed, keeping an intentional, wide gap of white sheet between your bodies, with a long fortress of pillows stacked neatly down the center. You lay flat on your back, staring up at the dark wooden beams of the ceiling, listening to the storm.

"Hey," Jungkook’s voice was surprisingly quiet, cutting through the dark room. He was lying on his side, facing your direction, his head propped up by his hand.

"Yeah?" you asked, turning your head toward him.

Jungkook looked at you through the gap in the pillows. The playful, goofy expression was gone. He looked serious, his dark eyes analyzing you carefully. "Can I ask you something? And you have to promise not to get mad or throw a pillow at my face."

"Depends on the question," you muttered, shifting slightly under the heavy blanket.

"Why are you actually crying so much over this guy?" he asked bluntly, his voice grounded and steady.

You blinked, caught completely off guard. "What do you mean? He broke up with me right before a vacation. It's normal to be sad."

Jungkook let out a low, quiet huff that sounded like a laugh, but it wasn't mean. He rested his chin on his forearm, staring directly into your eyes. "Sweets, let’s be entirely real for a second. That guy was a total time pass. For both of you."

"He was not!" you protested, though your voice lacked real conviction.

"He absolutely was," Jungkook countered smoothly, his tone incredibly calm. "You guys dated for what, eight months? And half the time, you forgot to even text him back because you were too busy baking or watching a show. You never talked about a future with him. You never even looked excited when he called. When he was around, it was just... convenient. It was a habit."

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words completely died in your throat. You stared up at the ceiling, your heart thumping against your ribs as his words sank in.

"I stayed back and didn't say anything because it wasn't my place," Jungkook continued softly, his voice dropping into a lower, gentler register. "I honestly thought you weren't even serious about him. I thought if you broke up, you’d just say 'oh well' and move on. So seeing you completely turn into a blanket burrito and weep for twelve hours straight... it doesn't make sense. You didn't love him, sweets."

"Then why does it hurt so much?" you whispered, your voice suddenly feeling very small, very raw in the dark cabin. A tiny, hot tear slipped down the side of your face, soaking into the pillow. "Why am I so miserable?"

Jungkook didn't answer with words right away. Instead, you felt the mattress shift heavily. He didn't cross the pillow barrier completely, but he reached his large, warm hand over the top of the cushions. His long fingers gently found yours under the edge of the blanket.

He didn't squeeze your hand hard, but his grip was incredibly steady, anchor-like. His skin was burning hot against your cold fingers.

"Because your pride is hurt," Jungkook said softly, his dark eyes fixed entirely on your face in the dim orange glow of the fireplace. "He rejected you, and nobody likes being rejected. It makes you feel lonely. It makes you feel like you failed at something. But you're missing the habit, not the person. You deserve someone who isn't just a 'time pass,'. You deserve someone who actually makes you feel alive."

You stared at him through the darkness, your breath completely catching in your throat.

His large thumb began to slowly, casually stroke the back of your hand, a tiny, repetitive movement that sent a strange, electric shiver straight up your arm. You were acutely, terrifyingly aware of how large he was, how close he was sitting on the other side of those pillows.

Your brain completely short-circuited. You had spent months telling yourself that your ex was the partner you were supposed to have, but standing next to Jungkook's sudden, intense emotional maturity, that entire relationship felt like a joke. The deep, unconditional comfort you felt with Jungkook right now—the way he read your mind, the way he knew exactly what you needed without you asking—it felt dangerously close to what real love was supposed to look like.

No, you told yourself fiercely, your heart slamming wildly against your ribs. You are just lonely. You are just emotional because of the breakup, so you are projecting onto your best friend. It’s just the cozy cabin setting making things weird.

"Jungkook," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to pull yourself back to reality.

"Yeah?" he murmured, his eyes dropping to your mouth for a fraction of a second before snapping back up to meet your gaze.

"You're being entirely too smart for a guy who got lost because of three cows," you teased weakly, trying to bring back the safe, funny dynamic before the physical tension completely swallowed you whole.

Jungkook froze for a second, then let out a rich, quiet chuckle, the heavy, romantic spell breaking just enough for both of you to breathe. He didn't let go of your hand, though. He kept his fingers loosely intertwined with yours over the pillows, his warmth keeping you grounded.

"Just admit I’m right. It’ll save us a lot of time." he grumbled playfully, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"You're mildly right," you admitted, a genuine, soft smile finally pulling at your lips as you closed your eyes. "Just a little bit."

"I'll take it," he whispered.

…

The following morning, the mountain storm had completely vanished, leaving behind a crisp, beautifully blue sky. The air smelled of fresh pine and wet earth. After a quick breakfast of slightly burnt toast that Jungkook managed to overcook while trying to do a celebratory dance in the kitchen, you both loaded up the car and drove further south, descending the winding mountain roads toward a historic coastal town known for its gorgeous beaches.

The three-hour drive was filled with more loud music and Jungkook trying to explain the entire deep history of a sci-fi video game with intense hand gestures that almost made him miss an exit, but it kept you laughing the entire way. The heavy, emotional conversation from the night before wasn't mentioned again, but something had fundamentally shifted. Every time his hand brushed yours near the gear shift, or every time he called you sweets with that low, casual roll of his voice, your stomach did a tiny, nervous flip.

It's just the post-breakup rebound brain, you told yourself firmly, staring out at the passing blue ocean. He's just my best friend being a good guy. And you were confident about that feeling.

By the time the afternoon sun was high and baking, you finally arrived at your next stop: a stunning, incredibly luxurious boutique hotel built right on the edge of a massive cliff overlooking the sparkling sea. It looked like a place where millionaires vacationed, complete with a grand marble lobby, high ceilings, and giant floor-to-ceiling glass walls showing off the crashing waves below.

"Wow," Jungkook muttered under his breath, adjusting the strap of his heavy duffel bag as you both walked across the polished floors. "You really went all out on this booking. I feel like I need to apologize to the floor for stepping on it with my sneakers."

"I saved up for six months for this specific stop," you said, pulling out your ID as you walked up to the grand marble front desk. "It was supposed to be the highlight of the trip."

The receptionist, an older woman with a very neat bun and a sharp, elegant uniform, typed into her computer. Her polite smile quickly faltered into a worried frown as she tapped the keyboard a few more times. "Oh, dear. It looks like we have a bit of a major system glitch today. Your reservation for a standard queen room was accidentally cancelled during our server update this morning."

Your stomach instantly dropped. "What? But I already received the confirmation email weeks ago. Is there another standard room?"

"I see that, and I am deeply sorry," the woman explained nicely, looking genuinely apologetic. "The issue is that we are completely booked tonight due to the local seafood festival. The absolute only room we have left available in the entire building is our top-tier Honeymoon Luxury Suite."

You winced, already anticipating the terrible answer. "How much extra is the upgrade fee?"

The receptionist checked her screen. "Normally, it is double the standard price. However, since it was our technical error, our policy allows me to give it to you for a very small, flat fee... if you are actually celebrating an anniversary or a honeymoon. It’s a strict rule for that specific luxury suite because of the promotional packages."

You opened your mouth, completely prepared to tell the truth, admit you were just friends, and accept the depressing fact that you’d probably have to spend the night sleeping in the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car down the street.

But before a single word could leave your lips, Jungkook smoothly stepped forward. Without warning, he slid a heavy, confident arm completely around your waist, yanking you firmly against his side. His grip was incredibly strong, remarkably warm, and shockingly casual, pressing your hip right against his thigh.

"Actually," Jungkook said, his voice dropping into a smooth, deeply charming register that you had never heard him use in his entire life. He looked down at you with an incredibly sweet, star-struck smile that looked terrifyingly real. "It’s our honeymoon. We literally just got married three days ago. Right, sweets?"

Your entire brain completely shutting down. Your eyes went wide with absolute shock, your body freezing under the intense heat of his arm wrapped around you. Jungkook gave your waist a subtle, firm little warning squeeze, his dark eyes pleading with you to just play along with the lie.

"Uh... yes! Absolutely!" you stammered out, forcing a high-pitched, awkward laugh that sounded completely insane to your own ears. "Yes! We are... newlyweds! Just so deeply in love. So much love between us."

The receptionist’s professional face instantly melted into a warm, excited grin. "Oh, congratulations! How absolutely wonderful. In that case, the Honeymoon Suite is officially yours, and I will waive the upgrade fee entirely as a wedding gift from the hotel management."

"Thank you so much, we really appreciate it," Jungkook said, flashing his perfect, white teeth as he took the gold room key card.

The exact millisecond the elevator doors slid shut and you were completely alone, you turned around and slapped his muscular arm hard. "Are you completely out of your mind? What was that?"

Jungkook let out a massive, booming laugh, rubbing his arm where you hit him even though it didn't hurt him at all. His arm dropped away from your waist, and you were deeply annoyed by how suddenly cold your side felt without his hand there.

"Hey! I just saved us a thousand dollars and got us a literal celebrity suite," he said proudly, jiggling the gold key card in front of your nose. "You should be thanking your highly attractive new husband."

"Don't say weird jokes like that," you mumbled, your face burning intensely hot as the elevator shot upward. "We have to keep pretending now. What if the staff sees us in the lobby later? We can't break character."

"Then we just act all lovey-dovey," Jungkook teased, leaning his face down closer to yours with a dramatic, exaggerated pout. "Do you want to practice holding hands right now? I can kiss your cheek if you want to make it look believable for the security cameras."

"Shut up, Jungkook," you laughed, shoving his broad chest away, but your stomach was doing wild, terrifying acrobatics. Touching his chest felt different now—less like a joke and more like an dangerous reminder of how solid he was.

The Honeymoon Suite was completely ridiculous. It was massive, featuring a private outdoor balcony built directly over the crashing waves, a private hot tub, and a giant king bed covered entirely in fresh, bright red rose petals shaped into a giant heart.

"Oh, man," Jungkook laughed, walking over to the bed, scooping up a handful of rose petals, and blowing them into the air like confetti. "They really went full romance mode. Look at this. It's like a movie set."

You walked past him out onto the sunlit balcony, leaning your hands against the stone railing to escape the enclosed space of the room. The view was breathtaking. The endless blue ocean stretched out to the horizon, the waves crashing loudly against the rocks far below. The salty, warm sea breeze blew through your hair, cooling your hot cheeks.

Jungkook walked out a second later, standing right next to you. He rested his muscular forearms on the railing, looking out at the water. In the bright afternoon sunlight, his profile looked incredibly sharp. The wind ruffled his dark hair, and his jawline looked striking.

"It’s really beautiful here," he said softly, turning his head to look at you.

You looked up, meeting his eyes. For a long, quiet moment, his expression wasn't playful or teasing at all. His dark eyes looked deep, intense, and incredibly serious. He stared down at you with a heavy look that made your breath completely catch in your throat.

"Yeah," you whispered, your heart thudding violently against your ribs. You were completely unsure if your brain was talking about the ocean view or the boy standing right next to you. "It really is."

Jungkook quickly cleared his throat, turning his head back to the water, a faint pink color dusting the tips of his ears.

With several hours to kill before dinner, Jungkook decided the beach was calling. He changed into a pair of simple black swim shorts and a loose white t-shirt, while you threw on a casual beach dress over your swimsuit.

The hotel's private beach was a secluded cove of soft, white sand trapped between towering cliffs. The sun was starting its slow descent, painting the sky in warm shades of gold.

"Race you to the water!" Jungkook yelled the second your feet hit the sand, completely shattering the lingering awkwardness from the balcony.

"Hey! No fair, you have longer legs!" you shrieked, running after him as he kicked off his sandals, laughing wildly.

He didn't actually dive into the water; instead, he stopped right at the shoreline, letting the cool, foamy waves lap at his ankles. When you caught up to him, out of breath and laughing, he suddenly scooped up a handful of ocean water and splashed it directly at your legs.

"Jungkook! It’s freezing!" you screamed, instantly splashing him back.

What followed was a full-scale water war. Jungkook took the brunt of your splashes, dramatically throwing his arms up and pretending to be defeated by your attacks, his loud, rich laughter echoing against the cliffs. He was careful not to splash you too hard, always making sure you were having fun.

Eventually, soaked and completely exhausted from laughing, you both collapsed onto a large beach towel you had spread out on the dry sand, just out of reach of the tide. You lay flat on your back, staring up at the golden clouds, your chest rising and falling.

Jungkook propped himself up on his elbow next to you, shaking his wet hair like a puppy, sending a few stray drops of water onto your arm.

"Hey! Watch it!" you complained, giggling as you swatted at him.

"Sorry, sweets," he chuckled, his voice soft. He didn't look away this time. He stayed propped up, his dark eyes tracing the lines of your face as you smiled. The casual use of the nickname didn't feel like a joke anymore. It felt heavy.

"You know," you said quietly, trying to keep the mood light as you stared at the sky. "My ex never wanted to go to the beach. He said sand was too messy and annoying to clean out of the car."

Jungkook let out a small, flat sound from his throat. "Like I said, the guy was a time pass. A real partner doesn't care about a little sand if it means making you laugh."

You turned your head to look at him. He was looking down at you with such an intense, steady warmth that your breath completely caught. He wasn't moving closer, he wasn't overstepping, but the emotional security he was offering you was terrifying.

Your mind instantly went into overdrive. You are just comparing him to your ex because you're hurt, you lectured yourself frantically. Don't read into it. Don't ruin the best friendship you have.

"Well," you whispered, forcing a playful smirk onto your face despite the frantic thumping of your heart. "You're definitely messy, Jeon. Look at your hair."

Jungkook blinked, the intense look dissolving into a goofy crinkle of his eyes as he rubbed his messy, wet locks. "Hey, this is beach style. People pay a lot of money for this look."

You laughed, rolling your eyes, but as you both lay there watching the sun slowly dip toward the horizon, the silence between you felt completely charged. The lines were blurring faster than you could count, and you were running out of excuses to tell your own heart.

…

The golden hue of the sunset had completely melted into a deep, velvety indigo by the time you both made it back upstairs to the Honeymoon Suite. The ocean outside was a dark, roaring shadow beneath the balcony, its rhythm steady and heavy. Inside, the room felt incredibly warm, the scent of the fresh rose petals still hanging thick and sweet in the air.

You were both completely exhausted, your skin radiating that pleasant, slightly tight heat that only comes from a full day under the summer sun and salt water.

"I am so hungry I could actually eat that wooden door frame," Jungkook groaned, throwing himself flat across the giant king bed, entirely unbothered by the fact that he was crushing the neatly arranged heart of rose petals. He splayed his arms and legs out, letting out a long, dramatic sigh into the pillows. "We need food. Immediately. If I don't get protein in the next ten minutes, I am going to wither away into a shadow."

"You're not going to wither away, you dramatic infant," you laughed, walking over to the small desk to pick up the leather-bound room service menu. "Let’s see what they have."

As you flipped through the glossy pages, your eyes widened slightly at the menu options. Because it was a dedicated luxury honeymoon suite, the room service wasn't just standard burgers and fries. Everything was explicitly organized for couples.

"Uh, Jungkook?" you called out, biting your lower lip nervously. "They have a 'Lovers' Seafood Platter' for two, a 'Sweetheart Fondue Share-Box,' and... a complimentary bottle of champagne that comes automatically with any evening dinner order for newlyweds."

Jungkook popped his head up from the pillows, his dark eyes instantly lighting up like a little kid on Christmas morning. "Complimentary champagne? And a giant platter of seafood? Sweets, call them right now. Give them the fake wedding details. Tell them we are absolutely famished from all our deep, eternal newlywed love."

"Jungkook, we are going to get caught," you warned, but a small, bubbly laugh escaped you anyway.

"We won't get caught! We are committed to the bit," he insisted, scrambling off the bed and marching over to you. He leaned his shoulder against yours, looking down at the menu over your arm. He was so close you could feel the physical heat radiating off his chest, still smelling faintly of ocean salt and his clean deodorant. "Look, just put on your best 'happily married' voice. You can do it."

With a deep breath, you picked up the vintage-style room phone and dialed the kitchen. The second the staff answered, Jungkook leaned his head right next to yours, his cheek almost brushing your ear so he could overhear the call, his quiet, bouncy giggles vibrating against your shoulder.

"Hi, yes, we’d like to order the Lovers' Seafood Platter, please," you said, trying desperately to sound mature and sophisticated while Jungkook actively made ridiculous, kissy-faces at you to try and make you crack. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block him out. "Yes, room 402. And... yes, we are the newlyweds from this afternoon. Thank you."

The second you hung up the receiver, you turned around and shoved his chest hard. "You are the absolute worst! I almost choked on my own spit because you were making those stupid faces!"

Jungkook stumbled back a step, laughing that rich, loud, bunny-toothed laugh that always made your chest feel tight. "But you didn't crack! You handled it like a professional liar. I'm proud of you, wifey."

"Stop calling me that," you mumbled, your face instantly flushing a violent, brilliant shade of pink. You quickly turned your back to him, pretending to look out the dark window so he wouldn't see the massive effect his stupid, casual jokes were having on your heart rate.

Thirty minutes later, a loud, polite knock echoed at the heavy wooden door.

"I've got it," Jungkook called out, eagerly jogging over to the entrance.

You sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, smoothing down the edges of your oversized t-shirt. The door opened, and a young hotel waiter rolled in a massive, silver room service cart covered in a white linen tablecloth. On top was an absolute mountain of fresh crab legs, grilled shrimp, oysters, and two glowing candles in glass holders. Resting in a silver bucket of crushed ice was a sweat-beaded bottle of expensive champagne.

"Complimentary champagne for the beautiful newlyweds," the waiter said with a warm, respectful bow, lifting the bottle to pop the cork with a smooth, professional pop. He poured the sparkling liquid into two elegant crystal flutes. "The hotel management hopes your marriage is as beautiful and endless as the ocean view tonight."

"Thank you, man. I appreciate it," Jungkook said smoothly.

Before the waiter could turn to leave, he glanced at the large king bed, noticing the scattered rose petals, and then he looked back at the table. He picked up a small, elegant white box from the lower shelf of the cart—something that hadn't been on the menu.

"And a special, complimentary dessert from our pastry chef," the waiter added, a knowing, slightly playful smile on his face as he placed it right between the candles. "Our signature 'Aphrodite Chocolate Molten Cake.' It is designed to be shared... with only one spoon."

You almost choked on thin air. Your eyes darted to the single, shiny silver spoon resting on top of the box.

"Perfect. My favorite," Jungkook said without skipping a single beat. He reached into his pocket, handed the waiter a very generous cash tip, and bid him a good night.

The second the door clicked shut, the room fell into a heavy, quiet stillness. The two tiny candle flames flickered gently in the draft from the balcony, casting long, dancing shadows across the dark wood walls.

Jungkook walked back over to the cart, looking down at the single spoon, then up at you. The easy, confident swagger he had used with the waiter seemed to evaporate, replaced by a sudden, slightly nervous clear of his throat.

"Well," he said, his voice dropping into a lower, quieter register as he pulled out a chair for you. "The guy said it’s a gift. It would be a crime against the pastry industry to let a chocolate cake go to waste."

"Right," you whispered, standing up on slightly shaky legs and sitting down across from him.

For the first twenty minutes, the food was the perfect distraction. You both cracked open crab legs, argued over who got the biggest grilled shrimp, and drank the bubbly champagne. Jungkook, completely true to form, ended up getting a drop of seafood sauce right on the front of his clean t-shirt, which led to a five-minute bickering match about how he was incapable of eating like a civilized human being.

It was safe. It was loud. It was exactly how you two had always been.

But then, the main platter was cleared away, leaving only the small white box in the center of the table. Jungkook reached out, his large fingers untying the silk ribbon and opening the cardboard flaps.

The dessert was beautiful—a dark, rich chocolate cake dusting with powdered sugar, its center visibly soft and oozing warm, dark chocolate fudge. And there, sitting right next to it, was the single silver spoon.

"Alright," Jungkook said, picking up the utensil. He scooped up a perfectly neat, warm bite of the cake, the rich chocolate dripping slightly. He didn't hand the spoon to you. Instead, he leaned across the small table, his dark, intense eyes locking onto yours as he held the spoon out toward your mouth. "Open up, sweets. Let's see if the chef is actually a professional."

You stared at him, your eyes wide. His large hand was incredibly steady, but you could see a tiny, barely noticeable muscle twitching in his sharp jawline. He wasn't laughing. He wasn't making a goofy face. He was looking at you with a heavy, unblinking intensity that made your entire soul feel exposed.

He’s just playing into the honeymoon joke, you tried to tell your screaming brain. It's just part of the bit.

But as you slowly leaned forward and let him slide the warm, sweet bite into your mouth, the flavor of the rich chocolate was completely overwhelmed by the sheer, terrifying proximity of his body. Your lips brushed lightly against the cold silver of the spoon, and you swore you saw Jungkook’s eyes darken for a fraction of a second, his gaze dropping straight to your mouth before snapping back to your eyes.

"Is it good?" he asked, his voice noticeably rougher, dropping into a quiet, raspy whisper that sent a sharp, electric shiver straight down your spine.

"Yeah," you breathed out, your voice barely audible over the sound of the ocean waves outside. "It’s... really good."

Jungkook didn't pull back immediately. He stayed leaning across the table, his face just inches from yours in the dim, flickering candlelight. The silence stretched between you, heavy and magnetic, pulling you both in like an undertow.

In that single, agonizingly slow second, you didn't think about your ex-boyfriend once. The memory of that eight-month relationship felt like a faint, insignificant shadow from a completely different lifetime. It hadn't been real. It hadn't been deep. It had been a time pass. But this? The wild, chaotic, terrifyingly intense heat roaring through your veins right now as you stared into Jungkook's eyes?

This was real. This was the exact feeling you had been running away from because you were too scared to admit that your best friend had the power to completely destroy your entire world with a single look.

Jungkook slowly pulled the spoon back, his thumb casually wiping away a tiny speck of chocolate from his own knuckle. He didn't take a bite for himself. He just sat back in his chair, his eyes never leaving your face, watching the deep, burning blush completely cover your cheeks.

"Good," he murmured, a small, knowing, and dangerously handsome smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Because we have a lot of cake left to finish."

…

The rich, sweet taste of the chocolate cake stayed in the air long after the silver room service cart had been pushed into the far corner of the suite. The two small candles on the table had burned down a lot. Their tiny, dying flames threw long, moving shadows across the white blanket of the giant king-sized bed.

Inside the room, the air felt completely heavy. The silence was no longer the comfortable, easy quiet of two people who had known each other since they were kids. It was thick, messy, and full of confusion. Every single sound—even the rustle of the curtains—felt entirely too loud.

You felt like you could not breathe. Your chest felt tight, and your brain was spinning out of control. Needing to escape the small room before you completely lost your mind, you stepped out onto the private balcony.

The cold air hit you like a physical shock. The big storm from the night before was completely gone, but the ocean breeze here was much stronger. It carried a sharp, icy chill. The wind blew the dark fabric of Jungkook’s massive black hoodie wildly around your legs. That heavy cotton shirt was the only warm thing you had. Far below the balcony, the dark, ink-like water of the sea slammed violently against the sharp rocks, throwing white sprays of water high into the moonlight.

You gripped the cold stone railing with both hands. Your knuckles turned completely white because you were holding on so tight. You leaned your weight forward, letting the freezing mist hit your face. You desperately wanted the cold air to fix your messy thoughts.

What are you doing? you asked yourself angrily, closing your eyes tight while your heart beat fast and hard against your ribs. He is your best friend. He is Jungkook. He is the guy who has seen you look like a total mess, the guy who used to help you with your high school homework. He is just being extra nice because your ex rejected you. Do not make this weird. If you mess this up, you will lose the only safe person you have left in your life.

But the excuse did not work anymore. It felt like a total lie. The way his dark eyes had looked at you when he fed you that single spoon of chocolate, the sudden, deep roughness in his voice—that was not just friendship. It was not a joke for the hotel staff. It was something heavy, something real, and it terrified you to your core. You were not ready for this. You were still hurting, still confused, and everything was moving way too fast.

The heavy glass sliding door behind you moved with a soft, smooth click.

You did not turn around. You did not need to. The roaring sound of the wind was incredibly loud, but your body knew exactly where he was. The familiar, comforting smell of his clean laundry and the woodsy scent of his cologne cut through the salty air instantly. It wrapped around you before he even said a word.

Jungkook walked up to the stone railing. He did not stand far away from you with a safe gap between your shoulders. Instead, he leaned his large, solid body right next to your elbow. He shifted so he was facing you completely, with his back to the dark ocean.

He had changed out of his wet beach clothes into a clean, soft white tank top and loose gray sweatpants. In the bright, clear light of the full moon, he looked completely different. The cool light showed the sharp lines of his broad shoulders, his heavy chest, and the dark tattoos wrapping all the way down his right arm. He looked so big, so real, and so grown-up.

He did not speak right away. He just stood there, his dark, heavy eyes locked onto the side of your face, watching the wind pull your hair across your cheeks. The silence stretched between you for a long, painful minute. It was full of a sad, heavy ache.

"You're hiding out here," he said quietly. His voice was not loud, and he was not smiling. The playful, goofy tone he always used was completely gone. It was low, deep, and steady.

"I am not hiding," you lied immediately. Your voice sounded small and shaky. You stubbornly kept your eyes fixed on a distant white wave out in the dark sea, completely refusing to look up at him. "I'm just looking at the water. It’s a nice view. I just wanted some fresh air."

"Sweets."

The low roll of the nickname made your stomach do a painful, panicked flip. Before you could step back or run away, Jungkook reached out. His large, warm hand gently cupped the side of your neck. His long fingers wrapped slightly around the back of your neck, and his thumb rested firmly against your jawline. The heat of his palm felt like fire against your cold skin. It sent a sharp, electric shiver straight up your spine.

Gently, but with a firm strength that you could not fight, he tilted your face up. He forced you to look away from the ocean until you had no choice but to look straight into his dark eyes.

"You've been avoiding my eyes since we ate," he said softly, his gaze searching your face with a sad, deep intensity. "Your hands are shaking. And it's not because of the cold wind."

Your breath completely caught in your throat. Up close, you could see the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. You could see a tiny, serious twitch in his jaw. He was looking at you with so much raw emotion that it made you feel completely naked.

"Jungkook, don't," you whispered. Tears of pure stress and confusion started to fill your eyes. Your hands came up instinctively, pressing against his solid chest to try and push him away, but your fingers just ended up gripping his tight tank top. "Please don't do this. We need to stop. We are just playing a game for the hotel room. We need to stop making these jokes. It’s getting way too complicated. I can't handle it."

"Do you really think I’m joking?" he asked.

The question was so quiet, and so deeply sad, that it felt like the entire world stopped moving. The loud sound of the crashing waves below seemed to disappear.

Jungkook stepped even closer, his large, broad body completely blocking the freezing sea wind from hitting you. He trapped you between his big frame and the stone railing. He let his hand drop from your jawline, but he did not move away. Instead, he slid both of his large hands down to grip your waist. His fingers dug firmly into the thick fabric of his own oversized hoodie that you were wearing.

He looked down at you, his chest rising and falling with a deep, heavy breath.

"I haven't been joking once on this entire trip," Jungkook confessed, his voice dropping into a rough whisper. "I wasn't joking when I rolled you into a blanket burrito just to see you smile. I wasn't joking when I told that woman at the desk you were my wife. And I definitely wasn't joking when we were inside that room just now."

"Jungkook, please stop," you sobbed out, a sudden wave of heavy panic and grief hitting your chest. A single, hot tear ran down your cold cheek. "You don't understand. I just broke up with someone two days ago! My brain is completely broken right now. I am a total mess. I am lonely, and my pride hurts, and everything hurts. I am just projecting these weird feelings onto you because you are here, because you are safe—"

"I don't care about him," Jungkook cut you off. His voice was not angry, but it had a fierce, heavy certainty that made your words completely drop to the floor. He squeezed your waist slightly, his thumb moving gently against your hip. "I told you, sweets. That guy was a time pass. You didn't love him. You never looked at him the way a person looks at someone they actually want to keep. You are crying because you hate being rejected, not because you miss him."

You stared at him, your lips parted, your mind completely stunned by how well he knew you.

"The only reason I stayed back and let you date him for months without saying a single word was because I was a coward," Jungkook whispered, his dark eyes dropping to your mouth for a second before snapping back up to yours. "I was terrified that if I told you the truth, if I told you that I love you, you’d get scared. I thought you would run away from me, and the thought of losing you completely was something I could not survive."

He took another deep, shaky breath. His big shoulders dropped as if he was finally letting go of a massive secret he had carried for years.

"But then I had to sit in my apartment and listen to you sob at two in the morning over a guy who didn't even care about you," he murmured, his voice cracking with real pain. "I had to watch you ruin your own happiness over a relationship that was just a boring habit. It almost drove me crazy, sweets. I can't do it anymore. I can't keep standing here pretending that you're just my buddy. I haven't looked at you like a friend in three years."

The words hit you like a physical blow to the chest.

Three years.

While you were just living your life, going on boring dates, and staying in a relationship out of pure habit, Jungkook had been standing right next to you, holding his breath, guarding his heart, and waiting for you to see him. Every single memory you had with him over the last few years—the late-night drives, the way he always brought you your favorite snacks, the way he would drop everything to come fix things in your apartment—suddenly felt completely different.

It was never just "best friend" behavior. It was real, deep, and unconditional love.

But instead of feeling happy, a massive wave of anxiety washed over you. You felt sick to your stomach. It felt too heavy. You were raw from a breakup, your life was upside down, and now your best friend—the only anchor you had left—was changing all the rules.

"Jungkook, I can't," you whispered, more tears blurring your eyes. You felt so small beneath his steady gaze. You shook your head, pulling your hands back to your own chest. "It’s too much. I'm too messed up right now. I don't know what I feel. I don't know if I'm just lonely or if I'm losing my mind. I can't give you an answer. I can't promise you anything. If I ruin this, if I ruin us, I will have nobody left."

You covered your face with your hands, your shoulders shaking as you let out a real, heavy sob. The fear in your chest was completely crushing you. You were so terrified of losing his friendship that the thought of romance felt like a dangerous trap.

Seeing your complete panic and distress, the intense look in Jungkook's eyes instantly melted away. The large, muscular guy who looked so intimidating a second ago suddenly looked incredibly soft and gentle. He realized he was pushing you too hard when you were already broken.

He immediately let go of your waist. He did not pull away completely, but he took away the pressure. He raised his large hands and gently, carefully pulled your wrists away from your face. His touch was so light, like he was handling fragile glass.

"Hey, hey. Look at me, sweets. Breathe," he murmured softly, his voice full of total warmth and comfort. He shifted closer, leaning his head down until his forehead was resting gently against yours again. He closed his eyes, letting you feel the steady, warm rhythm of his breath. "Look at me. I'm sorry. I pushed too hard."

You stayed frozen, your forehead pressed against his, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"I know your head is spinning," Jungkook whispered into the tiny space between your faces. He took one of his large hands and gently rubbed the back of your head, soothing you. "I know you just went through a breakup and you are scared. I know you're worried about ruining what we have. Hear me clearly, okay? You don't have to give me an answer tonight. You don't have to figure anything out."

He opened his eyes, staring directly into yours from inches away. His gaze was completely patient, with zero pressure.

"I don't need you to be perfect, and I don't need you to magically fall into my arms right now," he said softly, his voice ringing with absolute honesty. "I just need you to be yourself. Take all the time you need. If you need to cry about that idiot for another week, cry. If you need to just be confused, be confused. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve waited three years, sweets. I can wait a little longer."

You let out a long, shaky breath, the heavy panic in your chest slowly starting to ease. You let your head slide down from his forehead until it rested against his broad, warm shoulder. The tight, painful knot of anxiety and loneliness that had been sitting in your chest finally started to relax.

He was not forcing you to choose. He was not giving you an ultimatum. Even when he confessed his deepest feelings, his main priority was still making sure you were okay.

Jungkook let out a massive, long sigh of pure relief when he felt you relax against him. His large arms moved securely around your back, pulling your body completely against his chest. He did not hold you tight enough to scare you, but he held you close enough to let you know he was there. He rested his chin gently on top of your messy hair while the waves crashed loudly against the cliffs below.

You still did not know what the future held. You were still confused, still a bit sad, and still terrified of the new feelings blooming in your chest. But looking out into the dark, moonlit night, completely wrapped in his safe warmth, you realized you did not have to have it all figured out today. Jungkook was going to hold you until you did.

.,.

The blinding golden light of the morning sun cut straight through the floor-to-ceiling glass doors of the balcony, hitting your face and waking you up. You winced, shifting your face deeper into the pillow to escape the bright glare. Your eyes felt incredibly heavy, a bit dry and swollen from the heavy crying session on the balcony the night before.

For a few peaceful seconds, your brain was completely blank. You just felt the incredible softness of the hotel sheets and the heavy, comforting warmth of the massive king bed.

But then, the memories of the previous night came rushing back like a tidal wave, slamming straight into your chest.

Jungkook's hands on your waist. The rough, low whisper of his voice. The confession. Three years.

Your eyes snapped wide open. Your heart gave a violent, sudden thud against your ribs. You turned your head so fast your neck cracked, looking at the space right next to you on the mattress.

It was empty.

The white comforter on his side of the bed was messy and tossed aside, the spot long since cooled down. The fortress of pillows you had neatly stacked down the center of the mattress was completely destroyed, scattered across the floor like the remains of a battlefield.

A sudden, sharp wave of anxiety hit your stomach. Did he leave? Was it too awkward? Did he regret saying all of those things? You scrambled out of the bed, your legs tangling in the sheets for a second as you stood up. You were still wearing his massive black hoodie, the fabric smelling entirely like him.

"Jungkook?" you called out, your voice sounding rough and raspy from sleep.

The heavy bathroom door swung open instantly.

Jungkook stepped out into the bright bedroom, a cloud of warm, minty steam billowing out behind him. He had clearly just brushed his teeth and washed his face. He was wearing his gray sweatpants and a fresh, plain black t-shirt. His dark hair was slightly damp, sticking to his forehead in messy, boyish curls.

The second his dark eyes locked onto you, he froze right by the door frame.

The air in the room instantly grew thick and quiet. The easy, brainless routine of your old friendship felt like it was hanging by a thread. You stood by the edge of the bed, your fingers nervously pulling at the long sleeves of his hoodie, your mind racing a million miles an hour. You didn't know how to look at him. You didn't know if you should mention the balcony, or if you should pretend it was all a dream.

Jungkook analyzed your tense, rigid posture, his eyes scanning your wide, anxious eyes. A tiny, incredibly gentle look softened his sharp features. He didn't look awkward, and he didn't look regretful. He just looked patient.

He took three slow, heavy steps toward you, stopping just a few feet away so he wouldn't crowd you. He raised a hand, scratching the back of his neck, and let out a small, familiar high-pitched giggle to break the heavy silence.

"Morning, sweets," he said softly. His voice had that rough, sleepy gravel to it. "You look like you just saw a ghost. Or worse, you look like you think I’m about to force you to eat more radioactive sausages."

A tiny, involuntary laugh snorted out of your nose before you could stop it. The thick, suffocating tension in your chest cracked just a little bit, letting you breathe.

"I'm just... I'm a bit tired," you mumbled, looking down at your bare feet on the carpet. "I didn't think you'd be up so early."

"Couldn't sleep much," Jungkook admitted honestly. He didn't lie to make it easy. He stepped a tiny bit closer, his large shadow falling over you. He reached out, his warm fingers gently tapping the top of your head. "Hey. Look at me."

You slowly raised your eyes, meeting his clear, steady gaze.

"Remember what I told you last night before we went to sleep?" he asked, his tone incredibly grounded. "No pressure. Nothing changes unless you want it to. I'm still just Jungkook. I'm still the guy who is going to eat all your snacks and drive you across the country. You don't need to be weird around me."

You looked at his familiar, comforting face, and the lingering panic in your stomach finally dissolved into dust. He was giving you exactly what he promised: space to just breathe and be yourself.

"Okay," you whispered, a genuine, small smile touching your lips. "Okay."

"Good," Jungkook beamed, his massive bunny-toothed grin returning in full force, completely changing the energy of the room back to bright sunshine. "Because I ordered breakfast, and if you don't hurry up and wash your face, I am going to eat every single strip of bacon on that cart. I mean it. I’m already eyeing the plate."

An hour later, you were both back in the car, leaving the luxury hotel behind and hitting the coastal highway once again. The sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue, and the ocean sparkled like diamonds to your right.

The dynamic inside the car felt different now. The thick, heavy angst of the night before had settled into a quiet, warm hum. It wasn't the old platonic friendship, but it wasn't a rushed romance either. It was a comfortable middle ground.

Jungkook was driving with one hand on the wheel, his left arm resting on the open window frame, letting the warm summer breeze ruffle his hair. He had a playlist of soft, classic rock music playing at a reasonable volume—a compromise he made so you wouldn't complain about his 2012 girl-pop anthems.

You sat in the passenger seat, your legs curled up under you, staring at his profile. Your mind was wandering, processing everything he had said.

Three years.

You thought back to last summer, when you had first started talking to your ex. You remembered telling Jungkook about the first date. You remembered how Jungkook had gone strangely quiet for a few days, throwing himself into his gym workouts until his knuckles were raw. At the time, you thought he was just busy with work. Now, the memory made your heart ache with a deep, bittersweet pain. He had been suffering in silence, watching you walk into a relationship that wasn't even deep or real, just to keep you in his life.

"If you stare at me any harder, you're going to burn a hole right through my cheek," Jungkook said suddenly, not taking his eyes off the road but a smug, handsome smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

You jumped slightly, your cheeks instantly turning a light shade of pink. "I wasn't staring at you. Don't flatter yourself, Jeon."

"You were totally staring," he chuckled, his voice rich and happy. "It's fine. I don't blame you. The lighting today really highlights my jawline. I look like a model in this rearview mirror."

"You look like a giant dork," you rolled your eyes, grabbing a handful of sour gummy worms from the convenience store bag and tossing one directly at his shoulder.

He caught the candy with his right hand, tossing it into his mouth with a laugh. "Hey, watch the cargo! This is fuel for the captain."

As the hours passed, you noticed that while Jungkook was keeping his promise of not pushing you for answers, his behavior had subtly changed. He wasn't hiding his feelings anymore. The small boundaries he used to maintain were completely gone.

When you stopped at a scenic overlook to see the massive cliffs cutting into the ocean, the path was steep and covered in loose gravel. In the past, he would have just walked ahead, teasing you for being slow. But today, the second your sneaker slipped slightly on a rock, Jungkook’s large, warm hand was there.

He didn't just stabilize you; he locked his long fingers securely with yours, his grip firm and burning hot against your skin.

"The ground is messy here. Hold on," he said casually, his voice steady as he guided you down the path.

Your heart gave a massive, violent thud against your ribs. Your fingers felt incredibly small tangled up in his large, calloused hand. You looked down at your joined hands, your breath catching. You waited for him to let go once you reached the flat wooden viewing deck, but he didn't. He kept his fingers loosely, comfortably intertwined with yours as you both stood by the wooden railing, looking out at the endless blue horizon.

It felt entirely natural, yet completely terrifying. It felt like a glimpse into a reality where you were completely taken care of, completely valued.

You glanced up at him. Jungkook was looking out at the water, the bright sun highlighting the strong bridge of his nose and his sharp jaw. He wasn't looking at you to see your reaction. He was just holding your hand because he wanted to, because he finally could.

"My ex hated stops like this," you whispered quietly, the thought slipping out of your mouth before you could stop it. The sorrow of the past relationship was still lingering like a faint shadow, a habit you were trying to break. "He always said if we stop every thirty miles, we'll never make it to the destination on time. He hated wasting minutes."

Jungkook’s grip on your hand tightened just a fraction, a reassuring, heavy squeeze. He didn't turn his head, but his voice dropped into that low, serious register that made your soul quiet down.

"The destination doesn't matter if you're rushing through the whole journey, sweets," he said softly. "The whole point of a road trip is to look at the views. If a guy is too busy looking at his watch to enjoy standing next to you at a place like this... he’s missing the entire point of living."

You stared at his profile, your eyes widening slightly as his words cut straight through your lingering self-doubt. The realization hit you with a massive, undeniable weight. Your ex hadn't just been a "time pass"—he had been a completely wrong fit. You had been trying to force your vibrant, messy life into a tiny, rigid box for eight months. And right next to you, the entire time, was a boy who was willing to stop at every single scenic overlook just to hold your hand and watch the wind blow through your hair.

The fear of ruining the friendship was still there, a tiny, nervous flutter in your stomach. But looking at your joined hands, the warmth spreading up your arm, you felt a new, quiet feeling starting to bloom. It was a small spark of hope.

By the time the afternoon began to fade into a soft, hazy orange sunset, you arrived at the final destination of the road trip: a sleepy, beautiful beach town famous for its outdoor night markets and boardwalks.

The hotel this time was a small, cozy motel right on the beach front. And thankfully, the booking system worked perfectly. You had a room with two separate queen-sized beds, separated by a wide, safe nightstand.

"See? No single-bed drama tonight," you joked, throwing your small backpack onto the bed closest to the window. "You're safe from my blanket-stealing crimes."

Jungkook dropped his heavy black duffel bag onto the opposite bed, leaning his hips against the mattress as he looked over at you. The golden light of the sunset filtered through the window blinds, casting long amber stripes across his face.

"Honestly? I'm kind of disappointed," he teased, a playful, wicked glint in his dark eyes. "The pillow fortress from last night had character. It was an excellent defensive structure."

"You are ridiculous," you laughed, grabbing a fresh change of clothes from your suitcase. "I'm going to change, and then we are going to that boardwalk market. I want fried food and I want it now."

"Your wish is my command, sweets," he chuckled, bowing dramatically as you walked into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, you emerged wearing a simple white sundress and denim jacket, your hair tied up into a loose, messy bun. Jungkook had changed into a clean, oversized vintage t-shirt and dark shorts. He looked completely relaxed, entirely handsome, and totally ready to cause chaos at the night market.

The boardwalk was alive with energy. Bright neon lights from the game booths reflected off the dark ocean water, and the air was thick with the delicious, mouth-watering smell of fried funnel cakes, hot churros, and grilled skewers. Music from the old carousel echoed through the crowd, mixed with the loud laughter of families and couples walking along the wooden planks.

"Alright, first stop," Jungkook declared, grabbing your wrist and dragging you straight toward a stall with a giant sign that read Fried Everything. "We are getting the giant funnel cake with extra powdered sugar. No arguments."

"I would never argue against sugar, Jeon," you said, matching his fast pace.

You spent the next hour walking through the crowds, completely stuffing your faces with junk food. Jungkook ended up getting powdered sugar all over the front of his black t-shirt within two minutes, which led to you standing in the middle of the boardwalk, giggling uncontrollably as you used a wet napkin to wipe his chest down while he whined about his ruined style.

As you wiped the white powder away, your hand brushed against the firm, warm muscle of his chest, right over his beating heart. You froze for a split second, your eyes lifting to meet his. Jungkook was looking down at you, his breathing a little shallow, his dark eyes intensely focused on your hands against his shirt.

The bustling noise of the night market seemed to blur away for that tiny second, leaving just the heavy, magnetic heat between you. You quickly pulled your hand back, clearing your throat nervously as you tossed the napkin into a nearby bin.

"There. You're clean," you whispered, your heart doing that familiar, frantic dance.

"Thanks," he murmured, his voice low.

To break the sudden, thick tension, Jungkook quickly pointed a finger at a massive game booth down the boardwalk. The booth was filled with giant, oversized stuffed animals, and a loud announcer was challenging people to hit a target with a baseball.

"Look at that giant purple plush bunny," Jungkook said, his eyes narrowing like a professional athlete entering an arena. "It looks exactly like me. I need to win it for you."

"Jungkook, those games are completely rigged," you laughed, trying to pull him back. "The balls are weighted, and the targets are tiny. You're just going to waste your money."

"Are you doubting my athletic abilities?" He gasped dramatically, slapping a hand over his heart. "Excuse me? I have perfect aim. Watch and learn, sweets."

He marched straight up to the booth, pulling out his wallet and paying the announcer for three throws. A small crowd of teenagers stopped to watch, noticing how big and focused Jungkook looked as he picked up the first wooden baseball.

He balanced his weight, his broad shoulders flexing beneath his t-shirt as he drew his arm back. With a sudden, lightning-fast motion, he threw the ball.

CRASH.

The ball hit the center target perfectly, the loud sound echoing across the boardwalk. The crowd let out a small cheer. Jungkook didn't even smile; he just picked up the second ball, his expression completely serious, his eyes locked onto the prize. He threw it again.

CRASH.

The second target shattered down. The announcer looked genuinely shocked. By the time Jungkook threw the third ball, hitting the final target dead-center, the entire booth area erupted into loud cheers and applause.

Jungkook finally relaxed, turning his head toward you with a massive, arrogant, and entirely endearing smirk. He puffed his chest out dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows. "Rigged? Please. The targets never stood a chance against the Jeon precision."

The announcer grumbled, reaching up to the high ceiling to pull down the massive, giant purple plush bunny. It was almost as big as you were, incredibly soft and completely ridiculous. He dumped it into Jungkook’s arms.

Jungkook carried the giant bunny over to you, struggling to see over the massive plush head. He shoved the giant toy into your arms, wrapping your hands around the soft fabric.

"Here," he said, his voice instantly softening as he looked down at you. The arrogant game-winner energy vanished, replaced by that quiet, deep warmth that always made your knees weak. "A line of defense for your bed tonight. Since we don't have the pillow fortress anymore."

You gripped the massive, soft bunny against your chest, burying your face in the purple faux fur for a second to hide the massive, completely overwhelmed smile pulling at your lips. The fear, the ghost of your ex-boyfriend—everything was completely losing its grip on you. Standing under the bright neon lights of the boardwalk, holding a giant prize won by the boy who had loved you silently for three years, you realized your heart was no longer breaking.

It was healing. And it was healing fast.

"Thank you, Jungkook," you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes.

Jungkook reached out, his large, warm hand gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering against your cheek for a single, beautiful second. "Anytime, sweets. Anytime."

…

The giant purple plush bunny was entirely too massive. As you both walked away from the noisy game booth, you had to hold the heavy toy with both arms just to keep it from dragging across the sticky wooden planks of the boardwalk. Jungkook walked right beside you, his hands shoved casually into his shorts pockets, a smug and completely satisfied smile resting on his face. Every time a group of teenagers walked past and stared at the ridiculous size of your prize, he would puff his broad chest out just a little bit more.

"You are going to develop a permanent posture problem if you keep walking like that," you teased, nudging his arm with the side of the giant stuffed ear.

"I am walking with the swagger of a champion," Jungkook corrected smoothly, his voice full of rich, bouncy laughter. "Do you know how hard it is to hit three targets in a row with weighted baseballs? The announcer looked like he wanted to cry when he had to hand that bunny over. I basically pulled off a heist."

"You spent fifteen dollars on a toy that probably cost two dollars to make," you retorted, though you couldn't stop the massive, happy smile from taking over your face.

"Money is temporary, sweets. But the glory of winning a giant purple defense system for your bedroom? That is eternal," he chuckled, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at you.

The night market was starting to slow down as the clock moved past eleven. The heavy crowds of families were thinning out, leaving behind mostly young couples walking hand-in-hand beneath the glowing strands of yellow fairy lights. The salty sea breeze was picking up again, bringing the loud, rhythmic sound of the dark waves crashing against the wooden pillars beneath the boardwalk.

At the very end of the pier, towering over the edge of the water, sat the grand finale of the beach town: a massive, old-fashioned Ferris wheel. Its neon lights were a beautiful mix of soft pinks, deep blues, and warm golds, spinning slowly against the dark velvet sky.

Jungkook stopped walking, his eyes tracking the slow rotation of the giant wheel. He turned his head to look at you, his expression softening as the multi-colored lights danced across his sharp jawline.

"We have one more stop before we go back to the motel," he said softly, pointing a finger toward the ticket booth of the ride. "Come on."

"Jungkook, it’s late," you murmured, a sudden, familiar flutter of nervous anxiety hitting your stomach. "And I’m carrying a stuffed animal the size of a refrigerator. We won't even fit in the bucket."

"We will make it fit," he insisted, not taking no for an answer. He reached out, his large, warm hand wrapping firmly around your wrist to gently drag you toward the line.

Five minutes later, you were officially crammed into a small, swinging metal carriage. Jungkook’s prediction had been slightly wrong—the space was incredibly tight. The giant purple bunny had to be stuffed vertically between your knees, its massive plush head completely blocking the view to your left. Because the toy took up more than half the bench, you and Jungkook were forced to sit completely flush against each other on the remaining side.

His muscular thigh was pressed tightly against yours, the heat of his skin burning right through his shorts. His broad shoulder was tucked firmly beneath your own, his large frame completely surrounding you in the small metal car.

A loud, metallic clunk echoed through the air as the ride operator locked the safety bar into place. With a slow, jerky shudder, the Ferris wheel began to lift you up into the night.

As the carriage climbed higher and higher, the noisy sounds of the boardwalk games and the shouting announcers began to fade away into a quiet, distant hum. The view expanded infinitely. To your right, the tiny neon lights of the beach town looked like scattered jewels on black velvet. To your left, the endless, dark ocean stretched out into the horizon, reflecting the bright silver light of the full moon.

You leaned your head slightly against the cold metal mesh of the carriage, letting out a long, quiet breath. The beauty of the view was breathtaking, but your brain was completely unable to focus on it. You were entirely, terrifyingly aware of Jungkook’s breathing right next to you. You could feel the steady, heavy rise and fall of his chest against your shoulder, the faint, comforting scent of his woodsy cologne completely trapped inside the small space.

The carriage suddenly groaned, stopping dead right at the very top of the wheel. You were suspended hundreds of feet in the air, dangling directly over the crashing black waves below.

The silence up here was absolute. The wind blew softly through the open sides of the car, rattling the metal chains above your head.

"Are you scared of heights?" Jungkook’s voice cut through the quiet. It wasn't his loud, teasing voice anymore. It was low, rough, and incredibly gentle, dropping into that serious register that always made your knees feel weak.

You turned your head to look at him. Because of how tightly you were crammed together, his face was only inches from yours. The soft, rotating neon pink light from the wheel lit up his features, catching the dark depth of his eyes and the slight, nervous parted line of his lips. He was staring directly at you, completely ignoring the beautiful ocean view behind your head.

"A little bit," you whispered honestly, your throat feeling suddenly dry. "It feels like we're just dangling in the middle of nowhere."

Jungkook didn't say a word. Instead, he slowly shifted his right hand from his lap. His large, warm fingers slipped down the side of the seat, sliding directly over yours. He didn't just hold your hand loosely this time. He slid his long fingers between yours, locking them together in a tight, heavy grip that felt incredibly secure. His palm was burning hot against your cold skin.

"I’ve got you," he murmured, his dark eyes never leaving your face. "You're not going to fall, sweets. I won't let you."

Your heart gave a violent, massive thud against your ribs. The confusion that had been swirling in your head for the last three days suddenly tightened into a painful, beautiful knot right in the center of your chest.

You looked down at your joined hands resting on top of the purple plush fabric of the toy. His hand was so much larger than yours, his veins showing slightly against the back of his skin, his grip holding you like you were the most precious thing in the entire universe.

"Jungkook," you said softly, your voice trembling a little as the heavy emotion threatened to spill over. "I'm sorry."

Jungkook tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "Sorry for what?"

"For being so messy," you whispered, looking up to meet his eyes through the dim pink light. "For making you drive me across the country while I cried over a guy I didn't even care about. For being so confused and scared right now. You’ve been waiting for three years... and I feel like I'm ruining everything because I don't know how to fix my own head yet."

The heavy silence returned, hanging between you as the wind blew past the carriage.

Jungkook stared at you for a long, unblinking moment. The patience in his eyes was so deep it made your chest ache. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his left hand from the safety bar. He reached across the small space, his large thumb gently pressing against your chin, tilting your face just a fraction closer to his. His touch was incredibly soft, completely devoid of his usual clumsy energy.

"Look at me," he commanded softly.

You looked, your eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears.

"You are not ruining anything," Jungkook said, his voice ringing with absolute, unshakable certainty. "I told you last night on the balcony, and I mean it. I don't need you to have a perfect, healed brain right now. I don't need you to give me an anniversary date or a promise. I am here because I want to be here. I am holding your hand because it’s the only place I’ve wanted my hand to be for three years."

He took a deep, heavy breath, his chest brushing slightly against your arm as he leaned in just a millimeter closer.

"The last three days haven't been a burden to me, sweets," he whispered, his gaze dropping to your lips for a single, torturous second before snapping back to your eyes. "Watching you finally realize that you deserve better than a guy who treats you like a chore? Watching you laugh until your stomach hurts on the highway? That is the best thing that has happened to me in years. You are not a mess to me. You are just you."

A single, hot tear finally slipped out of your eye, running down your cheek. Jungkook didn't hesitate. He used the pad of his thumb to gently wipe the moisture away, his skin lingering against your cheekbone, his touch leaving a trail of absolute fire behind.

"So stop apologizing," he murmured, his voice dropping into a rough, raspy register that sent a violent shiver straight down your spine. "Take all the time you need to figure things out. Cry if you need to. Be scared if you need to. But don't you dare think you are ruining us. We are completely fine."

You stared at him, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The lingering memory of your ex-boyfriend, the eight months of that empty, boring relationship out of habit—it completely dissolved into nothingness. It didn't exist anymore. The only reality that mattered was the boy sitting inches from you at the top of the world, holding your hand like a lifeline and offering you a love so deep it completely terrified you.

You didn't know what to say. The fear of ruining the friendship were still humming quietly in the back of your mind, but the sheer emotional safety he was giving you was completely overwhelming the doubt. Slowly, without thinking, you let your head lean sideways, resting your cheek gently against his broad, solid shoulder.

Jungkook stiffened for a fraction of a second, completely caught off guard by your sudden movement. Then, a long, heavy sigh of absolute relief escaped his lips. He shifted his arm, wrapping it securely around your shoulders, pulling you completely against his side as the Ferris wheel finally shuddered and began its slow descent back toward the earth.

He didn't press for more. He didn't try to kiss you. He just held you tight against his chest, his large hand still firmly locked with yours on top of the giant purple bunny.

…

The quiet of the motel room felt completely different from the loud, bright chaos of the boardwalk. When Jungkook clicked the heavy lock of the door into place, the sudden silence was deafening. The only sound was the low, steady hum of the old air conditioning unit beneath the window and the distant, muffled crash of the ocean waves against the sand outside.

The room was basic and cozy, illuminated only by the amber glow of a single streetlamp filtering through the plastic window blinds. Two queen-sized beds stood side-by-side, separated by a wide, dark wooden nightstand that felt like a physical boundary between your old life and whatever was happening now.

You walked over to the bed closest to the window, carefully lifting the massive purple plush bunny and sitting it upright against the headboard. It looked completely ridiculous under the dim light, its giant ears flopping forward as if it were guarding the mattress.

"Well," you said, your voice sounding incredibly small in the quiet room. "The fortress is officially in place."

Jungkook chuckled softly, dropping his heavy black duffel bag onto his own mattress with a dull thud. He stood by the edge of his bed, hands resting on his hips as his dark eyes locked onto you. The playful, confident guy from the boardwalk was gone, replaced by the quiet, intensely patient man from the Ferris wheel.

"I'm going to change into something comfortable. Don't eat all the sour worms while I'm gone."

"No promises, sweets," he teased, though his eyes stayed fixed on your face until you closed the bathroom door behind you.

Inside the small, brightly lit bathroom, you leaned against the sink and stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were still flushed from the cold sea wind, and your eyes looked bright—no longer heavy with the messy tears of a painful breakup, but wide with a quiet, lingering shock. You touched your fingers to your chin, right where his large, warm thumb had rested just twenty minutes ago at the top of the Ferris wheel.

He loved you. He had loved you for three long years, through every boring date, every casual conversation, and every single time you had complained about your empty relationship. He had stood right next to you, holding his breath, just waiting for you to see him.

You let out a long, shaky breath, quickly changing into a pair of soft gray sweatpants and a loose, oversized t-shirt. By the time you turned off the bathroom light and stepped back into the bedroom, Jungkook had already changed into his favorite soft black sweatpants and was lying flat on his back on his own bed. He had his arms tucked behind his head, his dark eyes staring blankly at the popcorn texture of the ceiling.

The room was completely dark now, saved only by the thin stripes of amber light cutting across the carpet from the window.

You silently crawled under the crisp white sheets of your own bed, pulling the heavy comforter up to your chin. You turned your body onto your side, facing his direction, your eyes adjusting to the shadows.

For a long time, neither of you said a word. The silence stretched out until the ticking of the small digital clock on the nightstand felt like a countdown.

"Sweets?" Jungkook’s voice suddenly broke the quiet. It was barely a whisper, rough and incredibly raw, cutting through the hum of the air conditioner.

"Yeah?" you replied instantly, your heart giving a small, nervous skip.

You saw his silhouette shift in the dark. Jungkook turned his heavy frame onto his side, propping his head up with his right hand, facing you. In the dim light, you could see the dark, serious outline of his features and the glint of the moonlight reflecting in his wide pupils.

"Are you still thinking about him?" he asked quietly. There was no jealousy in his tone, no anger. It was just a question born out of pure, unprotected vulnerability. He sounded entirely human, entirely stripped of his usual confident armor.

You stared at him through the shadows, your fingers tightly gripping the edge of your blanket. You thought about your ex. You tried to find the familiar, sharp ache of rejection that had crushed you just three days ago in your apartment. But when you searched your mind, there was nothing left but an empty, hollow memory. The ghost of that relationship had completely vanished, replaced entirely by the warmth of Jungkook’s large hand holding yours against the dark ocean sky.

"No," you whispered honestly, the truth feeling like a massive weight lifting off your chest. "I'm not thinking about him at all. I haven't thought about him since we got on the highway today."

Jungkook let out a long, slow breath in the dark, his broad shoulders visibly relaxing against the mattress. "Good. Because he didn't deserve a single one of your thoughts anyway."

A small, bittersweet ache filled your chest as you watched him. "Jungkook... how did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Three years," you murmured, your voice cracking slightly with a sudden wave of heavy emotion. "How did you sit across from me at dinner, or watch movies with me on my couch, while I was completely blind? How did you manage to just stay my friend without letting it ruin you?"

Jungkook was quiet for a long, agonizing minute. The only sound was the distant crash of the waves outside. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, rougher, and thick with an honesty that made your throat tighten.

"It was hard," he confessed softly, his eyes never leaving yours through the dark space between the beds. "The first few months were the worst. Every time you talked about a guy you met at a coffee shop, or every time you got dressed up to go on a first date, I used to go back to my apartment and just stare at my phone, hating myself for being too scared to speak up."

He shifted slightly, his long fingers mindlessly tracing a pattern against his own pillowcase.

"But then I realized something," he whispered, his tone dropping into a deeply tender register. "Being just your friend, being the guy who got to hear your voice at two in the morning when you couldn't sleep, or the guy who got to make you laugh when you had a bad day at work... that was still better than anything else in my life. I was terrified that if I pushed you, if I told you that I wanted to hold you and kiss you, you'd get uncomfortable. You'd pull away. And the idea of a world where you don't talk to me? That was a thousand times worse than the pain of keeping it a secret."

The weight of his devotion hit you like a physical wave. Tears of pure, overwhelming emotion welled up in your eyes, blurring the sight of his silhouette in the dark. While you had been settling for a casual, empty relationship out of pure habit, Jungkook had been quietly, fiercely protecting your bond, placing your comfort entirely above his own heart.

"I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner," you choked out, a single tear escaping and dampening your pillow. "I'm sorry I was so stupid."

"Hey," Jungkook murmured instantly, his tone shifting into that urgent, protective warmth. He sat up completely, swinging his long legs over the edge of his bed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring across the wide gap at you. "Don't say that. I didn't tell you all of this to make you feel guilty, sweets. I told you because I wanted you to understand that you are worth the wait. Every single second of it."

You stared up at him from your pillow, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The physical distance between the two queen beds suddenly felt entirely too far. The old rules of your friendship, the safe boundaries you had lived behind for years, felt like paper walls ready to burn down. You didn't want the wide nightstand separating you tonight. You didn't want to be alone with the lingering anxiety of the past. You just wanted his warmth. You wanted his safety.

Slowly, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs, you lifted the heavy comforter and sat up.

Jungkook froze, his dark eyes tracking your movements in the shadows as you slid out from beneath your sheets. Your bare feet hit the cold carpet. Without saying a word, you walked across the narrow space separating the two beds, stopping right in front of him.

He looked up at you, his chest rising and falling heavily, his sharp jaw tight with a sudden, intense tension. He didn't move, completely holding his breath as if he were terrified that any sudden gesture would scare you away.

"Can I..." your voice trembled, your hand nervously gesturing to the empty space on his mattress. "Can I just stay here tonight? I don't want to be on that side of the room."

Jungkook didn't hesitate for even a millisecond. He instantly shifted his large body backward, pulling his blankets aside to create a wide, welcoming space right next to him. "Come here," he whispered, his voice incredibly rough.

You crawled onto his bed, the sheets smelling intensely of his familiar, woodsy cologne. You lay down on your side, curling your knees up slightly. Jungkook moved carefully, lying down right beside you. He didn't force a heavy embrace, and he didn't try to pull you into a passionate hold. True to his promise, he gave you the space to just be yourself.

Instead, he reached out in the dark, his large, warm hand finding yours beneath the blanket. He slid his long fingers between yours, locking them securely in that same heavy, burning grip from the Ferris wheel. He pulled your joined hands up, resting them right against the center of his chest, right over the steady, rapid thumping of his heart.

He leaned his forehead forward, resting it gently against the top of your head, his warm breath fanning through your messy hair.

"I've got you," he murmured softly into the dark room, his grip on your hand tightening with a reassuring, heavy squeeze. "Just close your eyes, sweets. I'm right here. No pressure, remember? We have all the time in the world."

You closed your eyes, letting out a long, shaky sigh as the very last remnants of your post-breakup loneliness completely dissolved into the mattress. Listening to the heavy, rhythmic beat of his heart beneath your fingers, completely surrounded by his protective warmth, the fear of the future finally went quiet. You didn't know what tomorrow would look like, and you didn't know how long it would take to fix your scrambled thoughts, but as you drifted off to sleep in the quiet beach motel, you knew one thing for certain.

The road trip wasn't an escape anymore. It was the moment you finally came home.

…

The soft, rhythmic rumble of the ocean waves outside the window was the first thing that drifted into your consciousness. It was followed closely by a heavy, radiating warmth that completely enveloped your entire body. As your eyes slowly blinked open against the dim morning light filtering through the plastic blinds, you didn't feel the cold, empty space of a lonely hotel bed.

Instead, you were completely anchored.

You were tucked firmly against Jungkook’s broad chest. His left arm was wrapped securely around your waist, his large palm resting flat against your lower back, holding you flush against his solid frame. Your own hand was still resting over his heart, your fingers loosely tangled in the soft cotton of his black t-shirt. He had one of his long legs hooked over yours, completely trapping you in a lazy, heavy embrace that felt entirely unbreakable.

You stayed perfectly still, your breath catching in your throat as the realization of where you were settled in.

Slowly, carefully, you tilted your head back to look at him.

Jungkook was already awake. He was propped up slightly against his pillow, his dark hair a messy, wild halo of bedhead curls sticking up in every direction. The soft, grayish light of the early morning highlighted the relaxed lines of his face, making him look incredibly young and soft. He wasn't looking at the window or his phone. He was just staring down at you, his dark eyes full of a quiet, unblinking adoration that made your stomach do a sudden, violent flip.

The second he noticed you moving, a tiny, incredibly tender smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His voice, when he spoke, was a deep, gravelly morning rasp that vibrated directly against your chest.

"Morning, sweets," he whispered softly, his large hand on your back giving you a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "You sleep okay?"

"Yeah," you murmured, your voice sounding small and sleepy. You looked down at his chest, your cheeks warming up. "How long have you been awake?"

"About an hour," he admitted with a tiny, boyish giggle. He didn't move his arm, keeping you locked against him. "My arm went completely numb twenty minutes ago, but you looked so peaceful I didn't want to move. I was ready to let it fall off for the cause."

A genuine laugh spilled out of your mouth, the lingering angst of waking up in his bed instantly evaporating. "You are such a dork, Jeon. You should have just pushed me off."

"Never," he murmured, his tone suddenly dropping into that low, serious register that made your heart pound. He raised his right hand, his long fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from your eyes. His touch was incredibly light, his thumb lingering against your temple. "I could stay right here for a week."

You stared at him, your breath shallow, the sheer emotional weight of his presence completely overwhelming your lingering doubts. For eight months, you had woken up next to a man who felt like a stranger, a relationship that felt like a daily obligation. But here, in a cheap beach motel room with your childhood best friend, you felt entirely seen, entirely valued, and completely safe.

"Jungkook," you said softly, your fingers tightening slightly against his shirt. "Let's go to the beach. Before we have to pack up the car."

His eyes softened, a warm, supportive look taking over his face. "Whatever you want, sweets. Let's go."

…

You walked slowly along the water's edge, your sneakers sinking slightly into the wet sand. You were wearing his massive black hoodie again over your clothes, the long sleeves pulled down past your knuckles to protect your hands from the freezing wind.

Jungkook walked right beside you, his hands shoved deep into his shorts pockets, his broad shoulders hunched slightly against the breeze. He was keeping a respectful foot of space between your shoulders, true to his promise of letting you set the pace.

"It’s beautiful out here," you whispered, watching a white seagull glide low over the water.

"Yeah, it is," Jungkook said. But when you glanced over at him, he wasn't looking at the ocean. He was looking at you, his expression quiet and thoughtful.

A sudden, sharp wave of reality hit your chest, bringing back a faint hint of the familiar angst. The road trip was ending today. The beautiful escape of the highway, the luxury hotel rooms, and the neon lights of the boardwalk were over. By this afternoon, you would be driving back into the city, back to your actual lives, your apartments, and the regular routine.

"Jungkook," you started, your voice dropping as you stopped walking. You turned to face him, the wind pulling strands of hair across your face. "What happens when we go back?"

Jungkook stopped immediately, shifting his large body so he was blocking the harsh wind from hitting you directly. He looked down at you, his brow furrowing slightly in concern. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... when we get back to the city," you mumbled, looking down at your sneakers in the sand. "We have to go back to our normal lives. People are going to ask about the breakup. My ex might try to call me to get his things. And... I don't want us to become weird. I don't want to lose the easy way we used to talk just because everything is shifting."

The silence stretched between you, heavy with the fear of the future. You were terrified that once the magic of the road trip faded, the reality of changing a three-year friendship would become too heavy to handle.

Jungkook didn't answer right away. He slowly stepped closer, closing the distance between you until he was standing just inches away. He reached out, his large, warm hands coming up to gently grab the sides of your hood, pulling the thick black fabric securely around your ears to shield you from the cold breeze.

"Look at me, sweets," he commanded softly, his dark eyes completely locking onto yours with an absolute, unshakable intensity.

You raised your head, your eyes wide and a little glassy.

"Nothing is going to change unless you want it to," Jungkook said, his voice ringing with a deep, grounded certainty. "When we get back, I’m still going to be the guy who comes over at midnight to fix your broken kitchen cabinet. I’m still the guy who is going to text you stupid memes during your lunch break. The city doesn't change who we are."

He squeezed the fabric of your hood gently, his thumbs resting against the sides of your jawline.

"If you need me to just be your best friend for the next month while you sort through your brain, I will be your best friend," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly with a raw, unprotected vulnerability.

"If you need me to take you out on a proper, real date, I will do that too. I've spent three years guarding my heart around you, sweets. I am not going to run away or get weird just because we crossed the city limits. I am entirely yours. In the motel room, on the highway, or back in our apartments. You don't have to carry the pressure of fixing everything today."

The honesty in his words cut straight through the very last layer of your self-doubt. The lingering anxiety of the past relationship, the fear of making a mistake, the ghost of your old life—it all completely collapsed under the weight of his unconditional devotion. He wasn't asking you to be perfect. He was just asking you to let him hold you.

A sudden, fierce wave of clarity washed over you. You didn't want to wait anymore. You didn't want to let the fear of tomorrow ruin the beautiful, undeniable truth of what was standing right in front of you.

Slowly, your hands came out from the long sleeves of his hoodie. Your fingers were trembling slightly, but your movement was entirely deliberate. You reached up, your hands pressing against his broad, solid chest, feeling the rapid, frantic thumping of his heart beneath his t-shirt.

Jungkook completely froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes widening in total shock as you stepped even closer, your shoes touching his.

"Jungkook," you whispered, your voice thick with a beautiful, heavy emotion as you looked straight into his dark eyes. "I don't want to wait a month."

Before he could even process your words, you stood up on your tiptoes. You closed the tiny remaining gap between your faces, leaning up until your lips gently, softly pressed against his.

The touch was light, tentative, and full of a deep, lingering angst—a silent question asked after three years of waiting. His lips were incredibly soft, warm against the chilly morning air, smelling faintly of the minty toothpaste from the motel room.

For a split second, Jungkook stayed completely rigid, his mind entirely blown, as if he couldn't believe this was actually happening. But then, a low, ragged groan escaped his throat.

The hesitation vanished instantly.

His large hands dropped from your hood, sliding down to wrap fiercely around your waist. He lifted you slightly off your feet, pulling your body completely against his broad frame with a sudden, desperate strength. He leaned his head down, deepening the kiss with a raw, burning intensity that left you completely breathless. It wasn't a rushed or aggressive touch; it was a deeply passionate, emotional release of three years of unspoken love, poured entirely into the quiet morning air.

Your hands slid up his chest, wrapping securely around the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his messy, damp curls as you melted completely into his warmth.

When he finally pulled back, just a fraction of an inch, his forehead rested gently against yours. His breathing was heavy and ragged, his large hands still gripping your waist tightly as if he were terrified you would disappear if he let go. A massive, breathless smile broke across his handsome face, his dark eyes shining with a pure, unadulterated happiness that completely lit up the entire beach.

"Sweets," he whispered against your lips, his voice rough and completely dazed. "If this is a dream, do not wake me up. I mean it. I will sleep forever."

You let out a soft, happy laugh, burying your face into the warm crook of his neck, your arms wrapping securely around his broad shoulders.

You had finally found your destination.

…

The steady, quiet rhythm of a late-night June rain was the only sound left in the apartment. Outside the large window, the city was just a blurry mix of red, yellow, and blue lights reflecting on the wet streets far below. The cars moved slowly through the puddles, their headlights cutting through the dark gray fog. Inside, your living room felt like a completely different world. It was warm, cozy, and quiet, lit only by the soft amber glow of a single ceramic floor lamp standing in the corner.

A full month had passed since the road trip had ended. The sudden, chaotic explosion of your old breakup had finally settled into distant history. The boxes of your ex-boyfriend's things were gone, the keys had been handed back, and the tears had completely dried up. You had both fallen back into your regular city routines. You spent your days focusing on your work, organizing your schedules, and managing your independent business projects. Jungkook went right back to his high-volume photography and graphic design work, his calendar packed with studio shoots and editing sessions.

But absolutely nothing about the space between you two felt regular anymore.

You were sitting flat on the thick, plush rug in the center of the room, your back resting against the bottom base of the couch. Spread out all around your legs was a large, messy binder filled with business papers, menu printouts, and cost spreadsheets. Your fingers traced the edge of a white paper, trying to read the lines of text, but your mind was not processing a single word or number. Every single ounce of your focus was dialed entirely into the heavy, solid presence of the boy sitting right above you on the cushions.

Jungkook was stretched out lazily across the sofa, his long legs taking up almost the entire length of the cushions. He was wearing an old, faded gray tank top that showed off the heavy, defined muscles of his shoulders and the intricate, dark patterns of the tattoo sleeve wrapping all the way down his right arm. His laptop rested heavily on his muscular thighs, and his large fingers clicked the trackpad every now and then, slowly moving through a batch of street photographs he had taken earlier that week.

For twenty long minutes, neither of you had said a single word.

In the past, a long silence like this would have been entirely brainless and comfortable. You would have been scrolling through social media on your phone, he would have been playing a video game on his console, and the air in the room would have felt light and easy. You wouldn't have thought twice about sitting together without talking. But tonight, the silence felt thick. It felt like a physical weight pressing down on the air, heavy with a new, simmering undercurrent of raw, unhurried tension that seemed to grow stronger with every single tick of the wall clock.

You shifted your position on the floor, trying to ease the sudden tightness in your chest. As you moved your legs under the binder, your shoulder accidentally brushed against the hard, warm line of his shin resting right against the edge of the couch cushions.

Jungkook did not move his leg away. In fact, the moment your skin made contact with his, his fingers stopped clicking the mouse completely. The small tapping sound vanished, making the room feel even quieter than before.

Slowly, deliberately, Jungkook lowered his laptop screen by a fraction of an inch. His dark, heavy eyes slid down from the monitor, tracking across the top of your head before locking onto the side of your face. He did not say anything at first. He just watched you through the dim light, his jawline sharp and tight, his breathing deep, slow, and steady.

"You've been rewriting that exact same line on your menu for ten minutes, sweets," he said softly. His voice was a low, sleepy gravel that vibrated right through the couch cushions against your back, sending a sudden, sharp shiver straight down your spine.

"I have not," you muttered quickly, stubbornly keeping your eyes fixed on the paper in front of you, even though your heart rate was already starting to speed up. "I am checking the prices and verifying the math. Some of us actually have to work for a living instead of just playing with photo filters and sliders all day."

A low, deep rumble of a laugh vibrated in his broad chest. "Photo filters? Is that seriously what you think I do all day in the studio?"

"Basically," you teased, finally turning your head slightly to look up at him through your eyelashes. You were trying hard to bring back the safe, funny armor of your old friendly bickering, desperately wanting to break the heavy mood. "You just make the pretty pictures look a little more blue or a little more yellow. A child could do it, Jeon."

Jungkook’s lips parted into a slow, dangerously handsome smirk. He shifted his weight, closing his laptop with a soft click and setting it down on the opposite end of the couch. He leaned his forearms onto his bare knees, bending his large upper body forward until his face was only a foot away from yours, looking down at you from over the edge of the velvet cushions.

"A child, huh?" he murmured, his dark eyes glinting with a playful, wicked challenge in the amber lamplight. "If my job is so easy, why don't you crawl up here and finish editing the next batch for me? I'll even let you wear the captain's hat and sit in the big chair."

"I am entirely too busy managing a real commercial enterprise, Jungkook," you said, tossing your plastic pen onto the binder with a dramatic, loud sigh, though your eyes wandered instinctively to the clean, sharp line of his collarbone. "I don't have time to play around with your little art projects."

"Right. A real enterprise," he teased back, his voice dropping into a lower, softer register as his gaze dropped down to your lips for a brief, fleeting second before snapping right back to your eyes. "Which is exactly why you've been holding that pen upside down for the last five minutes."

Your face instantly flushed a brilliant, hot shade of pink. You quickly looked down at your hand, realizing with absolute horror that he was entirely correct—the plastic cap of the pen was resting firmly against your thumb while the actual ink point was aimed uselessly at the ceiling.

"It's a new memory technique," you stammered out, scrambling to flip the pen around in your fingers while forcing a loud, defensive laugh to cover your embarrassment. "It stimulates the brain cells. You wouldn't know anything about it because your brain is entirely fueled by video games, bad movies, and energy drinks."

Jungkook let out another quiet, rich laugh, the sound incredibly warm and intimate in the quiet apartment. But instead of pushing the joke any further, he slowly slid off the edge of the couch. He did not rush his movements at all. He moved with a slow, agonizingly deliberate grace, his bare feet making zero sound on the soft rug as he dropped down onto his knees right on the floor beside you.

Suddenly, the safe distance between your bodies shrunk down to a matter of inches.

The physical heat radiating off his chest was shocking, cutting straight through the cool draft of the rainy June night. He sat back on his heels, resting one of his large, calloused hands flat on the floor right behind your lower back, effectively blocking you in from behind. He smelled entirely like his clean cedarwood body wash, laundry detergent, and the faint trace of mint gum.

"Alright, show me the memory technique then," he murmured, his dark eyes locked onto yours, completely unblinking. He reached out with his left hand, his long fingers moving slowly across the small space between you until his knuckles lightly, barely brushed against the soft fabric of your gray sleeve. "Explain the numbers to me, sweets. I'm all ears."

Your breath completely caught in your throat. The playful, bickering armor you had built up over three years of friendship felt incredibly thin right now. It was easy to joke around and banter when he was sitting on the other side of the room, but with him kneeling right next to you on the floor, his broad shoulders completely blocking out the rest of your living room, the flirty energy felt heavy. It felt entirely too real.

"The... the classic boxes of four are starting at twelve dollars," you whispered, your voice sounding remarkably breathy and small compared to the steady roar of the rain outside. You looked down at the binder, your heart slamming wildly against your ribs as you pointed a trembling finger at a row of numbers. "And then there’s a three-dollar difference for the specialty collections. Like the Biscoff dream variety or the Nutella dream variety."

"Three dollars," Jungkook repeated softly. He wasn't looking at the paper or the numbers at all. He was tracing the sharp line of your jaw with his eyes, his gaze heavy, dark, and completely focused on you. "Sounds like a solid strategy, sweets."

"It is," you muttered, trying desperately to keep your voice steady and professional. "It keeps the profit margins clean. And it prevents the customers from getting confused by too many random numbers on the ordering sheet."

Jungkook slowly moved his hand from his knee. He did not grab you, and he did not push you into doing anything. Instead, his long, ink-covered fingers slid across the white pages of your binder, his fingertips lightly brushing against the edge of your hand as he reached up to gently touch the corner of the paper you were holding. His skin was burning hot, a massive contrast to your cold, nervous fingers.

"And what about the formatting?" he asked, his voice dropping into a rough, raspy whisper that fanned across the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, causing a violent wave of goosebumps to break out across your arms. He leaned in just a fraction closer, his shoulder tucking right against yours. "The layout looks a little cluttered here. Do you want me to redesign the font and the sheet for you tomorrow before you print it out?"

"I can format a spreadsheet, Jungkook," you whispered back, your eyes darting down to his mouth. His lips were parted slightly, his breathing a little shallow. The sheer, suffocating weight of the unspoken physical tension in the room was becoming completely overwhelming.

"I know you can," he murmured, his thumb slowly, casually stroking the very edge of your notebook page. "But I like helping you. It gives me an easy excuse to sit here like this."

"Like what?" you asked, finally turning your head to face him fully.

The move was a huge mistake. Your faces were so incredibly close now that if either of you leaned forward even an inch, your noses would touch. You could see the tiny mole right beneath his lower lip, the dark, clear depth of his irises, and the intense, serious focus in his expression.

"Like we have absolutely nowhere else to be tonight," Jungkook whispered, his dark eyes dropping down to your mouth, his gaze heavy and completely filled with a quiet, patient hunger that he was no longer trying to hide behind a best-friend smile. "Like I don't have to pretend that I'm looking at the paperwork when I'm actually just looking at you."

The entire apartment went completely, utterly silent. The ticking clock on the wall and the roaring rain outside seemed to completely vanish from your mind, leaving nothing but the thick, magnetic heat stretching between your bodies on the floor.

For the past month, you had both been playing completely nice. You had held hands while walking down the street, he had kissed your cheek when he dropped you off at your door after work, and you had gone on quiet, sweet dinner dates to your favorite local spots. You had both been intentionally moving slow, protecting the delicate transition from friends to something more. You wanted to make sure nothing felt rushed, pressured, or messy after your heavy breakup.

But sitting on the floor of your dark living room, with his large frame completely surrounding you and his scent filling your lungs, the feeling starting to turn into something completely impossible to control.

Your fingers instinctively tightened against the plastic of your pen, your knuckles turning white. "Jungkook... you're... you're doing it again."

"Doing what?" he murmured, his voice dropping into a rough, low rumble that felt entirely too intimate in the dark space. He did not pull back; instead, he tilted his head just a fraction of an inch, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're crowding me," you breathed out, your heart doing a full-scale acrobatic routine against your ribs. "You're using your giant gym shoulders to take up all the oxygen in my living room. I can barely think."

A slow, beautifully wicked smile pulled at the corner of his lips, his eyes crinkling just a tiny bit at the corners. He slowly raised his hand from the binder, his fingers moving through the air with agonizing slowness before he gently, carefully tucked a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His warm fingertips lingered against the sensitive skin of your neck, his touch so light it felt like a whisper against your skin.

"There's plenty of oxygen, sweets," he whispered, his thumb slowly tracing a short, burning line down the side of your neck, his palm resting right against your collarbone. The heat of his hand was intoxicating, making your entire body feel heavy, warm, and weak. "You're just nervous. Because you know exactly what I'm thinking right now."

"I don't have a single clue what goes on in that chaotic brain of yours, Jeon," you retorted weakly, your hand coming up instinctively to press against his broad chest, intending to push him back to a safe distance. But the second your palm hit the soft fabric of his tank top, feeling the solid, rapid, and powerful thumping of his heart beneath your fingers, your strength completely evaporated. Your fingers ended up just curling into the cotton shirt, pulling him a millimeter closer instead.

Jungkook let out a short, sharp breath, his dark eyes darkening significantly as he felt the tight grip of your fingers on his shirt.

"Sweets," he murmured, his voice cracking slightly with a sudden, deep wave of real, unprotected emotion. He did not force a heavy grip on you, and he did not rush forward to steal a kiss. He just kept his large hand resting flat against your neck, his thumb gently caressing your jawline, giving you every single opportunity to pull away if it was too much for you to handle. "We've been being so good for four weeks. I've been the most patient guy in the entire city. I've given you all the space you asked for. But sitting this close to you while you look at me like that... it's starting to feel like a literal torture method."

You stared up at him, your lips parted, your mind completely spinning as the sheer emotional depth of his gaze anchored you to the floor. The last lingering remnants of your past life, the anxiety of the old relationship, the fear of changing the rules of your friendship—it all completely dissolved into the warm, amber light of the room.

"I'm not looking at you like anything," you whispered desperately into the tiny space between your mouths, your eyes locked onto his.

"You are," Jungkook whispered back, his face leaning down just another fraction of an inch, his warm lips almost brushing against yours as he spoke. "You're looking at me the exact same way I've been looking at you for three long years. And if you don't tell me to go back to my side of the room right now... I am going to completely ruin our safe little boundary tonight."

You did not say a single word. You did not move away, and you did not pull your hand away from his chest.

Instead, your fingers tightened fiercely against the fabric of his tank top, your eyes closing as you slowly leaned your head forward, completely closing the final, agonizing distance between you.

When his lips finally met yours, it wasn't the tentative, careful question from the beach shoreline a month ago. It was a deep, slow, and completely possessive answer. Jungkook let out a low, ragged sigh against your mouth, his large arms finally moving to wrap securely around your waist. He lifted your body completely off the rug and pulled you directly into his lap, closing every single inch of distance between you.

He held you with a heavy, unhurried strength that felt entirely permanent, his mouth moving against yours with a breathless, deep intensity that completely erased the old lines of your friendship. His lips were warm, soft, and demanding, tasting faintly of mint and sweetness. Your hands slid up his chest, your fingers tangling into the soft, messy curls at the back of his neck, holding onto him as if he were the only solid thing left in the world.

…

The bedroom was completely quiet. There was no more running, no more cold masks, and no more walls between you. The air felt completely thick with a deep, breathless relief.

You were both still on the floor, right by the side of your unmade bed. Jungkook’s broad back was resting firmly against the edge of the mattress, his long legs spread wide to cradle your body completely inside his space. He had pulled you right onto his lap, your knees framing his hips, bringing your bodies so close that there wasn’t a single inch of empty space left between you. His massive, hands were wrapped tightly around your waist, his fingers digging into your skin with a steady, grounding pressure as if he was still terrified you might vanish into the dark night.

His mouth found yours again, and the kiss was entirely different from any clash you had ever shared before. It was deep, wet, and completely filled with an aching, desperate hunger that had been building up for a month. His tongue slid smoothly against yours, tasting the salt of your recent tears, while his hot breath fanned across your cheeks.

As the kiss deepened, Jungkook’s hips gave a slow, heavy tilt upward. The friction was instant. Even through the thick, rough denim of his jeans and the fabric of your clothes, the hard, solid length of his erection pressed firmly against your core. A soft, trembling gasp was pulled right from your throat, your fingers instantly digging into the fabric of his t-shirt.

He didn't speed up. He kept the movement slow, heavy, and incredibly deliberate, dry humping you right there on his lap. Every single time his hips rolled against yours, you could feel the throbbing size of his length pushing hard against your thighs. The friction was building a thick, heavy pool of heat between your legs, making your core clench desperately against the rough denim. He groaned deep in his chest, a low, vibrating sound that went straight down your spine. His mouth moved to your jawline, his lips sucking softly at your skin, leaving a wet trail down to your neck.

"You feel so fucking good, sweets," Jungkook panted darkly, his hot breath brushing against your ear. His large hands slid down from your waist, his palms cupping your ass tightly, lifting you slightly just to press your wet heat even harder against his hard jeans. "I’ve been going completely crazy for months. Do you know how hard it was to watch you walk past me every day and not pull you into a room?"

Your face flushed a deep, burning crimson. You were incredibly shy under his direct, raw words, but your body was completely betraying you, melting into his heavy heat. Your fingers slid up his chest, your palms mapping his muscles. You found yourself completely obsessed with the size of his biceps, your fingers squeezing the hard muscle as he lifted you. You stared down at his chest in the dim light, your breath catching at how massive and solid he felt beneath your hands.

Reaching out with a trembling finger, you playfully flicked his nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Jungkook let out a sharp, ragged gasp, his eyes instantly darkening with a wild, teasing intensity. A dominant, beautiful smirk tugged at his lips. "Oh, you want to play dirty now, princess?"

Before you could answer, his large hand slid up under your shirt, his rough, warm palms finding your bare skin. His thick fingers captured your nipple, giving it a firm, teasing pinch that sent a sharp, electric jolt of pure pleasure straight down to your thighs. You arched your back, a loud gasp escaping your lips as his thumb began to make tight, heavy circles over the sensitive peak.

You fired back, your fingers tugging at his shirt until you could reach his chest, your thumb and forefinger finding his nipple again, pinching it right back. You were both teasing each other's nipples, the friction and the light pain driving the mood into something incredibly wild, raw, and completely unaligned with the cold distance of the past.

Jungkook couldn't take the distance on the floor anymore. Without breaking the heavy, wet connection of your lips, his massive arms wrapped completely under your thighs and back. He stood up smoothly, lifting your weight as if you weighed nothing at all, and moved the both of you onto the soft mattress of your bed.

He laid you down gently onto the dark blankets, his heavy, muscular frame immediately hovering right over you. He looked down at your face. His eyes were completely dark, filled with a raw, serious vulnerability. Neither of you had ever seen each other completely naked before—every previous encounter had been sweet, and hidden. Tonight was real.

"Hey," Jungkook whispered, his voice incredibly soft, sexy, and deep as he stared directly into your eyes. He reached down, his thumb gently tracing your lower lip. "Look at me, princess. I want to do this right. I want to see every single inch of you. Can I continue? Tell me you want me inside you."

Your heart was hammering against your ribs, a wave of shyness washing over you at his intense focus, but you nodded your head softly, your fingers curling around his wrists. "Yes... Jungkook, please."

A soft, relieved sigh left his lips. He didn't waste another second. With slow, worshipful movements, he reached down and carefully pulled your shirt over your head, completely exposing your breasts to the warm air of the room. Jungkook froze for a long, heavy minute, his breath hitching completely in his throat. He stared at them in the dim light, his eyes completely blown out as he took in the soft, perfect shape of your chest.

"God, you are so beautiful," he growled darkly, his voice rough with an absolute, desperate hunger. He leaned down, his large, scarred hands cupping your breasts roughly, his thick fingers sinking into the soft flesh. He didn't bite brutally; he opened his mouth wide, licking and sucking your nipple deep into his mouth, his tongue making heavy, wet circles around the peak until you were crying out, your fingers twisting into his dark hair.

While he sucked your breast, your hands slid down his broad shoulders, your fingers mapping the thick lines of his back before you reached for the hem of his t-shirt. You pushed the fabric up, your eyes widening as he pulled it off, completely exposing his massive chest, his chiseled abs, and the powerful lines of his biceps. You were completely obsessed with his body, your palms sliding over his warm, tanned skin, feeling the heavy, rapid thumping of his heart beneath his ribs.

Jungkook reached down, his fingers unbuttoning your trousers and sliding them off your legs, leaving you in nothing but your small lace panties. He shifted his body down between your thighs, his knees forcing your legs wide apart. He looked down at your core, his breathing turning ragged.

His large, wrapped hand slid down, his palm resting right over the fabric of your panties. He began to rub his palm in slow, heavy circles over your pussy, flicking his fingers lightly against your hidden clit through the thin lace. He observed your face, watching your eyes flutter shut as you let out a high-pitched, needy whimper.

"Let me see it," Jungkook murmured, his voice a dirty, raw whisper against your thigh. "Can I take these off, sweets? Let me look at you."

You nodded weakly, your hands gripping the bedsheets as he carefully slid the lace panties down your legs, tossing them onto the floor. Jungkook stayed on his knees, his dark eyes locking onto your exposed core. In the dim glow of the room, he observed your beautiful, pink-brownish flesh, his eyes tracing the delicate, wet lines of your pussy. You felt incredibly shy under his intense gaze, instinctively trying to close your thighs to hide yourself from him.

"Don't hide from me," he commanded softly, his large hands gripping your knees and gently pushing them wide open again. "You are so fucking perfect. Look how wet you already are for me."

Using his delicate, thick fingers, he reached down and lightly flicked through the thick, clear cream that you had already released through the intense dry humping. He didn't rush. He moved his fingertips slowly over your clit, spreading your own wet juices over the sensitive flesh, making a soft, wet sound that filled the quiet bedroom. He was being incredibly dirty, moving his finger tips in tight, heavy circulation right over your clit, applying a steady, intense pressure that made your hips violently jerk off the bed.

"Ah! Jungkook... it's too much," you cried out, your face flushing as a wave of intense, pre-climax pleasure shot through your lower body.

"It's not too much yet, sweets," he whispered darkly, leaning down until his lips were just millimeters from your wet flesh. He let out a low growl, his tongue darting out to lick right across your clit, tasting your sweet cream. He started giving you a slow, incredibly nice pussy licks, his tongue licking and sucking your sensitive flesh while his fingers slid deep inside your wet core, moving in and out in a perfect, heavy rhythm.

You were writhing under him, your mind completely shattered by the dirty things he was whispering against your thighs, your body melting into the mattress. The pleasure was so pure, so real, and entirely empty of the past.

You reached down, your trembling hands catching his broad shoulders, pulling him up. "Jungkook... please, I want to touch you. Let me hold it."

Jungkook’s eyes flashed with a wild, dark desire, when you suddenly confessed. He shifted his body up, sitting on his knees right over your face. He unbuttoned his jeans, his hands sliding the heavy denim down his long legs until he was completely undressed. Your breath caught completely in your throat. It was your very first time seeing his length completely bare. He was massive, thick, and completely rock-hard, a heavy bead of precum glistening at the very tip of his shaft.

"Hold it, baby," he panted, his voice dripping with a raw, dirty authority. "Take it."

Your hands were shaking as you reached out, your fingers wrapping around the thick, warm base of his length. He let out a deep groan as your skin touched his, his jaw clenching tightly. You leaned up slightly, your tongue darting out to softly lick the shaft, moving your lips along the thick veins. You took the head into your mouth, giving him a slow, deep blowjob, your lips tight around his size while your hand moved up and down the length.

Jungkook’s breathing went completely wild. He reached down, his large hands gently gripping your hair, and began to softly mouth fuck you, pushing his thick length deep into your throat in a steady, heavy rhythm. The wet sounds of your mouth fucking filling the space between your gasps for air.

He moved with a heavy, intense pace until his entire body went completely rigid. He pulled back just an inch, his dark eyes looking down at your face, his voice a tight, strained rasp.

"Sweets... I'm close. Do you want me to come inside your mouth? Tell me."

You looked right into his wild, obsessed eyes, your heart completely melting at how real and vulnerable he looked. You nodded your head firmly, letting out a soft hum of agreement.

Jungkook let out a low, animalistic roar, pushing his thick length all the way back into your mouth to the very root. His body trembled violently as he released, pouring his thick, hot, and heavy cum right down your throat. You swallowed every single drop, your hands rubbing his thighs as his release pumped out against your tongue.

The moment he finished, he slowly pulled away, his breathing ragged. He didn't leave you alone for even a single second. Jungkook immediately pulled you back up into his broad chest, his massive arms wrapping around you as he gave you a sweet, tender aftercare for a full minute, kissing your lips, your forehead, and your wet cheeks, whispering how much he loved you into your skin.

But the night was far from over. The raw, unprotected heat between your bodies was still burning completely out of control.

Jungkook shifted your body, positioning you flat on your back once more. He crawled between your thighs, his thick, heavy length already semi-hard again, pressing right against the entrance of your wet pussy. He paused, his hands framing your hips, his eyes locking onto yours with a serious, deep focus.

Suddenly, with a playful, dominant smirk, his large hand came down, giving a loud, sharp slap right against your wet pussy flesh. The loud CLAP echoed through the room, making your eyes widen in pure, shocked arousal.

"You're so fucking wet for me, baby," he whispered darkly, his thumb finding your clit to begin a heavy circulation through the thick juices. He positioned the thick head of his dick right at your opening. "Can I put it back in? Let me slide all the way inside you, sweets."

"Yes... please, Jungkook, put it in," you screamed out, your pride completely gone.

Jungkook gave a deep, slow push, his massive, unprotected dick sliding smoothly and deeply right into your tight, wet core, bottoming out completely to the absolute root. A loud, desperate scream tore from your throat, your fingers digging deep into his biceps as he began to push in and out of you, starting the real, unbroken rhythm of the night.

Every single thrust was slow, heavy, and completely bottoming out inside your tight, swollen core. The unprotected friction between your bodies felt entirely different—it was an overwhelming, melting heat that stripped away the last remaining doubts in your mind.

His large hands were locked firmly around your hips, his calloused thumbs digging into your skin to anchor you against the soft mattress. With every slow, deliberate push, the wet, squelching sound of his thick shaft sliding through your excess juices filled the quiet room. You lay beneath him with your legs spread wide, your head tossing back against the pillows as a high, breathless whimpering tore from your throat.

"Look at me, sweets," Jungkook panted, his voice a deep, gravelly rasp that shook your chest. He leaned his heavy upper body down, his broad chest pressing flat against yours, trapping your smaller frame under his massive weight. "Don't close your eyes. Look at how much of my dick you're taking right now."

You forced your eyelids open, your vision slightly blurred by tears of pure, intense pleasure. In the dim amber light of the streetlamps, his dark eyes were completely fixed on yours. There was a raw, beautiful vulnerability in his gaze—an absolute surrender that perfectly mirrored your own. The pride that had kept you apart for months was entirely gone, replaced by a deep, aching dependency that you finally permitted yourself to feel.

"Jungkook... ah! It feels... so deep," you choked out, your fingers sliding up his damp, muscular arms, your palms completely obsessed with the thick, hard curve of his biceps. You squeezed the solid muscle tightly as he delivered a slow, crushing surge that hit your spot perfectly from the front.

"Because it is deep, baby. Fucking deep," he growled softly, a low, vibrating chuckle rumbling against your chest. He stopped moving for a split second, his thick length buried to the absolute root inside you, letting you feel the full, throbbing weight of his erection. His hand slid up from your hip, his long, scarred fingers wrapping roughly around your breast. His thumb flicked over your highly sensitive nipple, applying a firm, teasing pressure that made your internal walls instantly convulse around his shaft. "I want to be so deep inside you that you can't think about anyone or anything else. You're completely filled with me."

He began to move again, but this time, he altered his angle, his hips moving in a tight, heavy circulation. The rolling motion of his pelvis against your clit, combined with the deep, deep strokes of his dick, was completely lethal. A sharp, loud scream escaped your lips, your back arching violently off the mattress as the friction reached a boiling point.

Jungkook let out a ragged gasp, his own head dropping into the crook of your neck. He began to suck and bite at your collarbone, leaving light, wet marks while his lower body kept up the relentless, circulating rhythm. He reached his hand down between your thighs, his thick thumb finding your swollen, dripping clit through the thick white cream that was beginning to coat his groin. He began to make tight, heavy, fast circles against your clit, matching the speed of his thumbs to the deep, grinding thrusts of his hips.

The combination completely shattered your mind. You were drowning in the raw, dirty reality of his touch. You could feel his thick veins pulsing against your internal walls, every single millimeter of his size stretching you open, forcing your body to stay in a constant, crushing state of climax.

"Jungkook! Please... I'm going to come... ah!" you sobbed out, your hands moving to the back of his neck, your fingers twisting desperately into his damp, dark hair to pull him down for a deep, wet kiss.

"Come for me then, love," he muttered against your lips, his tongue sliding deep into your mouth to swallow your high, needy cries. "Clench around my dick. Let me feel how tight you get when you ruin yourself for me."

Your body completely gave in. A massive, violent orgasm tore through your entire lower body, your internal walls clenching around his thick shaft so tightly that Jungkook let out a loud, animalistic roar of pure agony. His thrusts became faster, heavier, and completely unforgiving for a few wild seconds, his chest slamming against yours as he chased his own release through your convulsions. But even in his desperation, his large hands remained gentle around your waist, keeping you grounded, keeping you safe against him.

He didn't pull out when your body finished trembling. He kept his cock buried deep inside you, his heavy breathing filling the quiet room as he waited for your internal pulses to slow down. He leaned down, kissing your forehead, your wet cheeks, and the tip of your nose, his touch filled with an unbelievable, heartbreaking sweetness that made your heart melt completely.

"You're so perfect, baby, So perfect," he whispered, his rough voice completely stripped of its usual dominant edge. He reached down, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of damp hair away from your face. "My beautiful, perfect girl. I'm never letting you go back to that cold past ever."

You leaned up, your lips softly pressing against his chiseled jawline, your heart completely full. "I don't want to go back, Jungkook. I just want to stay right here."

He let out a soft, beautiful laugh, his dark eyes shining with an absolute, devoted warmth. He slowly pulled his semi-hard length out of your core, a soft, wet sound echoing in the quiet room as your shared juices spilled onto his thighs. Jungkook didn't leave your side for a single second.

He immediately pulled you into his broad chest, his massive arms wrapping around your waist, pulling the thick blankets completely over both of your shoulders to shield you. As the quiet night settled over the small apartment, you rested your head against his heart, your fingers intertwined with his scarred hand, finally, completely free. "I love you sweets," he planked a kiss to your lips.

"I love you too."

...

[ Request your fic here🫶🏼]

a/n: fr enjoyed writing this one sm!! nd made me feel so much aww in a way i can’t even explain lol. tbh this is a trope i’ve never actually tried before, so i really wanted to experiment with it in a super detailed way. i def didn't want to rush anything or just jump straight into the plot just to force them to confess love for each other immediately. i really hope u guys love the slow build up & how it turned out! thank you for showing so much love for the teaser !!! layout ur thoughts in the comments pls <3 REBLOGS ARE ALSO APPRECIATED

...

A/N : at last

…

The absolute worst part about having your heart broken into a million pieces was not the crying. It was the fact that the rest of the world completely refused to stop moving. You felt like the universe should at least have the decency to give you a gloomy thunderstorm or a dramatic power outage. But no. The sun outside your bedroom window was blindingly bright and your phone kept buzzing with annoying notifications.

Right on your kitchen counter sat two very expensive, completely non-refundable vacation tickets. They were supposed to be for a romantic road trip. Now, they were just tiny paper slips mocking your sudden single status.

You lay completely flat on your stomach, your face buried so deep into your pillow that you were pretty sure you were breathing in dust bunnies. You were wrapped in three different blankets, wearing a giant, faded t-shirt that had a stain from last week's takeout. Your eyes were raw and puffy from a solid twelve hours of weeping, and a highly depressing acoustic song was looping softly from your phone. You had fully committed to this bed. This was your life now. You were going to become one with the mattress.

Suddenly, a loud, violent metallic scrape echoed from the front door.

You didn't even blink. Only one person on the entire planet possessed your spare house key and the absolute lack of basic human manners to use it without texting first.

A few seconds later, your bedroom door didn't just open—it swung back so hard it hit the drywall with a dull thud. The immediate, comforting scent of clean laundry, mint gum, and sweet banana milk rushed into the dark, stuffy room.

"Jesus, sweets," a loud, entirely too cheerful voice boomed. "It looks like a vampire cave in here. Seriously, did something die under the bed?"

You didn't look up. Instead, you reached out blindly, grabbed the edge of your heavy comforter, and yanked it completely over your head until you were a dark, shapeless lump. "Go away, Jungkook. I am dead. Call the police."

"Can't do that. I don't look good in police station lighting," Jungkook said. You heard his heavy footsteps cross your hardwood floor. He didn't say anything sweet or sad. He didn't ask how your feelings were. Instead, a massive, crinkling plastic convenience store bag was dropped directly onto your lower back with a heavy thump. "I brought snacks. And more importantly, I brought myself. You can thank me now."

"I don't want snacks. I want to turn into a rock," your muffled voice grumbled from beneath the layers of fabric.

Jungkook let out a long, highly dramatic sigh. "A rock? Really? That's so uncreative."

Before you could even figure out what he was doing, you felt his large, strong hands grab the loose edges of your comforter. With one quick, incredibly smooth yank, he rolled you sideways across the bed. You let out a squeak as the blanket wrapped tighter and tighter around you, pinning your arms firmly to your sides. By the time he stopped pulling, you were rolled up like a massive, helpless cylinder.

"Jungkook! Let me out right now!" you yelled, wiggling your legs furiously, but you couldn't move an inch.

"Nope. You are officially a human burrito," he declared. He sat down heavily right on the edge of your mattress, looking down at you with a massive, goofy, bunny-toothed grin. He was wearing a giant, oversized bright yellow hoodie that made him look like a giant lemon, a black beanie pushed back on his dark hair, and baggy sweatpants. He looked completely cozy and entirely too full of chaotic energy. "And according to the rules of fast food, burritos are not allowed to stay in bed all day."

He casually reached into the plastic bag, pulled out a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips, and popped it open with a loud pop. He crunched on one right next to your ear, making as much noise as humanly possible.

"You need to eat. And you need to start throwing things into a bag," he said, talking around a chip.

"I’m not going on the trip, Jungkook," you whispered. The silly mood suddenly dipped, and that familiar, heavy ache pressed down on your chest again. Your throat felt tight. "The tickets were for... you know. I’m not going to drive across the country by myself like some pathetic loser in a movie. It’s supposed to be a couple's road trip."

Jungkook stopped chewing. His dark, round eyes softened for a fraction of a second, looking at you with total warmth. But he quickly blinked it away, replaced it with a look of pure, exaggerated offense, and let out a loud gasp.

"By yourself? A pathetic loser?" He slapped a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? Are you blind? Look at me. Look at these shoulders." He puffed his chest out dramatically. "I am the literal definition of the ultimate travel partner. I can drive for ten hours straight without getting sleepy. I can lift your heavy bags without complaining. And, most importantly, unlike your trash ex-boyfriend, I actually know how to wash my own hair without being reminded."

A tiny, involuntary laugh snorted out of your nose before you could stop it. "Jungkook, be serious for once."

"I am being 100% serious!" He grabbed his phone from his pocket, flipping it around to show you a photo of his large black duffel bag sitting by his front door. "I’ve been completely packed since you called me crying at two in the morning. I even packed my good cologne. We are absolutely not letting that absolute clown ruin your summer vacation. Honestly, the guy dressed like a wet cardboard box anyway. You basically downgraded your stress level by losing him."

"He did not dress like cardboard," you mumbled, though a small part of your brain completely agreed.

"Sweets, he literally wore white socks with leather sandals to a nice seafood restaurant. We’ve discussed this. It was a crime against humanity," Jungkook joked, rolling his eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck.

He stood up, stretched his arms above his head, and walked straight over to your closet. He dragged your large, dusty suitcase out from the corner, threw it onto the floor, and opened it with a long, aggressive zipppp. Without asking for permission, he grabbed a handful of random t-shirts from your hangers and tossed them into the empty bag.

"Hey! Stop! What are you doing? Don't just throw things in there!" you shrieked, trying to break your arms free from the blanket trap.

"Then get your lazy self out of the burrito and do it properly," he countered, flashing a cheeky, challenging smile. He reached deep into your drawer and held up a bright, neon green t-shirt that you hadn't touched since a middle school spirit day. "Are we taking this? It looks like a giant highlighter. Perfect for when you get lost in the woods and I have to hunt you down."

"Give me that, you idiot!" You finally managed to kick your legs loose, scrambling out of the blanket pile like a chaotic animal to snatch the ugly shirt from his hands.

Jungkook hopped back, laughing a rich, loud sound that echoed through your quiet apartment. He stood by the window, watching with a satisfied little smirk as you finally began neatly folding your clothes and placing them into the suitcase. The suffocating, heavy weight that had been sitting on your lungs all morning suddenly felt a little bit lighter. He was loud, he was annoying, and he completely ignored your personal space, but he was exactly the distraction you needed to keep from losing your mind.

For the next thirty minutes, you both fought over what to pack. Jungkook tried to convince you that bringing five pairs of shoes was unnecessary, while he simultaneously tried to pack three different gaming controllers "just in case the hotels have a good TV." He kept grabbing random things around your room—like a giant stuffed bear and a pack of old sticky notes—and trying to drop them into the suitcase just to see your annoyed reaction.

"We are not taking the stuffed bear, Jungkook! It takes up the entire suitcase!" you yelled, throwing a pair of rolled-up socks directly at his forehead.

He caught the socks perfectly with one hand, laughing loudly. "But what if you get scared of the dark? Who is going to protect you? Me? I'm terrified of ghosts. The bear is our only line of defense."

"I'll take my chances with the ghosts," you laughed, snatching the bear back and tossing it onto your bed.

Once the suitcase was finally zipped shut, Jungkook grabbed the handle and lifted it effortlessly, checking his imaginary watch. "Alright, let's move out. The Jeon Express is leaving the station."

You walked into the bathroom to quickly wash your face and brush your teeth. Your reflection looked a bit tired, with faint dark circles under your eyes, but the tears had completely stopped. You tied your hair up into a messy, casual bun and walked out to the parking lot.

The bright summer sun hit your face, making you squint. Jungkook was already leaning against the hood of his clean black car, holding two large iced coffees from the café down the street. He didn't say anything heavy or emotional as you approached. He just handed you the plastic cup, his warm, thick fingers brushing against yours for a brief second.

Before you could pull the passenger door open, Jungkook stepped directly into your path, blocking you. He was much taller than you, shadowing you completely from the bright light.

He reached out, his large thumb pressing gently against your cheek. He carefully wiped away a tiny, dried tear track that you had missed near your ear. His touch was incredibly soft, completely different from his usual clumsy, rough-and-tumble energy.

He looked straight down into your eyes, his voice dropping into a quiet, remarkably gentle tone. "Hey. No more crying about that guy on this trip. From this moment on, you only laugh with me. Deal?"

You stared up at his dark, clear eyes, completely caught off guard by how serious he looked for that single second. You nodded slowly, a genuine smile pulling at your lips. "Deal."

"Awesome!" Jungkook yelled instantly, completely shattering the quiet, sweet moment as he slammed his hand down onto the roof of the car and hopped into the driver's seat. "Get in, loser! We have snacks to buy and miles to burn!"

You climbed into the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt as Jungkook cranked up the engine. The car filled with the cool blast of the air conditioner, and as you pulled out of the parking lot, you looked over at him. He was already tapping his fingers happily against the steering wheel, completely ready for the road. The sadness was still there, lurking in the back of your mind, but looking at his bright, energetic smile, you knew this road trip was going to be exactly what you needed.

…

The first two hours of the road trip were an absolute, unmitigated war zone. Specifically, a war over who controlled the car's Bluetooth settings, and neither of you was willing to sign a peace treaty.

The highway stretched out infinitely ahead of you, a long ribbon of gray asphalt surrounded by massive, rolling green hills and a perfectly clear blue sky. It was a textbook summer day. The windows were rolled down halfway, filling the car with a loud, roaring rush of wind that blew your hair completely wildly across your face and brought in the fresh scent of cut grass.

You were slouched deeply in the passenger seat, your knees propped against the dashboard, staring out at the passing green trees. For a brief minute, the noise of the wind faded into the background of your mind, and your brain tried to slide back into thinking about your ex. You felt that familiar, annoying little sting in your throat, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. Automatically, wanting to drown out the silence, your hand reached toward the glowing dashboard screen to connect your phone.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jungkook asked suddenly. He didn't take his eyes off the highway, but his upper body instantly leaned toward the center console like a guard dog protecting a bone.

"I’m just trying to play a song," you said, pulling up a playlist of very quiet, very sad indie acoustic ballads. "Just background music for the drive."

"Absolutely not," Jungkook said, pressing his foot down on the gas pedal to pass a slow-moving semi-truck. "I know that exact tone of voice. You’re about to play one of those depressing songs where the singer sounds like they’re whispering while crying in a dark closet. This car is a designated heartbreak-free zone. No sad guitars allowed on my watch."

"Jungkook, it’s a beautiful song! Just let me play one!" you argued, reaching your fingers closer to the touchscreen. "It sets a peaceful mood!"

"Peaceful? Sweets, that song makes people want to stare out a rainy window and question their entire existence," he countered.

In one lightning-fast move, Jungkook snatched the charging cable, plugged it into his own phone, and slapped his device firmly into the cup holder. "Too bad. The captain has taken total control of the vessel. Prepare your ears for actual quality."

A ridiculously loud, incredibly upbeat pop song from 2012 blasted through the car speakers. The beat was incredibly fast, and entirely impossible to take seriously. It was a song you hadn't heard since high school, filled with cheesy dramatic bass drops.

You let out a massive groan, covering your face with both hands as the speakers rattled. "Oh my god, please no. Not this song. Turn it off right now! I will actually jump out of the moving vehicle, I swear to god."

Jungkook completely ignored your suffering. His face lit up with pure, unadulterated mischief. He snatched his half-empty plastic water bottle from the holder, gripping it tightly like a professional microphone. He started belting out the lyrics at the absolute top of his lungs, intentionally hitting every single high note completely out of tune. He bounced his shoulders to the rhythm, his head bobbing wildly as he kept his eyes safely glued to the road.

"Come on! I know you know the chorus! Don't lie to me!" he shouted over the blaring music, shoving the top of the water bottle toward your face like an aggressive reporter.

"I am absolutely not participating in this," you laughed, trying your hardest to maintain a stern, annoyed expression, but failing completely. You tried to swat the water bottle away, but he just leaned closer, his voice getting even louder and more ridiculous.

When the main chorus hit, Jungkook did a dramatic, slow-motion hair shake, turning his head just enough to give you a ridiculous, cheesy wink through his dark sunglasses. He looked so absurd—this highly muscular, broad-shouldered guy who spent five days a week lifting heavy weights at the gym, singing a sugary girl-pop anthem with the passion of a stadium performer.

The ridiculousness of the sight was too much. You burst into a loud, hysterical laugh that completely filled the space of the car, your ribs aching. Hearing you laugh only made Jungkook grow more confident. He started doing little seated dance moves, tapping his fingers wildly against the steering wheel and wiggling his eyebrows at you.

By the time the fourth song came on, you completely threw away your dignity. You grabbed an empty plastic coffee cup to use as your own microphone, rolled your window down all the way, and joined him. You both screamed the ridiculous lyrics out into the open air as the highway blurred past, your voices cracking on the high notes. For the first time in what felt like centuries, the heavy, suffocating cloud in your head was totally gone. You weren't a dumped ex-girlfriend wallowing in self-pity. You were just you, acting like a complete idiot with your best friend.

"We need a strategy," Jungkook said solemnly as you walked through the sliding glass doors of the convenience store. The air conditioning hit you like an icy wall, smelling faintly of stale coffee and hot dogs. "We can't just pick random snacks. We need a perfect balance of salty, sweet, sour, and a wild card."

"A wild card?" you asked, eyebrow raised as you grabbed a small plastic shopping basket.

"Yes. Something we have never tried before, or something that looks mildly dangerous to eat," he explained, completely serious. He marched straight over to the chip aisle, his eyes scanning the shelves like a scientist. "For salty, we are obviously going with the giant bag of sour cream and onion. It's a classic. No debate."

"Fine, but I get to choose the sweet snack," you argued, stepping past him to grab a pack of chocolate-covered pretzels. "These are mandatory."

Jungkook looked at the bag, then down at you, nodding slowly in approval. "Excellent choice. The salt-to-chocolate ratio is highly efficient. I respect it." He then wandered over to the candy section, holding up a box of extremely sour gummy worms. "For sour, we go with these. They look like they will strip the enamel right off our teeth. Perfect."

"And what’s the wild card?" you asked, following him as he walked over to a weird display near the cash register.

He pointed a finger at a dusty jar containing massive, bright pink pickled sausages floating in cloudy liquid. "Those. They look like an alien life form."

"Absolutely not, Jungkook! I am not letting you eat a radioactive sausage in your car. The smell will never leave the fabric," you shrieked, grabbing his arm to pull him away from the counter.

Jungkook laughed, a rich, bouncy sound that made his chest shake against your hand. He let you drag him toward the drink cooler, where he immediately grabbed three bottles of sweet banana milk and an iced coffee for you. "Fine, no alien sausages. But if we run out of fuel for our brains, I’m blaming you."

By the time you reached the register, your basket was completely overflowing with junk food. Jungkook pulled out his wallet before you could even reach for yours, tossing his card to the cashier with a confident smirk.

"I told you, I’m funding the snack department on this trip," he said, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully. "Your money is no good here, sweets."

"You're just trying to buy my affection so I don't roast your music taste anymore," you teased, grabbing the heavy plastic bag as the cashier handed it over.

"Is it working?" he asked, flashing a quick, bunny-toothed grin as he pushed the exit door open for you.

"Slightly," you admitted, popping a chocolate pretzel into your mouth as you walked back out into the bright, baking afternoon heat. "The banana milk definitely helped your case."

Back on the road, the smooth, flat highway slowly began to change. The scenery grew more crowded with large patches of trees, and the road began to tilt upward as you approached the lower hills of the mountain range.

It was around this time that Jungkook’s "perfect internal navigation system," which he had spent the last thirty miles bragging about, proved to be an absolute, unmitigated disaster.

"Jungkook," you said, leaning forward in your seat and squinting through the windshield as the smooth asphalt slowly transitioned into a bumpy, unpaved road. "The giant yellow sign we passed back there definitely said 'Road Closed Ahead.' Like, in giant, flashing bold letters."

"Don't worry about it, it’s fine. The main highway has a massive traffic backup according to my radar. I’m taking a highly calculated shortcut," he said smoothly, spinning the leather steering wheel to the right with total, unearned confidence. "Trust the process. I have an internal compass. It's an instinct, really. My ancestors were probably navigators."

"Your ancestors probably didn't have to deal with dead ends, Jungkook," you muttered, holding onto the door handle as the car jolted over a particularly deep pothole.

The road grew narrower and narrower, the thick trees closing in on either side until branches were lightly brushing against the side mirrors. The GPS screen on the dashboard had completely lost its mind, showing your little car icon spinning in circles in the middle of a massive green void.

Ten minutes later, the road completely ended. It didn't just narrow down—it stopped dead at a rotten wooden farm fence. On the other side of the fence stood three very large, very brown, and very confused-looking cows. They stopped chewing their grass to stare directly through the windshield at your car.

The car went completely silent except for the low, quiet idling hum of the engine.

You turned your head very slowly on the headrest to look at him. Jungkook was still gripping the steering wheel with both hands, staring blankly through the glass at the cows. His mouth was slightly open, his brain actively processing the absolute defeat.

The silence stretched on for a solid thirty seconds.

"Wow," you whispered softly, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Incredible shortcut, captain. Truly magnificent. Should I roll down the passenger window and ask the middle cow for the fastest route back to civilization, or do you want to handle the negotiations?"

Jungkook’s ears instantly turned a bright, burning shade of pink, the color creeping up from his collar. He cleared his throat loudly, stubbornly refusing to look at you at first. He squeezed the steering wheel tightly, then let out a tiny, embarrassed, high-pitched giggle that he tried to disguise as a cough.

"Hey... honestly, sweets, they look like they know the area," he mumbled, finally glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "They look like locals. They probably have a lot of wisdom."

"Admission of total defeat, Jeon. Say the words," you teased, unbuckling your seatbelt so you could lean your upper body completely across the center console, getting directly into his line of sight. "I want to hear you say it."

"Fine! I whined," he groaned, throwing his arms up in the air dramatically and letting his head fall back against the seat. "We are completely, utterly lost. My internal compass is broken. The ancestors lied to me. You win the navigation trophy. Happy now?"

"Incredibly happy," you laughed loudly, reaching your hand completely across his lap to grab his phone from the plastic dashboard mount so you could check the real map. "Now give me the device so we don't end up living in a barn with your new friends."

Because you had lunged over so quickly without thinking, your shoulder bumped hard against his broad chest. Your hand froze right on the screen of his phone.

Jungkook froze instantly beneath you. He didn't pull back. You froze too, your breath hitching as you suddenly realized exactly how close your faces were.

From this distance, the loud wind from outside felt completely quiet. The playful, chaotic energy that had filled the car for hours vanished in a single fraction of a second. You were leaning completely over his lap, your face mere inches from his. You could smell the sharp, clean, woodsy scent of his cologne mixed with the faint sweetness of the mint gum he was chewing.

His dark, round eyes were incredibly wide, staring straight down into your face. In the dimming afternoon light inside the car, his jawline looked remarkably sharp. For a tiny, terrifyingly unexpected second, his gaze dropped from your eyes down to your lips, lingering there for a heavy beat before snapping back up.

Your brain suddenly realized, with terrifying clarity, that Jungkook was very large, very solid, and entirely a grown man.

The silence lasted a second too long, the tension stretching tight like a rubber band.

Jungkook quickly cleared his throat, the sound a bit rougher than usual. He broke the weird spell by gently wrapping his large fingers around your wrist to help guide the phone into your hand, his skin burning hot against yours. He flashed a slightly forced, goofy grin to shatter the moment. "Here. Take it, captain. Save us from the cows."

"Thanks," you whispered, your voice a little breathless as you scrambled back into your own seat as fast as possible. Your heart was thumping a little too fast, a deep, hot blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks as you quickly stared down at the phone screen, praying he wouldn't notice.

"Alright," you said after a minute, desperately trying to keep your voice level and normal as you tapped the map screen. "If you put the car in reverse and back up about fifty yards, there’s a small tractor path that loops back to the main county road."

"On it," Jungkook said, clearly glad for the distraction. He threw the car into reverse, throwing his right arm over the back of your headrest so he could look out the rear window as he backed up.

Having his large arm stretched out right behind your neck made you feel incredibly small, his biceps flexing just inches from your face. You kept your eyes glued to the phone screen, pretending to study the map with intense interest, though the lines were completely blurring together.

"See? I told you I'd get us off the beaten path," Jungkook joked as the car successfully bounced back onto the main paved road a few minutes later. The playful, easygoing banter was returning, but the air in the car felt slightly different now—warmer, charged with a tiny, lingering spark that neither of you knew how to acknowledge.

"You got us into a staring contest with livestock, Jungkook," you retorted, rolling your eyes but letting out a soft laugh. "Let's just stick to the actual road from now on."

"Fines," he chuckled, tapping his fingers against the wheel as the highway finally began to wind upward into the beautiful, dark green mountains. "But if we see a cool waterfall on a dirt path, I'm not making any promises."

…

By the time you finally reached the higher mountain region, the bright summer sky had completely vanished. It was replaced by heavy, bruised-looking purple clouds. A sudden, massive downpour began to slam against the windshield, the rain coming down so thick that the wipers struggled to keep up with the sheets of water.

The GPS led you down a narrow, winding road that cut through massive forests covered in thick gray mist. It felt like you were driving straight into a movie scene. Finally, the car pulled up to a small, rustic wooden cabin nestled tightly between the trees. The yellow porch light cast a warm, blurry glow through the dark storm.

"We made it alive," Jungkook said, turning off the ignition. The sudden silence inside the car, save for the loud drumming of rain on the metal roof, felt incredibly heavy.

He looked over at you, noticing that you were shivering slightly from the sudden drop in the mountain temperature. Without saying a single word, he reached into the back seat, grabbed his spare, giant black hoodie, and dumped it right into your lap.

"Put that on before you turn into an ice cube," he said smoothly. "You're shaking."

The hoodie was completely massive on you. When you pulled it over your head, it smelled entirely like his clean laundry detergent and faint mint gum. The sleeves completely swallowed your hands, extending way past your fingers, but it was incredibly warm. You buried your nose into the high collar, instantly feeling a sense of absolute safety.

Getting the luggage inside, however, turned into a complete comedy. Jungkook, determined to show off his weekly gym progress, insisted on carrying both your giant suitcase and his heavy duffel bag at the exact same time. He grabbed both handles, took three highly confident, heavy steps toward the wooden porch, and suddenly, the cheap zipper on his overstuffed duffel bag completely popped open.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Jungkook muttered, freezing in place.

Before he could drop the bags, half of his packed clothes—including five pairs of bright neon socks and his favorite oversized gaming t-shirts—spilled out onto the wet, rainy wooden steps.

You stood safely under the porch roof, burying your face in your hands as you tried to suffocate your laughter. Jungkook scrambled around in the pouring rain, frantically scooping up his wet laundry with a deeply panicked, embarrassed expression.

"Don't look at me!" he yelled dramatically, clutching a bundle of wet gray sweatpants to his chest like a shield. "This is completely destroying my cool image!"

"You don't have a cool image!" you shouted back, laughing until your stomach hurt as you helped him grab the last few stray shirts and pulled him inside the warm cabin.

The interior of the place was beautiful—all dark wood walls, a stone fireplace, and a massive glass window looking out at the rainy woods. But the second you both walked into the bedroom area, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There was only one bed. It was a massive, king-sized bed with fluffy white comforters and a mountain of pillows, sitting right in the center of the room.

"Wait a minute," you said, quickly pulling up the email confirmation on your phone. "I definitely selected the option for two twin beds. I checked the box."

Jungkook walked back out to the small main office by the lobby, returning a few minutes later while scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Uh, so... turns out there was a massive booking glitch because of the storm. A bunch of travelers got stranded on the highway, so the place is completely full. This is the only room left in the entire place."

You looked at the single, giant bed, and then you looked at Jungkook.

In the past, sharing a sleeping space wouldn't have made you blink. You had known this guy forever. You had fallen asleep on his bedroom floor while playing video games a million times. It was always safe, always platonic, always totally effortless. But right now, standing in the dim, warm light of the cabin, the atmosphere felt completely different.

He wasn't the scrawny kid from next door anymore. He was a grown man with heavy shoulders and a presence that suddenly made the bedroom feel very, very small.

"Hey," Jungkook said softly, noticing your sudden silence. He stepped closer, clearly misinterpreting your expression. He thought you were getting sad about your ruined romantic plans again. "Look, if you’re uncomfortable, I can easily sleep on the floor. Or I can just crash in the back seat of the car. It’s seriously no big deal, sweets. Don't worry about it."

You looked at his damp hair, a few wet strands sticking to his forehead from the rain, and his wide, genuinely concerned eyes. You felt a wave of guilt for making him feel like an intruder.

"No, don't be ridiculous," you said, forcing a loud, casual laugh to clear the weird, awkward tension in the air. "It's a massive bed. We can just put a line of pillows down the middle. Like we did when we were kids. If your foot crosses over to my territory, I’m kicking you out."

Jungkook’s entire face instantly brightened, his familiar bunny smile returning in full force. "Oh, it's on. If you steal the blankets, I'm charging you a late fee."

After a highly sophisticated dinner of instant spicy ramen that you bought from the lobby store, the night grew late. The heavy rain outside continued to beat a loud, steady rhythm against the glass window. The cabin was incredibly warm, heated by the small electric fireplace in the corner.

You had changed into comfortable sweatpants but kept his giant hoodie on, the fabric keeping you completely cozy. Jungkook had changed into low-slung gray sweatpants and a simple, tight black t-shirt that showed off the lines of his arms.

You both climbed into the massive bed, keeping an intentional, wide gap of white sheet between your bodies, with a long fortress of pillows stacked neatly down the center. You lay flat on your back, staring up at the dark wooden beams of the ceiling, listening to the storm.

"Hey," Jungkook’s voice was surprisingly quiet, cutting through the dark room. He was lying on his side, facing your direction, his head propped up by his hand.

"Yeah?" you asked, turning your head toward him.

Jungkook looked at you through the gap in the pillows. The playful, goofy expression was gone. He looked serious, his dark eyes analyzing you carefully. "Can I ask you something? And you have to promise not to get mad or throw a pillow at my face."

"Depends on the question," you muttered, shifting slightly under the heavy blanket.

"Why are you actually crying so much over this guy?" he asked bluntly, his voice grounded and steady.

You blinked, caught completely off guard. "What do you mean? He broke up with me right before a vacation. It's normal to be sad."

Jungkook let out a low, quiet huff that sounded like a laugh, but it wasn't mean. He rested his chin on his forearm, staring directly into your eyes. "Sweets, let’s be entirely real for a second. That guy was a total time pass. For both of you."

"He was not!" you protested, though your voice lacked real conviction.

"He absolutely was," Jungkook countered smoothly, his tone incredibly calm. "You guys dated for what, eight months? And half the time, you forgot to even text him back because you were too busy baking or watching a show. You never talked about a future with him. You never even looked excited when he called. When he was around, it was just... convenient. It was a habit."

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words completely died in your throat. You stared up at the ceiling, your heart thumping against your ribs as his words sank in.

"I stayed back and didn't say anything because it wasn't my place," Jungkook continued softly, his voice dropping into a lower, gentler register. "I honestly thought you weren't even serious about him. I thought if you broke up, you’d just say 'oh well' and move on. So seeing you completely turn into a blanket burrito and weep for twelve hours straight... it doesn't make sense. You didn't love him, sweets."

"Then why does it hurt so much?" you whispered, your voice suddenly feeling very small, very raw in the dark cabin. A tiny, hot tear slipped down the side of your face, soaking into the pillow. "Why am I so miserable?"

Jungkook didn't answer with words right away. Instead, you felt the mattress shift heavily. He didn't cross the pillow barrier completely, but he reached his large, warm hand over the top of the cushions. His long fingers gently found yours under the edge of the blanket.

He didn't squeeze your hand hard, but his grip was incredibly steady, anchor-like. His skin was burning hot against your cold fingers.

"Because your pride is hurt," Jungkook said softly, his dark eyes fixed entirely on your face in the dim orange glow of the fireplace. "He rejected you, and nobody likes being rejected. It makes you feel lonely. It makes you feel like you failed at something. But you're missing the habit, not the person. You deserve someone who isn't just a 'time pass,'. You deserve someone who actually makes you feel alive."

You stared at him through the darkness, your breath completely catching in your throat.

His large thumb began to slowly, casually stroke the back of your hand, a tiny, repetitive movement that sent a strange, electric shiver straight up your arm. You were acutely, terrifyingly aware of how large he was, how close he was sitting on the other side of those pillows.

Your brain completely short-circuited. You had spent months telling yourself that your ex was the partner you were supposed to have, but standing next to Jungkook's sudden, intense emotional maturity, that entire relationship felt like a joke. The deep, unconditional comfort you felt with Jungkook right now—the way he read your mind, the way he knew exactly what you needed without you asking—it felt dangerously close to what real love was supposed to look like.

No, you told yourself fiercely, your heart slamming wildly against your ribs. You are just lonely. You are just emotional because of the breakup, so you are projecting onto your best friend. It’s just the cozy cabin setting making things weird.

"Jungkook," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to pull yourself back to reality.

"Yeah?" he murmured, his eyes dropping to your mouth for a fraction of a second before snapping back up to meet your gaze.

"You're being entirely too smart for a guy who got lost because of three cows," you teased weakly, trying to bring back the safe, funny dynamic before the physical tension completely swallowed you whole.

Jungkook froze for a second, then let out a rich, quiet chuckle, the heavy, romantic spell breaking just enough for both of you to breathe. He didn't let go of your hand, though. He kept his fingers loosely intertwined with yours over the pillows, his warmth keeping you grounded.

"Just admit I’m right. It’ll save us a lot of time." he grumbled playfully, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"You're mildly right," you admitted, a genuine, soft smile finally pulling at your lips as you closed your eyes. "Just a little bit."

"I'll take it," he whispered.

…

The following morning, the mountain storm had completely vanished, leaving behind a crisp, beautifully blue sky. The air smelled of fresh pine and wet earth. After a quick breakfast of slightly burnt toast that Jungkook managed to overcook while trying to do a celebratory dance in the kitchen, you both loaded up the car and drove further south, descending the winding mountain roads toward a historic coastal town known for its gorgeous beaches.

The three-hour drive was filled with more loud music and Jungkook trying to explain the entire deep history of a sci-fi video game with intense hand gestures that almost made him miss an exit, but it kept you laughing the entire way. The heavy, emotional conversation from the night before wasn't mentioned again, but something had fundamentally shifted. Every time his hand brushed yours near the gear shift, or every time he called you sweets with that low, casual roll of his voice, your stomach did a tiny, nervous flip.

It's just the post-breakup rebound brain, you told yourself firmly, staring out at the passing blue ocean. He's just my best friend being a good guy. And you were confident about that feeling.

By the time the afternoon sun was high and baking, you finally arrived at your next stop: a stunning, incredibly luxurious boutique hotel built right on the edge of a massive cliff overlooking the sparkling sea. It looked like a place where millionaires vacationed, complete with a grand marble lobby, high ceilings, and giant floor-to-ceiling glass walls showing off the crashing waves below.

"Wow," Jungkook muttered under his breath, adjusting the strap of his heavy duffel bag as you both walked across the polished floors. "You really went all out on this booking. I feel like I need to apologize to the floor for stepping on it with my sneakers."

"I saved up for six months for this specific stop," you said, pulling out your ID as you walked up to the grand marble front desk. "It was supposed to be the highlight of the trip."

The receptionist, an older woman with a very neat bun and a sharp, elegant uniform, typed into her computer. Her polite smile quickly faltered into a worried frown as she tapped the keyboard a few more times. "Oh, dear. It looks like we have a bit of a major system glitch today. Your reservation for a standard queen room was accidentally cancelled during our server update this morning."

Your stomach instantly dropped. "What? But I already received the confirmation email weeks ago. Is there another standard room?"

"I see that, and I am deeply sorry," the woman explained nicely, looking genuinely apologetic. "The issue is that we are completely booked tonight due to the local seafood festival. The absolute only room we have left available in the entire building is our top-tier Honeymoon Luxury Suite."

You winced, already anticipating the terrible answer. "How much extra is the upgrade fee?"

The receptionist checked her screen. "Normally, it is double the standard price. However, since it was our technical error, our policy allows me to give it to you for a very small, flat fee... if you are actually celebrating an anniversary or a honeymoon. It’s a strict rule for that specific luxury suite because of the promotional packages."

You opened your mouth, completely prepared to tell the truth, admit you were just friends, and accept the depressing fact that you’d probably have to spend the night sleeping in the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car down the street.

But before a single word could leave your lips, Jungkook smoothly stepped forward. Without warning, he slid a heavy, confident arm completely around your waist, yanking you firmly against his side. His grip was incredibly strong, remarkably warm, and shockingly casual, pressing your hip right against his thigh.

"Actually," Jungkook said, his voice dropping into a smooth, deeply charming register that you had never heard him use in his entire life. He looked down at you with an incredibly sweet, star-struck smile that looked terrifyingly real. "It’s our honeymoon. We literally just got married three days ago. Right, sweets?"

Your entire brain completely shutting down. Your eyes went wide with absolute shock, your body freezing under the intense heat of his arm wrapped around you. Jungkook gave your waist a subtle, firm little warning squeeze, his dark eyes pleading with you to just play along with the lie.

"Uh... yes! Absolutely!" you stammered out, forcing a high-pitched, awkward laugh that sounded completely insane to your own ears. "Yes! We are... newlyweds! Just so deeply in love. So much love between us."

The receptionist’s professional face instantly melted into a warm, excited grin. "Oh, congratulations! How absolutely wonderful. In that case, the Honeymoon Suite is officially yours, and I will waive the upgrade fee entirely as a wedding gift from the hotel management."

"Thank you so much, we really appreciate it," Jungkook said, flashing his perfect, white teeth as he took the gold room key card.

The exact millisecond the elevator doors slid shut and you were completely alone, you turned around and slapped his muscular arm hard. "Are you completely out of your mind? What was that?"

Jungkook let out a massive, booming laugh, rubbing his arm where you hit him even though it didn't hurt him at all. His arm dropped away from your waist, and you were deeply annoyed by how suddenly cold your side felt without his hand there.

"Hey! I just saved us a thousand dollars and got us a literal celebrity suite," he said proudly, jiggling the gold key card in front of your nose. "You should be thanking your highly attractive new husband."

"Don't say weird jokes like that," you mumbled, your face burning intensely hot as the elevator shot upward. "We have to keep pretending now. What if the staff sees us in the lobby later? We can't break character."

"Then we just act all lovey-dovey," Jungkook teased, leaning his face down closer to yours with a dramatic, exaggerated pout. "Do you want to practice holding hands right now? I can kiss your cheek if you want to make it look believable for the security cameras."

"Shut up, Jungkook," you laughed, shoving his broad chest away, but your stomach was doing wild, terrifying acrobatics. Touching his chest felt different now—less like a joke and more like an dangerous reminder of how solid he was.

The Honeymoon Suite was completely ridiculous. It was massive, featuring a private outdoor balcony built directly over the crashing waves, a private hot tub, and a giant king bed covered entirely in fresh, bright red rose petals shaped into a giant heart.

"Oh, man," Jungkook laughed, walking over to the bed, scooping up a handful of rose petals, and blowing them into the air like confetti. "They really went full romance mode. Look at this. It's like a movie set."

You walked past him out onto the sunlit balcony, leaning your hands against the stone railing to escape the enclosed space of the room. The view was breathtaking. The endless blue ocean stretched out to the horizon, the waves crashing loudly against the rocks far below. The salty, warm sea breeze blew through your hair, cooling your hot cheeks.

Jungkook walked out a second later, standing right next to you. He rested his muscular forearms on the railing, looking out at the water. In the bright afternoon sunlight, his profile looked incredibly sharp. The wind ruffled his dark hair, and his jawline looked striking.

"It’s really beautiful here," he said softly, turning his head to look at you.

You looked up, meeting his eyes. For a long, quiet moment, his expression wasn't playful or teasing at all. His dark eyes looked deep, intense, and incredibly serious. He stared down at you with a heavy look that made your breath completely catch in your throat.

"Yeah," you whispered, your heart thudding violently against your ribs. You were completely unsure if your brain was talking about the ocean view or the boy standing right next to you. "It really is."

Jungkook quickly cleared his throat, turning his head back to the water, a faint pink color dusting the tips of his ears.

With several hours to kill before dinner, Jungkook decided the beach was calling. He changed into a pair of simple black swim shorts and a loose white t-shirt, while you threw on a casual beach dress over your swimsuit.

The hotel's private beach was a secluded cove of soft, white sand trapped between towering cliffs. The sun was starting its slow descent, painting the sky in warm shades of gold.

"Race you to the water!" Jungkook yelled the second your feet hit the sand, completely shattering the lingering awkwardness from the balcony.

"Hey! No fair, you have longer legs!" you shrieked, running after him as he kicked off his sandals, laughing wildly.

He didn't actually dive into the water; instead, he stopped right at the shoreline, letting the cool, foamy waves lap at his ankles. When you caught up to him, out of breath and laughing, he suddenly scooped up a handful of ocean water and splashed it directly at your legs.

"Jungkook! It’s freezing!" you screamed, instantly splashing him back.

What followed was a full-scale water war. Jungkook took the brunt of your splashes, dramatically throwing his arms up and pretending to be defeated by your attacks, his loud, rich laughter echoing against the cliffs. He was careful not to splash you too hard, always making sure you were having fun.

Eventually, soaked and completely exhausted from laughing, you both collapsed onto a large beach towel you had spread out on the dry sand, just out of reach of the tide. You lay flat on your back, staring up at the golden clouds, your chest rising and falling.

Jungkook propped himself up on his elbow next to you, shaking his wet hair like a puppy, sending a few stray drops of water onto your arm.

"Hey! Watch it!" you complained, giggling as you swatted at him.

"Sorry, sweets," he chuckled, his voice soft. He didn't look away this time. He stayed propped up, his dark eyes tracing the lines of your face as you smiled. The casual use of the nickname didn't feel like a joke anymore. It felt heavy.

"You know," you said quietly, trying to keep the mood light as you stared at the sky. "My ex never wanted to go to the beach. He said sand was too messy and annoying to clean out of the car."

Jungkook let out a small, flat sound from his throat. "Like I said, the guy was a time pass. A real partner doesn't care about a little sand if it means making you laugh."

You turned your head to look at him. He was looking down at you with such an intense, steady warmth that your breath completely caught. He wasn't moving closer, he wasn't overstepping, but the emotional security he was offering you was terrifying.

Your mind instantly went into overdrive. You are just comparing him to your ex because you're hurt, you lectured yourself frantically. Don't read into it. Don't ruin the best friendship you have.

"Well," you whispered, forcing a playful smirk onto your face despite the frantic thumping of your heart. "You're definitely messy, Jeon. Look at your hair."

Jungkook blinked, the intense look dissolving into a goofy crinkle of his eyes as he rubbed his messy, wet locks. "Hey, this is beach style. People pay a lot of money for this look."

You laughed, rolling your eyes, but as you both lay there watching the sun slowly dip toward the horizon, the silence between you felt completely charged. The lines were blurring faster than you could count, and you were running out of excuses to tell your own heart.

…

The golden hue of the sunset had completely melted into a deep, velvety indigo by the time you both made it back upstairs to the Honeymoon Suite. The ocean outside was a dark, roaring shadow beneath the balcony, its rhythm steady and heavy. Inside, the room felt incredibly warm, the scent of the fresh rose petals still hanging thick and sweet in the air.

You were both completely exhausted, your skin radiating that pleasant, slightly tight heat that only comes from a full day under the summer sun and salt water.

"I am so hungry I could actually eat that wooden door frame," Jungkook groaned, throwing himself flat across the giant king bed, entirely unbothered by the fact that he was crushing the neatly arranged heart of rose petals. He splayed his arms and legs out, letting out a long, dramatic sigh into the pillows. "We need food. Immediately. If I don't get protein in the next ten minutes, I am going to wither away into a shadow."

"You're not going to wither away, you dramatic infant," you laughed, walking over to the small desk to pick up the leather-bound room service menu. "Let’s see what they have."

As you flipped through the glossy pages, your eyes widened slightly at the menu options. Because it was a dedicated luxury honeymoon suite, the room service wasn't just standard burgers and fries. Everything was explicitly organized for couples.

"Uh, Jungkook?" you called out, biting your lower lip nervously. "They have a 'Lovers' Seafood Platter' for two, a 'Sweetheart Fondue Share-Box,' and... a complimentary bottle of champagne that comes automatically with any evening dinner order for newlyweds."

Jungkook popped his head up from the pillows, his dark eyes instantly lighting up like a little kid on Christmas morning. "Complimentary champagne? And a giant platter of seafood? Sweets, call them right now. Give them the fake wedding details. Tell them we are absolutely famished from all our deep, eternal newlywed love."

"Jungkook, we are going to get caught," you warned, but a small, bubbly laugh escaped you anyway.

"We won't get caught! We are committed to the bit," he insisted, scrambling off the bed and marching over to you. He leaned his shoulder against yours, looking down at the menu over your arm. He was so close you could feel the physical heat radiating off his chest, still smelling faintly of ocean salt and his clean deodorant. "Look, just put on your best 'happily married' voice. You can do it."

With a deep breath, you picked up the vintage-style room phone and dialed the kitchen. The second the staff answered, Jungkook leaned his head right next to yours, his cheek almost brushing your ear so he could overhear the call, his quiet, bouncy giggles vibrating against your shoulder.

"Hi, yes, we’d like to order the Lovers' Seafood Platter, please," you said, trying desperately to sound mature and sophisticated while Jungkook actively made ridiculous, kissy-faces at you to try and make you crack. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block him out. "Yes, room 402. And... yes, we are the newlyweds from this afternoon. Thank you."

The second you hung up the receiver, you turned around and shoved his chest hard. "You are the absolute worst! I almost choked on my own spit because you were making those stupid faces!"

Jungkook stumbled back a step, laughing that rich, loud, bunny-toothed laugh that always made your chest feel tight. "But you didn't crack! You handled it like a professional liar. I'm proud of you, wifey."

"Stop calling me that," you mumbled, your face instantly flushing a violent, brilliant shade of pink. You quickly turned your back to him, pretending to look out the dark window so he wouldn't see the massive effect his stupid, casual jokes were having on your heart rate.

Thirty minutes later, a loud, polite knock echoed at the heavy wooden door.

"I've got it," Jungkook called out, eagerly jogging over to the entrance.

You sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, smoothing down the edges of your oversized t-shirt. The door opened, and a young hotel waiter rolled in a massive, silver room service cart covered in a white linen tablecloth. On top was an absolute mountain of fresh crab legs, grilled shrimp, oysters, and two glowing candles in glass holders. Resting in a silver bucket of crushed ice was a sweat-beaded bottle of expensive champagne.

"Complimentary champagne for the beautiful newlyweds," the waiter said with a warm, respectful bow, lifting the bottle to pop the cork with a smooth, professional pop. He poured the sparkling liquid into two elegant crystal flutes. "The hotel management hopes your marriage is as beautiful and endless as the ocean view tonight."

"Thank you, man. I appreciate it," Jungkook said smoothly.

Before the waiter could turn to leave, he glanced at the large king bed, noticing the scattered rose petals, and then he looked back at the table. He picked up a small, elegant white box from the lower shelf of the cart—something that hadn't been on the menu.

"And a special, complimentary dessert from our pastry chef," the waiter added, a knowing, slightly playful smile on his face as he placed it right between the candles. "Our signature 'Aphrodite Chocolate Molten Cake.' It is designed to be shared... with only one spoon."

You almost choked on thin air. Your eyes darted to the single, shiny silver spoon resting on top of the box.

"Perfect. My favorite," Jungkook said without skipping a single beat. He reached into his pocket, handed the waiter a very generous cash tip, and bid him a good night.

The second the door clicked shut, the room fell into a heavy, quiet stillness. The two tiny candle flames flickered gently in the draft from the balcony, casting long, dancing shadows across the dark wood walls.

Jungkook walked back over to the cart, looking down at the single spoon, then up at you. The easy, confident swagger he had used with the waiter seemed to evaporate, replaced by a sudden, slightly nervous clear of his throat.

"Well," he said, his voice dropping into a lower, quieter register as he pulled out a chair for you. "The guy said it’s a gift. It would be a crime against the pastry industry to let a chocolate cake go to waste."

"Right," you whispered, standing up on slightly shaky legs and sitting down across from him.

For the first twenty minutes, the food was the perfect distraction. You both cracked open crab legs, argued over who got the biggest grilled shrimp, and drank the bubbly champagne. Jungkook, completely true to form, ended up getting a drop of seafood sauce right on the front of his clean t-shirt, which led to a five-minute bickering match about how he was incapable of eating like a civilized human being.

It was safe. It was loud. It was exactly how you two had always been.

But then, the main platter was cleared away, leaving only the small white box in the center of the table. Jungkook reached out, his large fingers untying the silk ribbon and opening the cardboard flaps.

The dessert was beautiful—a dark, rich chocolate cake dusting with powdered sugar, its center visibly soft and oozing warm, dark chocolate fudge. And there, sitting right next to it, was the single silver spoon.

"Alright," Jungkook said, picking up the utensil. He scooped up a perfectly neat, warm bite of the cake, the rich chocolate dripping slightly. He didn't hand the spoon to you. Instead, he leaned across the small table, his dark, intense eyes locking onto yours as he held the spoon out toward your mouth. "Open up, sweets. Let's see if the chef is actually a professional."

You stared at him, your eyes wide. His large hand was incredibly steady, but you could see a tiny, barely noticeable muscle twitching in his sharp jawline. He wasn't laughing. He wasn't making a goofy face. He was looking at you with a heavy, unblinking intensity that made your entire soul feel exposed.

He’s just playing into the honeymoon joke, you tried to tell your screaming brain. It's just part of the bit.

But as you slowly leaned forward and let him slide the warm, sweet bite into your mouth, the flavor of the rich chocolate was completely overwhelmed by the sheer, terrifying proximity of his body. Your lips brushed lightly against the cold silver of the spoon, and you swore you saw Jungkook’s eyes darken for a fraction of a second, his gaze dropping straight to your mouth before snapping back to your eyes.

"Is it good?" he asked, his voice noticeably rougher, dropping into a quiet, raspy whisper that sent a sharp, electric shiver straight down your spine.

"Yeah," you breathed out, your voice barely audible over the sound of the ocean waves outside. "It’s... really good."

Jungkook didn't pull back immediately. He stayed leaning across the table, his face just inches from yours in the dim, flickering candlelight. The silence stretched between you, heavy and magnetic, pulling you both in like an undertow.

In that single, agonizingly slow second, you didn't think about your ex-boyfriend once. The memory of that eight-month relationship felt like a faint, insignificant shadow from a completely different lifetime. It hadn't been real. It hadn't been deep. It had been a time pass. But this? The wild, chaotic, terrifyingly intense heat roaring through your veins right now as you stared into Jungkook's eyes?

This was real. This was the exact feeling you had been running away from because you were too scared to admit that your best friend had the power to completely destroy your entire world with a single look.

Jungkook slowly pulled the spoon back, his thumb casually wiping away a tiny speck of chocolate from his own knuckle. He didn't take a bite for himself. He just sat back in his chair, his eyes never leaving your face, watching the deep, burning blush completely cover your cheeks.

"Good," he murmured, a small, knowing, and dangerously handsome smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Because we have a lot of cake left to finish."

…

The rich, sweet taste of the chocolate cake stayed in the air long after the silver room service cart had been pushed into the far corner of the suite. The two small candles on the table had burned down a lot. Their tiny, dying flames threw long, moving shadows across the white blanket of the giant king-sized bed.

Inside the room, the air felt completely heavy. The silence was no longer the comfortable, easy quiet of two people who had known each other since they were kids. It was thick, messy, and full of confusion. Every single sound—even the rustle of the curtains—felt entirely too loud.

You felt like you could not breathe. Your chest felt tight, and your brain was spinning out of control. Needing to escape the small room before you completely lost your mind, you stepped out onto the private balcony.

The cold air hit you like a physical shock. The big storm from the night before was completely gone, but the ocean breeze here was much stronger. It carried a sharp, icy chill. The wind blew the dark fabric of Jungkook’s massive black hoodie wildly around your legs. That heavy cotton shirt was the only warm thing you had. Far below the balcony, the dark, ink-like water of the sea slammed violently against the sharp rocks, throwing white sprays of water high into the moonlight.

You gripped the cold stone railing with both hands. Your knuckles turned completely white because you were holding on so tight. You leaned your weight forward, letting the freezing mist hit your face. You desperately wanted the cold air to fix your messy thoughts.

What are you doing? you asked yourself angrily, closing your eyes tight while your heart beat fast and hard against your ribs. He is your best friend. He is Jungkook. He is the guy who has seen you look like a total mess, the guy who used to help you with your high school homework. He is just being extra nice because your ex rejected you. Do not make this weird. If you mess this up, you will lose the only safe person you have left in your life.

But the excuse did not work anymore. It felt like a total lie. The way his dark eyes had looked at you when he fed you that single spoon of chocolate, the sudden, deep roughness in his voice—that was not just friendship. It was not a joke for the hotel staff. It was something heavy, something real, and it terrified you to your core. You were not ready for this. You were still hurting, still confused, and everything was moving way too fast.

The heavy glass sliding door behind you moved with a soft, smooth click.

You did not turn around. You did not need to. The roaring sound of the wind was incredibly loud, but your body knew exactly where he was. The familiar, comforting smell of his clean laundry and the woodsy scent of his cologne cut through the salty air instantly. It wrapped around you before he even said a word.

Jungkook walked up to the stone railing. He did not stand far away from you with a safe gap between your shoulders. Instead, he leaned his large, solid body right next to your elbow. He shifted so he was facing you completely, with his back to the dark ocean.

He had changed out of his wet beach clothes into a clean, soft white tank top and loose gray sweatpants. In the bright, clear light of the full moon, he looked completely different. The cool light showed the sharp lines of his broad shoulders, his heavy chest, and the dark tattoos wrapping all the way down his right arm. He looked so big, so real, and so grown-up.

He did not speak right away. He just stood there, his dark, heavy eyes locked onto the side of your face, watching the wind pull your hair across your cheeks. The silence stretched between you for a long, painful minute. It was full of a sad, heavy ache.

"You're hiding out here," he said quietly. His voice was not loud, and he was not smiling. The playful, goofy tone he always used was completely gone. It was low, deep, and steady.

"I am not hiding," you lied immediately. Your voice sounded small and shaky. You stubbornly kept your eyes fixed on a distant white wave out in the dark sea, completely refusing to look up at him. "I'm just looking at the water. It’s a nice view. I just wanted some fresh air."

"Sweets."

The low roll of the nickname made your stomach do a painful, panicked flip. Before you could step back or run away, Jungkook reached out. His large, warm hand gently cupped the side of your neck. His long fingers wrapped slightly around the back of your neck, and his thumb rested firmly against your jawline. The heat of his palm felt like fire against your cold skin. It sent a sharp, electric shiver straight up your spine.

Gently, but with a firm strength that you could not fight, he tilted your face up. He forced you to look away from the ocean until you had no choice but to look straight into his dark eyes.

"You've been avoiding my eyes since we ate," he said softly, his gaze searching your face with a sad, deep intensity. "Your hands are shaking. And it's not because of the cold wind."

Your breath completely caught in your throat. Up close, you could see the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. You could see a tiny, serious twitch in his jaw. He was looking at you with so much raw emotion that it made you feel completely naked.

"Jungkook, don't," you whispered. Tears of pure stress and confusion started to fill your eyes. Your hands came up instinctively, pressing against his solid chest to try and push him away, but your fingers just ended up gripping his tight tank top. "Please don't do this. We need to stop. We are just playing a game for the hotel room. We need to stop making these jokes. It’s getting way too complicated. I can't handle it."

"Do you really think I’m joking?" he asked.

The question was so quiet, and so deeply sad, that it felt like the entire world stopped moving. The loud sound of the crashing waves below seemed to disappear.

Jungkook stepped even closer, his large, broad body completely blocking the freezing sea wind from hitting you. He trapped you between his big frame and the stone railing. He let his hand drop from your jawline, but he did not move away. Instead, he slid both of his large hands down to grip your waist. His fingers dug firmly into the thick fabric of his own oversized hoodie that you were wearing.

He looked down at you, his chest rising and falling with a deep, heavy breath.

"I haven't been joking once on this entire trip," Jungkook confessed, his voice dropping into a rough whisper. "I wasn't joking when I rolled you into a blanket burrito just to see you smile. I wasn't joking when I told that woman at the desk you were my wife. And I definitely wasn't joking when we were inside that room just now."

"Jungkook, please stop," you sobbed out, a sudden wave of heavy panic and grief hitting your chest. A single, hot tear ran down your cold cheek. "You don't understand. I just broke up with someone two days ago! My brain is completely broken right now. I am a total mess. I am lonely, and my pride hurts, and everything hurts. I am just projecting these weird feelings onto you because you are here, because you are safe—"

"I don't care about him," Jungkook cut you off. His voice was not angry, but it had a fierce, heavy certainty that made your words completely drop to the floor. He squeezed your waist slightly, his thumb moving gently against your hip. "I told you, sweets. That guy was a time pass. You didn't love him. You never looked at him the way a person looks at someone they actually want to keep. You are crying because you hate being rejected, not because you miss him."

You stared at him, your lips parted, your mind completely stunned by how well he knew you.

"The only reason I stayed back and let you date him for months without saying a single word was because I was a coward," Jungkook whispered, his dark eyes dropping to your mouth for a second before snapping back up to yours. "I was terrified that if I told you the truth, if I told you that I love you, you’d get scared. I thought you would run away from me, and the thought of losing you completely was something I could not survive."

He took another deep, shaky breath. His big shoulders dropped as if he was finally letting go of a massive secret he had carried for years.

"But then I had to sit in my apartment and listen to you sob at two in the morning over a guy who didn't even care about you," he murmured, his voice cracking with real pain. "I had to watch you ruin your own happiness over a relationship that was just a boring habit. It almost drove me crazy, sweets. I can't do it anymore. I can't keep standing here pretending that you're just my buddy. I haven't looked at you like a friend in three years."

The words hit you like a physical blow to the chest.

Three years.

While you were just living your life, going on boring dates, and staying in a relationship out of pure habit, Jungkook had been standing right next to you, holding his breath, guarding his heart, and waiting for you to see him. Every single memory you had with him over the last few years—the late-night drives, the way he always brought you your favorite snacks, the way he would drop everything to come fix things in your apartment—suddenly felt completely different.

It was never just "best friend" behavior. It was real, deep, and unconditional love.

But instead of feeling happy, a massive wave of anxiety washed over you. You felt sick to your stomach. It felt too heavy. You were raw from a breakup, your life was upside down, and now your best friend—the only anchor you had left—was changing all the rules.

"Jungkook, I can't," you whispered, more tears blurring your eyes. You felt so small beneath his steady gaze. You shook your head, pulling your hands back to your own chest. "It’s too much. I'm too messed up right now. I don't know what I feel. I don't know if I'm just lonely or if I'm losing my mind. I can't give you an answer. I can't promise you anything. If I ruin this, if I ruin us, I will have nobody left."

You covered your face with your hands, your shoulders shaking as you let out a real, heavy sob. The fear in your chest was completely crushing you. You were so terrified of losing his friendship that the thought of romance felt like a dangerous trap.

Seeing your complete panic and distress, the intense look in Jungkook's eyes instantly melted away. The large, muscular guy who looked so intimidating a second ago suddenly looked incredibly soft and gentle. He realized he was pushing you too hard when you were already broken.

He immediately let go of your waist. He did not pull away completely, but he took away the pressure. He raised his large hands and gently, carefully pulled your wrists away from your face. His touch was so light, like he was handling fragile glass.

"Hey, hey. Look at me, sweets. Breathe," he murmured softly, his voice full of total warmth and comfort. He shifted closer, leaning his head down until his forehead was resting gently against yours again. He closed his eyes, letting you feel the steady, warm rhythm of his breath. "Look at me. I'm sorry. I pushed too hard."

You stayed frozen, your forehead pressed against his, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"I know your head is spinning," Jungkook whispered into the tiny space between your faces. He took one of his large hands and gently rubbed the back of your head, soothing you. "I know you just went through a breakup and you are scared. I know you're worried about ruining what we have. Hear me clearly, okay? You don't have to give me an answer tonight. You don't have to figure anything out."

He opened his eyes, staring directly into yours from inches away. His gaze was completely patient, with zero pressure.

"I don't need you to be perfect, and I don't need you to magically fall into my arms right now," he said softly, his voice ringing with absolute honesty. "I just need you to be yourself. Take all the time you need. If you need to cry about that idiot for another week, cry. If you need to just be confused, be confused. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve waited three years, sweets. I can wait a little longer."

You let out a long, shaky breath, the heavy panic in your chest slowly starting to ease. You let your head slide down from his forehead until it rested against his broad, warm shoulder. The tight, painful knot of anxiety and loneliness that had been sitting in your chest finally started to relax.

He was not forcing you to choose. He was not giving you an ultimatum. Even when he confessed his deepest feelings, his main priority was still making sure you were okay.

Jungkook let out a massive, long sigh of pure relief when he felt you relax against him. His large arms moved securely around your back, pulling your body completely against his chest. He did not hold you tight enough to scare you, but he held you close enough to let you know he was there. He rested his chin gently on top of your messy hair while the waves crashed loudly against the cliffs below.

You still did not know what the future held. You were still confused, still a bit sad, and still terrified of the new feelings blooming in your chest. But looking out into the dark, moonlit night, completely wrapped in his safe warmth, you realized you did not have to have it all figured out today. Jungkook was going to hold you until you did.

.,.

The blinding golden light of the morning sun cut straight through the floor-to-ceiling glass doors of the balcony, hitting your face and waking you up. You winced, shifting your face deeper into the pillow to escape the bright glare. Your eyes felt incredibly heavy, a bit dry and swollen from the heavy crying session on the balcony the night before.

For a few peaceful seconds, your brain was completely blank. You just felt the incredible softness of the hotel sheets and the heavy, comforting warmth of the massive king bed.

But then, the memories of the previous night came rushing back like a tidal wave, slamming straight into your chest.

Jungkook's hands on your waist. The rough, low whisper of his voice. The confession. Three years.

Your eyes snapped wide open. Your heart gave a violent, sudden thud against your ribs. You turned your head so fast your neck cracked, looking at the space right next to you on the mattress.

It was empty.

The white comforter on his side of the bed was messy and tossed aside, the spot long since cooled down. The fortress of pillows you had neatly stacked down the center of the mattress was completely destroyed, scattered across the floor like the remains of a battlefield.

A sudden, sharp wave of anxiety hit your stomach. Did he leave? Was it too awkward? Did he regret saying all of those things? You scrambled out of the bed, your legs tangling in the sheets for a second as you stood up. You were still wearing his massive black hoodie, the fabric smelling entirely like him.

"Jungkook?" you called out, your voice sounding rough and raspy from sleep.

The heavy bathroom door swung open instantly.

Jungkook stepped out into the bright bedroom, a cloud of warm, minty steam billowing out behind him. He had clearly just brushed his teeth and washed his face. He was wearing his gray sweatpants and a fresh, plain black t-shirt. His dark hair was slightly damp, sticking to his forehead in messy, boyish curls.

The second his dark eyes locked onto you, he froze right by the door frame.

The air in the room instantly grew thick and quiet. The easy, brainless routine of your old friendship felt like it was hanging by a thread. You stood by the edge of the bed, your fingers nervously pulling at the long sleeves of his hoodie, your mind racing a million miles an hour. You didn't know how to look at him. You didn't know if you should mention the balcony, or if you should pretend it was all a dream.

Jungkook analyzed your tense, rigid posture, his eyes scanning your wide, anxious eyes. A tiny, incredibly gentle look softened his sharp features. He didn't look awkward, and he didn't look regretful. He just looked patient.

He took three slow, heavy steps toward you, stopping just a few feet away so he wouldn't crowd you. He raised a hand, scratching the back of his neck, and let out a small, familiar high-pitched giggle to break the heavy silence.

"Morning, sweets," he said softly. His voice had that rough, sleepy gravel to it. "You look like you just saw a ghost. Or worse, you look like you think I’m about to force you to eat more radioactive sausages."

A tiny, involuntary laugh snorted out of your nose before you could stop it. The thick, suffocating tension in your chest cracked just a little bit, letting you breathe.

"I'm just... I'm a bit tired," you mumbled, looking down at your bare feet on the carpet. "I didn't think you'd be up so early."

"Couldn't sleep much," Jungkook admitted honestly. He didn't lie to make it easy. He stepped a tiny bit closer, his large shadow falling over you. He reached out, his warm fingers gently tapping the top of your head. "Hey. Look at me."

You slowly raised your eyes, meeting his clear, steady gaze.

"Remember what I told you last night before we went to sleep?" he asked, his tone incredibly grounded. "No pressure. Nothing changes unless you want it to. I'm still just Jungkook. I'm still the guy who is going to eat all your snacks and drive you across the country. You don't need to be weird around me."

You looked at his familiar, comforting face, and the lingering panic in your stomach finally dissolved into dust. He was giving you exactly what he promised: space to just breathe and be yourself.

"Okay," you whispered, a genuine, small smile touching your lips. "Okay."

"Good," Jungkook beamed, his massive bunny-toothed grin returning in full force, completely changing the energy of the room back to bright sunshine. "Because I ordered breakfast, and if you don't hurry up and wash your face, I am going to eat every single strip of bacon on that cart. I mean it. I’m already eyeing the plate."

An hour later, you were both back in the car, leaving the luxury hotel behind and hitting the coastal highway once again. The sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue, and the ocean sparkled like diamonds to your right.

The dynamic inside the car felt different now. The thick, heavy angst of the night before had settled into a quiet, warm hum. It wasn't the old platonic friendship, but it wasn't a rushed romance either. It was a comfortable middle ground.

Jungkook was driving with one hand on the wheel, his left arm resting on the open window frame, letting the warm summer breeze ruffle his hair. He had a playlist of soft, classic rock music playing at a reasonable volume—a compromise he made so you wouldn't complain about his 2012 girl-pop anthems.

You sat in the passenger seat, your legs curled up under you, staring at his profile. Your mind was wandering, processing everything he had said.

Three years.

You thought back to last summer, when you had first started talking to your ex. You remembered telling Jungkook about the first date. You remembered how Jungkook had gone strangely quiet for a few days, throwing himself into his gym workouts until his knuckles were raw. At the time, you thought he was just busy with work. Now, the memory made your heart ache with a deep, bittersweet pain. He had been suffering in silence, watching you walk into a relationship that wasn't even deep or real, just to keep you in his life.

"If you stare at me any harder, you're going to burn a hole right through my cheek," Jungkook said suddenly, not taking his eyes off the road but a smug, handsome smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

You jumped slightly, your cheeks instantly turning a light shade of pink. "I wasn't staring at you. Don't flatter yourself, Jeon."

"You were totally staring," he chuckled, his voice rich and happy. "It's fine. I don't blame you. The lighting today really highlights my jawline. I look like a model in this rearview mirror."

"You look like a giant dork," you rolled your eyes, grabbing a handful of sour gummy worms from the convenience store bag and tossing one directly at his shoulder.

He caught the candy with his right hand, tossing it into his mouth with a laugh. "Hey, watch the cargo! This is fuel for the captain."

As the hours passed, you noticed that while Jungkook was keeping his promise of not pushing you for answers, his behavior had subtly changed. He wasn't hiding his feelings anymore. The small boundaries he used to maintain were completely gone.

When you stopped at a scenic overlook to see the massive cliffs cutting into the ocean, the path was steep and covered in loose gravel. In the past, he would have just walked ahead, teasing you for being slow. But today, the second your sneaker slipped slightly on a rock, Jungkook’s large, warm hand was there.

He didn't just stabilize you; he locked his long fingers securely with yours, his grip firm and burning hot against your skin.

"The ground is messy here. Hold on," he said casually, his voice steady as he guided you down the path.

Your heart gave a massive, violent thud against your ribs. Your fingers felt incredibly small tangled up in his large, calloused hand. You looked down at your joined hands, your breath catching. You waited for him to let go once you reached the flat wooden viewing deck, but he didn't. He kept his fingers loosely, comfortably intertwined with yours as you both stood by the wooden railing, looking out at the endless blue horizon.

It felt entirely natural, yet completely terrifying. It felt like a glimpse into a reality where you were completely taken care of, completely valued.

You glanced up at him. Jungkook was looking out at the water, the bright sun highlighting the strong bridge of his nose and his sharp jaw. He wasn't looking at you to see your reaction. He was just holding your hand because he wanted to, because he finally could.

"My ex hated stops like this," you whispered quietly, the thought slipping out of your mouth before you could stop it. The sorrow of the past relationship was still lingering like a faint shadow, a habit you were trying to break. "He always said if we stop every thirty miles, we'll never make it to the destination on time. He hated wasting minutes."

Jungkook’s grip on your hand tightened just a fraction, a reassuring, heavy squeeze. He didn't turn his head, but his voice dropped into that low, serious register that made your soul quiet down.

"The destination doesn't matter if you're rushing through the whole journey, sweets," he said softly. "The whole point of a road trip is to look at the views. If a guy is too busy looking at his watch to enjoy standing next to you at a place like this... he’s missing the entire point of living."

You stared at his profile, your eyes widening slightly as his words cut straight through your lingering self-doubt. The realization hit you with a massive, undeniable weight. Your ex hadn't just been a "time pass"—he had been a completely wrong fit. You had been trying to force your vibrant, messy life into a tiny, rigid box for eight months. And right next to you, the entire time, was a boy who was willing to stop at every single scenic overlook just to hold your hand and watch the wind blow through your hair.

The fear of ruining the friendship was still there, a tiny, nervous flutter in your stomach. But looking at your joined hands, the warmth spreading up your arm, you felt a new, quiet feeling starting to bloom. It was a small spark of hope.

By the time the afternoon began to fade into a soft, hazy orange sunset, you arrived at the final destination of the road trip: a sleepy, beautiful beach town famous for its outdoor night markets and boardwalks.

The hotel this time was a small, cozy motel right on the beach front. And thankfully, the booking system worked perfectly. You had a room with two separate queen-sized beds, separated by a wide, safe nightstand.

"See? No single-bed drama tonight," you joked, throwing your small backpack onto the bed closest to the window. "You're safe from my blanket-stealing crimes."

Jungkook dropped his heavy black duffel bag onto the opposite bed, leaning his hips against the mattress as he looked over at you. The golden light of the sunset filtered through the window blinds, casting long amber stripes across his face.

"Honestly? I'm kind of disappointed," he teased, a playful, wicked glint in his dark eyes. "The pillow fortress from last night had character. It was an excellent defensive structure."

"You are ridiculous," you laughed, grabbing a fresh change of clothes from your suitcase. "I'm going to change, and then we are going to that boardwalk market. I want fried food and I want it now."

"Your wish is my command, sweets," he chuckled, bowing dramatically as you walked into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, you emerged wearing a simple white sundress and denim jacket, your hair tied up into a loose, messy bun. Jungkook had changed into a clean, oversized vintage t-shirt and dark shorts. He looked completely relaxed, entirely handsome, and totally ready to cause chaos at the night market.

The boardwalk was alive with energy. Bright neon lights from the game booths reflected off the dark ocean water, and the air was thick with the delicious, mouth-watering smell of fried funnel cakes, hot churros, and grilled skewers. Music from the old carousel echoed through the crowd, mixed with the loud laughter of families and couples walking along the wooden planks.

"Alright, first stop," Jungkook declared, grabbing your wrist and dragging you straight toward a stall with a giant sign that read Fried Everything. "We are getting the giant funnel cake with extra powdered sugar. No arguments."

"I would never argue against sugar, Jeon," you said, matching his fast pace.

You spent the next hour walking through the crowds, completely stuffing your faces with junk food. Jungkook ended up getting powdered sugar all over the front of his black t-shirt within two minutes, which led to you standing in the middle of the boardwalk, giggling uncontrollably as you used a wet napkin to wipe his chest down while he whined about his ruined style.

As you wiped the white powder away, your hand brushed against the firm, warm muscle of his chest, right over his beating heart. You froze for a split second, your eyes lifting to meet his. Jungkook was looking down at you, his breathing a little shallow, his dark eyes intensely focused on your hands against his shirt.

The bustling noise of the night market seemed to blur away for that tiny second, leaving just the heavy, magnetic heat between you. You quickly pulled your hand back, clearing your throat nervously as you tossed the napkin into a nearby bin.

"There. You're clean," you whispered, your heart doing that familiar, frantic dance.

"Thanks," he murmured, his voice low.

To break the sudden, thick tension, Jungkook quickly pointed a finger at a massive game booth down the boardwalk. The booth was filled with giant, oversized stuffed animals, and a loud announcer was challenging people to hit a target with a baseball.

"Look at that giant purple plush bunny," Jungkook said, his eyes narrowing like a professional athlete entering an arena. "It looks exactly like me. I need to win it for you."

"Jungkook, those games are completely rigged," you laughed, trying to pull him back. "The balls are weighted, and the targets are tiny. You're just going to waste your money."

"Are you doubting my athletic abilities?" He gasped dramatically, slapping a hand over his heart. "Excuse me? I have perfect aim. Watch and learn, sweets."

He marched straight up to the booth, pulling out his wallet and paying the announcer for three throws. A small crowd of teenagers stopped to watch, noticing how big and focused Jungkook looked as he picked up the first wooden baseball.

He balanced his weight, his broad shoulders flexing beneath his t-shirt as he drew his arm back. With a sudden, lightning-fast motion, he threw the ball.

CRASH.

The ball hit the center target perfectly, the loud sound echoing across the boardwalk. The crowd let out a small cheer. Jungkook didn't even smile; he just picked up the second ball, his expression completely serious, his eyes locked onto the prize. He threw it again.

CRASH.

The second target shattered down. The announcer looked genuinely shocked. By the time Jungkook threw the third ball, hitting the final target dead-center, the entire booth area erupted into loud cheers and applause.

Jungkook finally relaxed, turning his head toward you with a massive, arrogant, and entirely endearing smirk. He puffed his chest out dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows. "Rigged? Please. The targets never stood a chance against the Jeon precision."

The announcer grumbled, reaching up to the high ceiling to pull down the massive, giant purple plush bunny. It was almost as big as you were, incredibly soft and completely ridiculous. He dumped it into Jungkook’s arms.

Jungkook carried the giant bunny over to you, struggling to see over the massive plush head. He shoved the giant toy into your arms, wrapping your hands around the soft fabric.

"Here," he said, his voice instantly softening as he looked down at you. The arrogant game-winner energy vanished, replaced by that quiet, deep warmth that always made your knees weak. "A line of defense for your bed tonight. Since we don't have the pillow fortress anymore."

You gripped the massive, soft bunny against your chest, burying your face in the purple faux fur for a second to hide the massive, completely overwhelmed smile pulling at your lips. The fear, the ghost of your ex-boyfriend—everything was completely losing its grip on you. Standing under the bright neon lights of the boardwalk, holding a giant prize won by the boy who had loved you silently for three years, you realized your heart was no longer breaking.

It was healing. And it was healing fast.

"Thank you, Jungkook," you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes.

Jungkook reached out, his large, warm hand gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering against your cheek for a single, beautiful second. "Anytime, sweets. Anytime."

…

The giant purple plush bunny was entirely too massive. As you both walked away from the noisy game booth, you had to hold the heavy toy with both arms just to keep it from dragging across the sticky wooden planks of the boardwalk. Jungkook walked right beside you, his hands shoved casually into his shorts pockets, a smug and completely satisfied smile resting on his face. Every time a group of teenagers walked past and stared at the ridiculous size of your prize, he would puff his broad chest out just a little bit more.

"You are going to develop a permanent posture problem if you keep walking like that," you teased, nudging his arm with the side of the giant stuffed ear.

"I am walking with the swagger of a champion," Jungkook corrected smoothly, his voice full of rich, bouncy laughter. "Do you know how hard it is to hit three targets in a row with weighted baseballs? The announcer looked like he wanted to cry when he had to hand that bunny over. I basically pulled off a heist."

"You spent fifteen dollars on a toy that probably cost two dollars to make," you retorted, though you couldn't stop the massive, happy smile from taking over your face.

"Money is temporary, sweets. But the glory of winning a giant purple defense system for your bedroom? That is eternal," he chuckled, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at you.

The night market was starting to slow down as the clock moved past eleven. The heavy crowds of families were thinning out, leaving behind mostly young couples walking hand-in-hand beneath the glowing strands of yellow fairy lights. The salty sea breeze was picking up again, bringing the loud, rhythmic sound of the dark waves crashing against the wooden pillars beneath the boardwalk.

At the very end of the pier, towering over the edge of the water, sat the grand finale of the beach town: a massive, old-fashioned Ferris wheel. Its neon lights were a beautiful mix of soft pinks, deep blues, and warm golds, spinning slowly against the dark velvet sky.

Jungkook stopped walking, his eyes tracking the slow rotation of the giant wheel. He turned his head to look at you, his expression softening as the multi-colored lights danced across his sharp jawline.

"We have one more stop before we go back to the motel," he said softly, pointing a finger toward the ticket booth of the ride. "Come on."

"Jungkook, it’s late," you murmured, a sudden, familiar flutter of nervous anxiety hitting your stomach. "And I’m carrying a stuffed animal the size of a refrigerator. We won't even fit in the bucket."

"We will make it fit," he insisted, not taking no for an answer. He reached out, his large, warm hand wrapping firmly around your wrist to gently drag you toward the line.

Five minutes later, you were officially crammed into a small, swinging metal carriage. Jungkook’s prediction had been slightly wrong—the space was incredibly tight. The giant purple bunny had to be stuffed vertically between your knees, its massive plush head completely blocking the view to your left. Because the toy took up more than half the bench, you and Jungkook were forced to sit completely flush against each other on the remaining side.

His muscular thigh was pressed tightly against yours, the heat of his skin burning right through his shorts. His broad shoulder was tucked firmly beneath your own, his large frame completely surrounding you in the small metal car.

A loud, metallic clunk echoed through the air as the ride operator locked the safety bar into place. With a slow, jerky shudder, the Ferris wheel began to lift you up into the night.

As the carriage climbed higher and higher, the noisy sounds of the boardwalk games and the shouting announcers began to fade away into a quiet, distant hum. The view expanded infinitely. To your right, the tiny neon lights of the beach town looked like scattered jewels on black velvet. To your left, the endless, dark ocean stretched out into the horizon, reflecting the bright silver light of the full moon.

You leaned your head slightly against the cold metal mesh of the carriage, letting out a long, quiet breath. The beauty of the view was breathtaking, but your brain was completely unable to focus on it. You were entirely, terrifyingly aware of Jungkook’s breathing right next to you. You could feel the steady, heavy rise and fall of his chest against your shoulder, the faint, comforting scent of his woodsy cologne completely trapped inside the small space.

The carriage suddenly groaned, stopping dead right at the very top of the wheel. You were suspended hundreds of feet in the air, dangling directly over the crashing black waves below.

The silence up here was absolute. The wind blew softly through the open sides of the car, rattling the metal chains above your head.

"Are you scared of heights?" Jungkook’s voice cut through the quiet. It wasn't his loud, teasing voice anymore. It was low, rough, and incredibly gentle, dropping into that serious register that always made your knees feel weak.

You turned your head to look at him. Because of how tightly you were crammed together, his face was only inches from yours. The soft, rotating neon pink light from the wheel lit up his features, catching the dark depth of his eyes and the slight, nervous parted line of his lips. He was staring directly at you, completely ignoring the beautiful ocean view behind your head.

"A little bit," you whispered honestly, your throat feeling suddenly dry. "It feels like we're just dangling in the middle of nowhere."

Jungkook didn't say a word. Instead, he slowly shifted his right hand from his lap. His large, warm fingers slipped down the side of the seat, sliding directly over yours. He didn't just hold your hand loosely this time. He slid his long fingers between yours, locking them together in a tight, heavy grip that felt incredibly secure. His palm was burning hot against your cold skin.

"I’ve got you," he murmured, his dark eyes never leaving your face. "You're not going to fall, sweets. I won't let you."

Your heart gave a violent, massive thud against your ribs. The confusion that had been swirling in your head for the last three days suddenly tightened into a painful, beautiful knot right in the center of your chest.

You looked down at your joined hands resting on top of the purple plush fabric of the toy. His hand was so much larger than yours, his veins showing slightly against the back of his skin, his grip holding you like you were the most precious thing in the entire universe.

"Jungkook," you said softly, your voice trembling a little as the heavy emotion threatened to spill over. "I'm sorry."

Jungkook tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "Sorry for what?"

"For being so messy," you whispered, looking up to meet his eyes through the dim pink light. "For making you drive me across the country while I cried over a guy I didn't even care about. For being so confused and scared right now. You’ve been waiting for three years... and I feel like I'm ruining everything because I don't know how to fix my own head yet."

The heavy silence returned, hanging between you as the wind blew past the carriage.

Jungkook stared at you for a long, unblinking moment. The patience in his eyes was so deep it made your chest ache. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his left hand from the safety bar. He reached across the small space, his large thumb gently pressing against your chin, tilting your face just a fraction closer to his. His touch was incredibly soft, completely devoid of his usual clumsy energy.

"Look at me," he commanded softly.

You looked, your eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears.

"You are not ruining anything," Jungkook said, his voice ringing with absolute, unshakable certainty. "I told you last night on the balcony, and I mean it. I don't need you to have a perfect, healed brain right now. I don't need you to give me an anniversary date or a promise. I am here because I want to be here. I am holding your hand because it’s the only place I’ve wanted my hand to be for three years."

He took a deep, heavy breath, his chest brushing slightly against your arm as he leaned in just a millimeter closer.

"The last three days haven't been a burden to me, sweets," he whispered, his gaze dropping to your lips for a single, torturous second before snapping back to your eyes. "Watching you finally realize that you deserve better than a guy who treats you like a chore? Watching you laugh until your stomach hurts on the highway? That is the best thing that has happened to me in years. You are not a mess to me. You are just you."

A single, hot tear finally slipped out of your eye, running down your cheek. Jungkook didn't hesitate. He used the pad of his thumb to gently wipe the moisture away, his skin lingering against your cheekbone, his touch leaving a trail of absolute fire behind.

"So stop apologizing," he murmured, his voice dropping into a rough, raspy register that sent a violent shiver straight down your spine. "Take all the time you need to figure things out. Cry if you need to. Be scared if you need to. But don't you dare think you are ruining us. We are completely fine."

You stared at him, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The lingering memory of your ex-boyfriend, the eight months of that empty, boring relationship out of habit—it completely dissolved into nothingness. It didn't exist anymore. The only reality that mattered was the boy sitting inches from you at the top of the world, holding your hand like a lifeline and offering you a love so deep it completely terrified you.

You didn't know what to say. The fear of ruining the friendship were still humming quietly in the back of your mind, but the sheer emotional safety he was giving you was completely overwhelming the doubt. Slowly, without thinking, you let your head lean sideways, resting your cheek gently against his broad, solid shoulder.

Jungkook stiffened for a fraction of a second, completely caught off guard by your sudden movement. Then, a long, heavy sigh of absolute relief escaped his lips. He shifted his arm, wrapping it securely around your shoulders, pulling you completely against his side as the Ferris wheel finally shuddered and began its slow descent back toward the earth.

He didn't press for more. He didn't try to kiss you. He just held you tight against his chest, his large hand still firmly locked with yours on top of the giant purple bunny.

…

The quiet of the motel room felt completely different from the loud, bright chaos of the boardwalk. When Jungkook clicked the heavy lock of the door into place, the sudden silence was deafening. The only sound was the low, steady hum of the old air conditioning unit beneath the window and the distant, muffled crash of the ocean waves against the sand outside.

The room was basic and cozy, illuminated only by the amber glow of a single streetlamp filtering through the plastic window blinds. Two queen-sized beds stood side-by-side, separated by a wide, dark wooden nightstand that felt like a physical boundary between your old life and whatever was happening now.

You walked over to the bed closest to the window, carefully lifting the massive purple plush bunny and sitting it upright against the headboard. It looked completely ridiculous under the dim light, its giant ears flopping forward as if it were guarding the mattress.

"Well," you said, your voice sounding incredibly small in the quiet room. "The fortress is officially in place."

Jungkook chuckled softly, dropping his heavy black duffel bag onto his own mattress with a dull thud. He stood by the edge of his bed, hands resting on his hips as his dark eyes locked onto you. The playful, confident guy from the boardwalk was gone, replaced by the quiet, intensely patient man from the Ferris wheel.

"I'm going to change into something comfortable. Don't eat all the sour worms while I'm gone."

"No promises, sweets," he teased, though his eyes stayed fixed on your face until you closed the bathroom door behind you.

Inside the small, brightly lit bathroom, you leaned against the sink and stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were still flushed from the cold sea wind, and your eyes looked bright—no longer heavy with the messy tears of a painful breakup, but wide with a quiet, lingering shock. You touched your fingers to your chin, right where his large, warm thumb had rested just twenty minutes ago at the top of the Ferris wheel.

He loved you. He had loved you for three long years, through every boring date, every casual conversation, and every single time you had complained about your empty relationship. He had stood right next to you, holding his breath, just waiting for you to see him.

You let out a long, shaky breath, quickly changing into a pair of soft gray sweatpants and a loose, oversized t-shirt. By the time you turned off the bathroom light and stepped back into the bedroom, Jungkook had already changed into his favorite soft black sweatpants and was lying flat on his back on his own bed. He had his arms tucked behind his head, his dark eyes staring blankly at the popcorn texture of the ceiling.

The room was completely dark now, saved only by the thin stripes of amber light cutting across the carpet from the window.

You silently crawled under the crisp white sheets of your own bed, pulling the heavy comforter up to your chin. You turned your body onto your side, facing his direction, your eyes adjusting to the shadows.

For a long time, neither of you said a word. The silence stretched out until the ticking of the small digital clock on the nightstand felt like a countdown.

"Sweets?" Jungkook’s voice suddenly broke the quiet. It was barely a whisper, rough and incredibly raw, cutting through the hum of the air conditioner.

"Yeah?" you replied instantly, your heart giving a small, nervous skip.

You saw his silhouette shift in the dark. Jungkook turned his heavy frame onto his side, propping his head up with his right hand, facing you. In the dim light, you could see the dark, serious outline of his features and the glint of the moonlight reflecting in his wide pupils.

"Are you still thinking about him?" he asked quietly. There was no jealousy in his tone, no anger. It was just a question born out of pure, unprotected vulnerability. He sounded entirely human, entirely stripped of his usual confident armor.

You stared at him through the shadows, your fingers tightly gripping the edge of your blanket. You thought about your ex. You tried to find the familiar, sharp ache of rejection that had crushed you just three days ago in your apartment. But when you searched your mind, there was nothing left but an empty, hollow memory. The ghost of that relationship had completely vanished, replaced entirely by the warmth of Jungkook’s large hand holding yours against the dark ocean sky.

"No," you whispered honestly, the truth feeling like a massive weight lifting off your chest. "I'm not thinking about him at all. I haven't thought about him since we got on the highway today."

Jungkook let out a long, slow breath in the dark, his broad shoulders visibly relaxing against the mattress. "Good. Because he didn't deserve a single one of your thoughts anyway."

A small, bittersweet ache filled your chest as you watched him. "Jungkook... how did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Three years," you murmured, your voice cracking slightly with a sudden wave of heavy emotion. "How did you sit across from me at dinner, or watch movies with me on my couch, while I was completely blind? How did you manage to just stay my friend without letting it ruin you?"

Jungkook was quiet for a long, agonizing minute. The only sound was the distant crash of the waves outside. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, rougher, and thick with an honesty that made your throat tighten.

"It was hard," he confessed softly, his eyes never leaving yours through the dark space between the beds. "The first few months were the worst. Every time you talked about a guy you met at a coffee shop, or every time you got dressed up to go on a first date, I used to go back to my apartment and just stare at my phone, hating myself for being too scared to speak up."

He shifted slightly, his long fingers mindlessly tracing a pattern against his own pillowcase.

"But then I realized something," he whispered, his tone dropping into a deeply tender register. "Being just your friend, being the guy who got to hear your voice at two in the morning when you couldn't sleep, or the guy who got to make you laugh when you had a bad day at work... that was still better than anything else in my life. I was terrified that if I pushed you, if I told you that I wanted to hold you and kiss you, you'd get uncomfortable. You'd pull away. And the idea of a world where you don't talk to me? That was a thousand times worse than the pain of keeping it a secret."

The weight of his devotion hit you like a physical wave. Tears of pure, overwhelming emotion welled up in your eyes, blurring the sight of his silhouette in the dark. While you had been settling for a casual, empty relationship out of pure habit, Jungkook had been quietly, fiercely protecting your bond, placing your comfort entirely above his own heart.

"I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner," you choked out, a single tear escaping and dampening your pillow. "I'm sorry I was so stupid."

"Hey," Jungkook murmured instantly, his tone shifting into that urgent, protective warmth. He sat up completely, swinging his long legs over the edge of his bed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring across the wide gap at you. "Don't say that. I didn't tell you all of this to make you feel guilty, sweets. I told you because I wanted you to understand that you are worth the wait. Every single second of it."

You stared up at him from your pillow, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The physical distance between the two queen beds suddenly felt entirely too far. The old rules of your friendship, the safe boundaries you had lived behind for years, felt like paper walls ready to burn down. You didn't want the wide nightstand separating you tonight. You didn't want to be alone with the lingering anxiety of the past. You just wanted his warmth. You wanted his safety.

Slowly, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs, you lifted the heavy comforter and sat up.

Jungkook froze, his dark eyes tracking your movements in the shadows as you slid out from beneath your sheets. Your bare feet hit the cold carpet. Without saying a word, you walked across the narrow space separating the two beds, stopping right in front of him.

He looked up at you, his chest rising and falling heavily, his sharp jaw tight with a sudden, intense tension. He didn't move, completely holding his breath as if he were terrified that any sudden gesture would scare you away.

"Can I..." your voice trembled, your hand nervously gesturing to the empty space on his mattress. "Can I just stay here tonight? I don't want to be on that side of the room."

Jungkook didn't hesitate for even a millisecond. He instantly shifted his large body backward, pulling his blankets aside to create a wide, welcoming space right next to him. "Come here," he whispered, his voice incredibly rough.

You crawled onto his bed, the sheets smelling intensely of his familiar, woodsy cologne. You lay down on your side, curling your knees up slightly. Jungkook moved carefully, lying down right beside you. He didn't force a heavy embrace, and he didn't try to pull you into a passionate hold. True to his promise, he gave you the space to just be yourself.

Instead, he reached out in the dark, his large, warm hand finding yours beneath the blanket. He slid his long fingers between yours, locking them securely in that same heavy, burning grip from the Ferris wheel. He pulled your joined hands up, resting them right against the center of his chest, right over the steady, rapid thumping of his heart.

He leaned his forehead forward, resting it gently against the top of your head, his warm breath fanning through your messy hair.

"I've got you," he murmured softly into the dark room, his grip on your hand tightening with a reassuring, heavy squeeze. "Just close your eyes, sweets. I'm right here. No pressure, remember? We have all the time in the world."

You closed your eyes, letting out a long, shaky sigh as the very last remnants of your post-breakup loneliness completely dissolved into the mattress. Listening to the heavy, rhythmic beat of his heart beneath your fingers, completely surrounded by his protective warmth, the fear of the future finally went quiet. You didn't know what tomorrow would look like, and you didn't know how long it would take to fix your scrambled thoughts, but as you drifted off to sleep in the quiet beach motel, you knew one thing for certain.

The road trip wasn't an escape anymore. It was the moment you finally came home.

…

The soft, rhythmic rumble of the ocean waves outside the window was the first thing that drifted into your consciousness. It was followed closely by a heavy, radiating warmth that completely enveloped your entire body. As your eyes slowly blinked open against the dim morning light filtering through the plastic blinds, you didn't feel the cold, empty space of a lonely hotel bed.

Instead, you were completely anchored.

You were tucked firmly against Jungkook’s broad chest. His left arm was wrapped securely around your waist, his large palm resting flat against your lower back, holding you flush against his solid frame. Your own hand was still resting over his heart, your fingers loosely tangled in the soft cotton of his black t-shirt. He had one of his long legs hooked over yours, completely trapping you in a lazy, heavy embrace that felt entirely unbreakable.

You stayed perfectly still, your breath catching in your throat as the realization of where you were settled in.

Slowly, carefully, you tilted your head back to look at him.

Jungkook was already awake. He was propped up slightly against his pillow, his dark hair a messy, wild halo of bedhead curls sticking up in every direction. The soft, grayish light of the early morning highlighted the relaxed lines of his face, making him look incredibly young and soft. He wasn't looking at the window or his phone. He was just staring down at you, his dark eyes full of a quiet, unblinking adoration that made your stomach do a sudden, violent flip.

The second he noticed you moving, a tiny, incredibly tender smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His voice, when he spoke, was a deep, gravelly morning rasp that vibrated directly against your chest.

"Morning, sweets," he whispered softly, his large hand on your back giving you a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "You sleep okay?"

"Yeah," you murmured, your voice sounding small and sleepy. You looked down at his chest, your cheeks warming up. "How long have you been awake?"

"About an hour," he admitted with a tiny, boyish giggle. He didn't move his arm, keeping you locked against him. "My arm went completely numb twenty minutes ago, but you looked so peaceful I didn't want to move. I was ready to let it fall off for the cause."

A genuine laugh spilled out of your mouth, the lingering angst of waking up in his bed instantly evaporating. "You are such a dork, Jeon. You should have just pushed me off."

"Never," he murmured, his tone suddenly dropping into that low, serious register that made your heart pound. He raised his right hand, his long fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from your eyes. His touch was incredibly light, his thumb lingering against your temple. "I could stay right here for a week."

You stared at him, your breath shallow, the sheer emotional weight of his presence completely overwhelming your lingering doubts. For eight months, you had woken up next to a man who felt like a stranger, a relationship that felt like a daily obligation. But here, in a cheap beach motel room with your childhood best friend, you felt entirely seen, entirely valued, and completely safe.

"Jungkook," you said softly, your fingers tightening slightly against his shirt. "Let's go to the beach. Before we have to pack up the car."

His eyes softened, a warm, supportive look taking over his face. "Whatever you want, sweets. Let's go."

…

You walked slowly along the water's edge, your sneakers sinking slightly into the wet sand. You were wearing his massive black hoodie again over your clothes, the long sleeves pulled down past your knuckles to protect your hands from the freezing wind.

Jungkook walked right beside you, his hands shoved deep into his shorts pockets, his broad shoulders hunched slightly against the breeze. He was keeping a respectful foot of space between your shoulders, true to his promise of letting you set the pace.

"It’s beautiful out here," you whispered, watching a white seagull glide low over the water.

"Yeah, it is," Jungkook said. But when you glanced over at him, he wasn't looking at the ocean. He was looking at you, his expression quiet and thoughtful.

A sudden, sharp wave of reality hit your chest, bringing back a faint hint of the familiar angst. The road trip was ending today. The beautiful escape of the highway, the luxury hotel rooms, and the neon lights of the boardwalk were over. By this afternoon, you would be driving back into the city, back to your actual lives, your apartments, and the regular routine.

"Jungkook," you started, your voice dropping as you stopped walking. You turned to face him, the wind pulling strands of hair across your face. "What happens when we go back?"

Jungkook stopped immediately, shifting his large body so he was blocking the harsh wind from hitting you directly. He looked down at you, his brow furrowing slightly in concern. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... when we get back to the city," you mumbled, looking down at your sneakers in the sand. "We have to go back to our normal lives. People are going to ask about the breakup. My ex might try to call me to get his things. And... I don't want us to become weird. I don't want to lose the easy way we used to talk just because everything is shifting."

The silence stretched between you, heavy with the fear of the future. You were terrified that once the magic of the road trip faded, the reality of changing a three-year friendship would become too heavy to handle.

Jungkook didn't answer right away. He slowly stepped closer, closing the distance between you until he was standing just inches away. He reached out, his large, warm hands coming up to gently grab the sides of your hood, pulling the thick black fabric securely around your ears to shield you from the cold breeze.

"Look at me, sweets," he commanded softly, his dark eyes completely locking onto yours with an absolute, unshakable intensity.

You raised your head, your eyes wide and a little glassy.

"Nothing is going to change unless you want it to," Jungkook said, his voice ringing with a deep, grounded certainty. "When we get back, I’m still going to be the guy who comes over at midnight to fix your broken kitchen cabinet. I’m still the guy who is going to text you stupid memes during your lunch break. The city doesn't change who we are."

He squeezed the fabric of your hood gently, his thumbs resting against the sides of your jawline.

"If you need me to just be your best friend for the next month while you sort through your brain, I will be your best friend," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly with a raw, unprotected vulnerability.

"If you need me to take you out on a proper, real date, I will do that too. I've spent three years guarding my heart around you, sweets. I am not going to run away or get weird just because we crossed the city limits. I am entirely yours. In the motel room, on the highway, or back in our apartments. You don't have to carry the pressure of fixing everything today."

The honesty in his words cut straight through the very last layer of your self-doubt. The lingering anxiety of the past relationship, the fear of making a mistake, the ghost of your old life—it all completely collapsed under the weight of his unconditional devotion. He wasn't asking you to be perfect. He was just asking you to let him hold you.

A sudden, fierce wave of clarity washed over you. You didn't want to wait anymore. You didn't want to let the fear of tomorrow ruin the beautiful, undeniable truth of what was standing right in front of you.

Slowly, your hands came out from the long sleeves of his hoodie. Your fingers were trembling slightly, but your movement was entirely deliberate. You reached up, your hands pressing against his broad, solid chest, feeling the rapid, frantic thumping of his heart beneath his t-shirt.

Jungkook completely froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes widening in total shock as you stepped even closer, your shoes touching his.

"Jungkook," you whispered, your voice thick with a beautiful, heavy emotion as you looked straight into his dark eyes. "I don't want to wait a month."

Before he could even process your words, you stood up on your tiptoes. You closed the tiny remaining gap between your faces, leaning up until your lips gently, softly pressed against his.

The touch was light, tentative, and full of a deep, lingering angst—a silent question asked after three years of waiting. His lips were incredibly soft, warm against the chilly morning air, smelling faintly of the minty toothpaste from the motel room.

For a split second, Jungkook stayed completely rigid, his mind entirely blown, as if he couldn't believe this was actually happening. But then, a low, ragged groan escaped his throat.

The hesitation vanished instantly.

His large hands dropped from your hood, sliding down to wrap fiercely around your waist. He lifted you slightly off your feet, pulling your body completely against his broad frame with a sudden, desperate strength. He leaned his head down, deepening the kiss with a raw, burning intensity that left you completely breathless. It wasn't a rushed or aggressive touch; it was a deeply passionate, emotional release of three years of unspoken love, poured entirely into the quiet morning air.

Your hands slid up his chest, wrapping securely around the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his messy, damp curls as you melted completely into his warmth.

When he finally pulled back, just a fraction of an inch, his forehead rested gently against yours. His breathing was heavy and ragged, his large hands still gripping your waist tightly as if he were terrified you would disappear if he let go. A massive, breathless smile broke across his handsome face, his dark eyes shining with a pure, unadulterated happiness that completely lit up the entire beach.

"Sweets," he whispered against your lips, his voice rough and completely dazed. "If this is a dream, do not wake me up. I mean it. I will sleep forever."

You let out a soft, happy laugh, burying your face into the warm crook of his neck, your arms wrapping securely around his broad shoulders.

You had finally found your destination.

…

The steady, quiet rhythm of a late-night June rain was the only sound left in the apartment. Outside the large window, the city was just a blurry mix of red, yellow, and blue lights reflecting on the wet streets far below. The cars moved slowly through the puddles, their headlights cutting through the dark gray fog. Inside, your living room felt like a completely different world. It was warm, cozy, and quiet, lit only by the soft amber glow of a single ceramic floor lamp standing in the corner.

A full month had passed since the road trip had ended. The sudden, chaotic explosion of your old breakup had finally settled into distant history. The boxes of your ex-boyfriend's things were gone, the keys had been handed back, and the tears had completely dried up. You had both fallen back into your regular city routines. You spent your days focusing on your work, organizing your schedules, and managing your independent business projects. Jungkook went right back to his high-volume photography and graphic design work, his calendar packed with studio shoots and editing sessions.

But absolutely nothing about the space between you two felt regular anymore.

You were sitting flat on the thick, plush rug in the center of the room, your back resting against the bottom base of the couch. Spread out all around your legs was a large, messy binder filled with business papers, menu printouts, and cost spreadsheets. Your fingers traced the edge of a white paper, trying to read the lines of text, but your mind was not processing a single word or number. Every single ounce of your focus was dialed entirely into the heavy, solid presence of the boy sitting right above you on the cushions.

Jungkook was stretched out lazily across the sofa, his long legs taking up almost the entire length of the cushions. He was wearing an old, faded gray tank top that showed off the heavy, defined muscles of his shoulders and the intricate, dark patterns of the tattoo sleeve wrapping all the way down his right arm. His laptop rested heavily on his muscular thighs, and his large fingers clicked the trackpad every now and then, slowly moving through a batch of street photographs he had taken earlier that week.

For twenty long minutes, neither of you had said a single word.

In the past, a long silence like this would have been entirely brainless and comfortable. You would have been scrolling through social media on your phone, he would have been playing a video game on his console, and the air in the room would have felt light and easy. You wouldn't have thought twice about sitting together without talking. But tonight, the silence felt thick. It felt like a physical weight pressing down on the air, heavy with a new, simmering undercurrent of raw, unhurried tension that seemed to grow stronger with every single tick of the wall clock.

You shifted your position on the floor, trying to ease the sudden tightness in your chest. As you moved your legs under the binder, your shoulder accidentally brushed against the hard, warm line of his shin resting right against the edge of the couch cushions.

Jungkook did not move his leg away. In fact, the moment your skin made contact with his, his fingers stopped clicking the mouse completely. The small tapping sound vanished, making the room feel even quieter than before.

Slowly, deliberately, Jungkook lowered his laptop screen by a fraction of an inch. His dark, heavy eyes slid down from the monitor, tracking across the top of your head before locking onto the side of your face. He did not say anything at first. He just watched you through the dim light, his jawline sharp and tight, his breathing deep, slow, and steady.

"You've been rewriting that exact same line on your menu for ten minutes, sweets," he said softly. His voice was a low, sleepy gravel that vibrated right through the couch cushions against your back, sending a sudden, sharp shiver straight down your spine.

"I have not," you muttered quickly, stubbornly keeping your eyes fixed on the paper in front of you, even though your heart rate was already starting to speed up. "I am checking the prices and verifying the math. Some of us actually have to work for a living instead of just playing with photo filters and sliders all day."

A low, deep rumble of a laugh vibrated in his broad chest. "Photo filters? Is that seriously what you think I do all day in the studio?"

"Basically," you teased, finally turning your head slightly to look up at him through your eyelashes. You were trying hard to bring back the safe, funny armor of your old friendly bickering, desperately wanting to break the heavy mood. "You just make the pretty pictures look a little more blue or a little more yellow. A child could do it, Jeon."

Jungkook’s lips parted into a slow, dangerously handsome smirk. He shifted his weight, closing his laptop with a soft click and setting it down on the opposite end of the couch. He leaned his forearms onto his bare knees, bending his large upper body forward until his face was only a foot away from yours, looking down at you from over the edge of the velvet cushions.

"A child, huh?" he murmured, his dark eyes glinting with a playful, wicked challenge in the amber lamplight. "If my job is so easy, why don't you crawl up here and finish editing the next batch for me? I'll even let you wear the captain's hat and sit in the big chair."

"I am entirely too busy managing a real commercial enterprise, Jungkook," you said, tossing your plastic pen onto the binder with a dramatic, loud sigh, though your eyes wandered instinctively to the clean, sharp line of his collarbone. "I don't have time to play around with your little art projects."

"Right. A real enterprise," he teased back, his voice dropping into a lower, softer register as his gaze dropped down to your lips for a brief, fleeting second before snapping right back to your eyes. "Which is exactly why you've been holding that pen upside down for the last five minutes."

Your face instantly flushed a brilliant, hot shade of pink. You quickly looked down at your hand, realizing with absolute horror that he was entirely correct—the plastic cap of the pen was resting firmly against your thumb while the actual ink point was aimed uselessly at the ceiling.

"It's a new memory technique," you stammered out, scrambling to flip the pen around in your fingers while forcing a loud, defensive laugh to cover your embarrassment. "It stimulates the brain cells. You wouldn't know anything about it because your brain is entirely fueled by video games, bad movies, and energy drinks."

Jungkook let out another quiet, rich laugh, the sound incredibly warm and intimate in the quiet apartment. But instead of pushing the joke any further, he slowly slid off the edge of the couch. He did not rush his movements at all. He moved with a slow, agonizingly deliberate grace, his bare feet making zero sound on the soft rug as he dropped down onto his knees right on the floor beside you.

Suddenly, the safe distance between your bodies shrunk down to a matter of inches.

The physical heat radiating off his chest was shocking, cutting straight through the cool draft of the rainy June night. He sat back on his heels, resting one of his large, calloused hands flat on the floor right behind your lower back, effectively blocking you in from behind. He smelled entirely like his clean cedarwood body wash, laundry detergent, and the faint trace of mint gum.

"Alright, show me the memory technique then," he murmured, his dark eyes locked onto yours, completely unblinking. He reached out with his left hand, his long fingers moving slowly across the small space between you until his knuckles lightly, barely brushed against the soft fabric of your gray sleeve. "Explain the numbers to me, sweets. I'm all ears."

Your breath completely caught in your throat. The playful, bickering armor you had built up over three years of friendship felt incredibly thin right now. It was easy to joke around and banter when he was sitting on the other side of the room, but with him kneeling right next to you on the floor, his broad shoulders completely blocking out the rest of your living room, the flirty energy felt heavy. It felt entirely too real.

"The... the classic boxes of four are starting at twelve dollars," you whispered, your voice sounding remarkably breathy and small compared to the steady roar of the rain outside. You looked down at the binder, your heart slamming wildly against your ribs as you pointed a trembling finger at a row of numbers. "And then there’s a three-dollar difference for the specialty collections. Like the Biscoff dream variety or the Nutella dream variety."

"Three dollars," Jungkook repeated softly. He wasn't looking at the paper or the numbers at all. He was tracing the sharp line of your jaw with his eyes, his gaze heavy, dark, and completely focused on you. "Sounds like a solid strategy, sweets."

"It is," you muttered, trying desperately to keep your voice steady and professional. "It keeps the profit margins clean. And it prevents the customers from getting confused by too many random numbers on the ordering sheet."

Jungkook slowly moved his hand from his knee. He did not grab you, and he did not push you into doing anything. Instead, his long, ink-covered fingers slid across the white pages of your binder, his fingertips lightly brushing against the edge of your hand as he reached up to gently touch the corner of the paper you were holding. His skin was burning hot, a massive contrast to your cold, nervous fingers.

"And what about the formatting?" he asked, his voice dropping into a rough, raspy whisper that fanned across the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, causing a violent wave of goosebumps to break out across your arms. He leaned in just a fraction closer, his shoulder tucking right against yours. "The layout looks a little cluttered here. Do you want me to redesign the font and the sheet for you tomorrow before you print it out?"

"I can format a spreadsheet, Jungkook," you whispered back, your eyes darting down to his mouth. His lips were parted slightly, his breathing a little shallow. The sheer, suffocating weight of the unspoken physical tension in the room was becoming completely overwhelming.

"I know you can," he murmured, his thumb slowly, casually stroking the very edge of your notebook page. "But I like helping you. It gives me an easy excuse to sit here like this."

"Like what?" you asked, finally turning your head to face him fully.

The move was a huge mistake. Your faces were so incredibly close now that if either of you leaned forward even an inch, your noses would touch. You could see the tiny mole right beneath his lower lip, the dark, clear depth of his irises, and the intense, serious focus in his expression.

"Like we have absolutely nowhere else to be tonight," Jungkook whispered, his dark eyes dropping down to your mouth, his gaze heavy and completely filled with a quiet, patient hunger that he was no longer trying to hide behind a best-friend smile. "Like I don't have to pretend that I'm looking at the paperwork when I'm actually just looking at you."

The entire apartment went completely, utterly silent. The ticking clock on the wall and the roaring rain outside seemed to completely vanish from your mind, leaving nothing but the thick, magnetic heat stretching between your bodies on the floor.

For the past month, you had both been playing completely nice. You had held hands while walking down the street, he had kissed your cheek when he dropped you off at your door after work, and you had gone on quiet, sweet dinner dates to your favorite local spots. You had both been intentionally moving slow, protecting the delicate transition from friends to something more. You wanted to make sure nothing felt rushed, pressured, or messy after your heavy breakup.

But sitting on the floor of your dark living room, with his large frame completely surrounding you and his scent filling your lungs, the feeling starting to turn into something completely impossible to control.

Your fingers instinctively tightened against the plastic of your pen, your knuckles turning white. "Jungkook... you're... you're doing it again."

"Doing what?" he murmured, his voice dropping into a rough, low rumble that felt entirely too intimate in the dark space. He did not pull back; instead, he tilted his head just a fraction of an inch, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're crowding me," you breathed out, your heart doing a full-scale acrobatic routine against your ribs. "You're using your giant gym shoulders to take up all the oxygen in my living room. I can barely think."

A slow, beautifully wicked smile pulled at the corner of his lips, his eyes crinkling just a tiny bit at the corners. He slowly raised his hand from the binder, his fingers moving through the air with agonizing slowness before he gently, carefully tucked a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His warm fingertips lingered against the sensitive skin of your neck, his touch so light it felt like a whisper against your skin.

"There's plenty of oxygen, sweets," he whispered, his thumb slowly tracing a short, burning line down the side of your neck, his palm resting right against your collarbone. The heat of his hand was intoxicating, making your entire body feel heavy, warm, and weak. "You're just nervous. Because you know exactly what I'm thinking right now."

"I don't have a single clue what goes on in that chaotic brain of yours, Jeon," you retorted weakly, your hand coming up instinctively to press against his broad chest, intending to push him back to a safe distance. But the second your palm hit the soft fabric of his tank top, feeling the solid, rapid, and powerful thumping of his heart beneath your fingers, your strength completely evaporated. Your fingers ended up just curling into the cotton shirt, pulling him a millimeter closer instead.

Jungkook let out a short, sharp breath, his dark eyes darkening significantly as he felt the tight grip of your fingers on his shirt.

"Sweets," he murmured, his voice cracking slightly with a sudden, deep wave of real, unprotected emotion. He did not force a heavy grip on you, and he did not rush forward to steal a kiss. He just kept his large hand resting flat against your neck, his thumb gently caressing your jawline, giving you every single opportunity to pull away if it was too much for you to handle. "We've been being so good for four weeks. I've been the most patient guy in the entire city. I've given you all the space you asked for. But sitting this close to you while you look at me like that... it's starting to feel like a literal torture method."

You stared up at him, your lips parted, your mind completely spinning as the sheer emotional depth of his gaze anchored you to the floor. The last lingering remnants of your past life, the anxiety of the old relationship, the fear of changing the rules of your friendship—it all completely dissolved into the warm, amber light of the room.

"I'm not looking at you like anything," you whispered desperately into the tiny space between your mouths, your eyes locked onto his.

"You are," Jungkook whispered back, his face leaning down just another fraction of an inch, his warm lips almost brushing against yours as he spoke. "You're looking at me the exact same way I've been looking at you for three long years. And if you don't tell me to go back to my side of the room right now... I am going to completely ruin our safe little boundary tonight."

You did not say a single word. You did not move away, and you did not pull your hand away from his chest.

Instead, your fingers tightened fiercely against the fabric of his tank top, your eyes closing as you slowly leaned your head forward, completely closing the final, agonizing distance between you.

When his lips finally met yours, it wasn't the tentative, careful question from the beach shoreline a month ago. It was a deep, slow, and completely possessive answer. Jungkook let out a low, ragged sigh against your mouth, his large arms finally moving to wrap securely around your waist. He lifted your body completely off the rug and pulled you directly into his lap, closing every single inch of distance between you.

He held you with a heavy, unhurried strength that felt entirely permanent, his mouth moving against yours with a breathless, deep intensity that completely erased the old lines of your friendship. His lips were warm, soft, and demanding, tasting faintly of mint and sweetness. Your hands slid up his chest, your fingers tangling into the soft, messy curls at the back of his neck, holding onto him as if he were the only solid thing left in the world.

…

The bedroom was completely quiet. There was no more running, no more cold masks, and no more walls between you. The air felt completely thick with a deep, breathless relief.

You were both still on the floor, right by the side of your unmade bed. Jungkook’s broad back was resting firmly against the edge of the mattress, his long legs spread wide to cradle your body completely inside his space. He had pulled you right onto his lap, your knees framing his hips, bringing your bodies so close that there wasn’t a single inch of empty space left between you. His massive, hands were wrapped tightly around your waist, his fingers digging into your skin with a steady, grounding pressure as if he was still terrified you might vanish into the dark night.

His mouth found yours again, and the kiss was entirely different from any clash you had ever shared before. It was deep, wet, and completely filled with an aching, desperate hunger that had been building up for a month. His tongue slid smoothly against yours, tasting the salt of your recent tears, while his hot breath fanned across your cheeks.

As the kiss deepened, Jungkook’s hips gave a slow, heavy tilt upward. The friction was instant. Even through the thick, rough denim of his jeans and the fabric of your clothes, the hard, solid length of his erection pressed firmly against your core. A soft, trembling gasp was pulled right from your throat, your fingers instantly digging into the fabric of his t-shirt.

He didn't speed up. He kept the movement slow, heavy, and incredibly deliberate, dry humping you right there on his lap. Every single time his hips rolled against yours, you could feel the throbbing size of his length pushing hard against your thighs. The friction was building a thick, heavy pool of heat between your legs, making your core clench desperately against the rough denim. He groaned deep in his chest, a low, vibrating sound that went straight down your spine. His mouth moved to your jawline, his lips sucking softly at your skin, leaving a wet trail down to your neck.

"You feel so fucking good, sweets," Jungkook panted darkly, his hot breath brushing against your ear. His large hands slid down from your waist, his palms cupping your ass tightly, lifting you slightly just to press your wet heat even harder against his hard jeans. "I’ve been going completely crazy for months. Do you know how hard it was to watch you walk past me every day and not pull you into a room?"

Your face flushed a deep, burning crimson. You were incredibly shy under his direct, raw words, but your body was completely betraying you, melting into his heavy heat. Your fingers slid up his chest, your palms mapping his muscles. You found yourself completely obsessed with the size of his biceps, your fingers squeezing the hard muscle as he lifted you. You stared down at his chest in the dim light, your breath catching at how massive and solid he felt beneath your hands.

Reaching out with a trembling finger, you playfully flicked his nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Jungkook let out a sharp, ragged gasp, his eyes instantly darkening with a wild, teasing intensity. A dominant, beautiful smirk tugged at his lips. "Oh, you want to play dirty now, princess?"

Before you could answer, his large hand slid up under your shirt, his rough, warm palms finding your bare skin. His thick fingers captured your nipple, giving it a firm, teasing pinch that sent a sharp, electric jolt of pure pleasure straight down to your thighs. You arched your back, a loud gasp escaping your lips as his thumb began to make tight, heavy circles over the sensitive peak.

You fired back, your fingers tugging at his shirt until you could reach his chest, your thumb and forefinger finding his nipple again, pinching it right back. You were both teasing each other's nipples, the friction and the light pain driving the mood into something incredibly wild, raw, and completely unaligned with the cold distance of the past.

Jungkook couldn't take the distance on the floor anymore. Without breaking the heavy, wet connection of your lips, his massive arms wrapped completely under your thighs and back. He stood up smoothly, lifting your weight as if you weighed nothing at all, and moved the both of you onto the soft mattress of your bed.

He laid you down gently onto the dark blankets, his heavy, muscular frame immediately hovering right over you. He looked down at your face. His eyes were completely dark, filled with a raw, serious vulnerability. Neither of you had ever seen each other completely naked before—every previous encounter had been sweet, and hidden. Tonight was real.

"Hey," Jungkook whispered, his voice incredibly soft, sexy, and deep as he stared directly into your eyes. He reached down, his thumb gently tracing your lower lip. "Look at me, princess. I want to do this right. I want to see every single inch of you. Can I continue? Tell me you want me inside you."

Your heart was hammering against your ribs, a wave of shyness washing over you at his intense focus, but you nodded your head softly, your fingers curling around his wrists. "Yes... Jungkook, please."

A soft, relieved sigh left his lips. He didn't waste another second. With slow, worshipful movements, he reached down and carefully pulled your shirt over your head, completely exposing your breasts to the warm air of the room. Jungkook froze for a long, heavy minute, his breath hitching completely in his throat. He stared at them in the dim light, his eyes completely blown out as he took in the soft, perfect shape of your chest.

"God, you are so beautiful," he growled darkly, his voice rough with an absolute, desperate hunger. He leaned down, his large, scarred hands cupping your breasts roughly, his thick fingers sinking into the soft flesh. He didn't bite brutally; he opened his mouth wide, licking and sucking your nipple deep into his mouth, his tongue making heavy, wet circles around the peak until you were crying out, your fingers twisting into his dark hair.

While he sucked your breast, your hands slid down his broad shoulders, your fingers mapping the thick lines of his back before you reached for the hem of his t-shirt. You pushed the fabric up, your eyes widening as he pulled it off, completely exposing his massive chest, his chiseled abs, and the powerful lines of his biceps. You were completely obsessed with his body, your palms sliding over his warm, tanned skin, feeling the heavy, rapid thumping of his heart beneath his ribs.

Jungkook reached down, his fingers unbuttoning your trousers and sliding them off your legs, leaving you in nothing but your small lace panties. He shifted his body down between your thighs, his knees forcing your legs wide apart. He looked down at your core, his breathing turning ragged.

His large, wrapped hand slid down, his palm resting right over the fabric of your panties. He began to rub his palm in slow, heavy circles over your pussy, flicking his fingers lightly against your hidden clit through the thin lace. He observed your face, watching your eyes flutter shut as you let out a high-pitched, needy whimper.

"Let me see it," Jungkook murmured, his voice a dirty, raw whisper against your thigh. "Can I take these off, sweets? Let me look at you."

You nodded weakly, your hands gripping the bedsheets as he carefully slid the lace panties down your legs, tossing them onto the floor. Jungkook stayed on his knees, his dark eyes locking onto your exposed core. In the dim glow of the room, he observed your beautiful, pink-brownish flesh, his eyes tracing the delicate, wet lines of your pussy. You felt incredibly shy under his intense gaze, instinctively trying to close your thighs to hide yourself from him.

"Don't hide from me," he commanded softly, his large hands gripping your knees and gently pushing them wide open again. "You are so fucking perfect. Look how wet you already are for me."

Using his delicate, thick fingers, he reached down and lightly flicked through the thick, clear cream that you had already released through the intense dry humping. He didn't rush. He moved his fingertips slowly over your clit, spreading your own wet juices over the sensitive flesh, making a soft, wet sound that filled the quiet bedroom. He was being incredibly dirty, moving his finger tips in tight, heavy circulation right over your clit, applying a steady, intense pressure that made your hips violently jerk off the bed.

"Ah! Jungkook... it's too much," you cried out, your face flushing as a wave of intense, pre-climax pleasure shot through your lower body.

"It's not too much yet, sweets," he whispered darkly, leaning down until his lips were just millimeters from your wet flesh. He let out a low growl, his tongue darting out to lick right across your clit, tasting your sweet cream. He started giving you a slow, incredibly nice pussy licks, his tongue licking and sucking your sensitive flesh while his fingers slid deep inside your wet core, moving in and out in a perfect, heavy rhythm.

You were writhing under him, your mind completely shattered by the dirty things he was whispering against your thighs, your body melting into the mattress. The pleasure was so pure, so real, and entirely empty of the past.

You reached down, your trembling hands catching his broad shoulders, pulling him up. "Jungkook... please, I want to touch you. Let me hold it."

Jungkook’s eyes flashed with a wild, dark desire, when you suddenly confessed. He shifted his body up, sitting on his knees right over your face. He unbuttoned his jeans, his hands sliding the heavy denim down his long legs until he was completely undressed. Your breath caught completely in your throat. It was your very first time seeing his length completely bare. He was massive, thick, and completely rock-hard, a heavy bead of precum glistening at the very tip of his shaft.

"Hold it, baby," he panted, his voice dripping with a raw, dirty authority. "Take it."

Your hands were shaking as you reached out, your fingers wrapping around the thick, warm base of his length. He let out a deep groan as your skin touched his, his jaw clenching tightly. You leaned up slightly, your tongue darting out to softly lick the shaft, moving your lips along the thick veins. You took the head into your mouth, giving him a slow, deep blowjob, your lips tight around his size while your hand moved up and down the length.

Jungkook’s breathing went completely wild. He reached down, his large hands gently gripping your hair, and began to softly mouth fuck you, pushing his thick length deep into your throat in a steady, heavy rhythm. The wet sounds of your mouth fucking filling the space between your gasps for air.

He moved with a heavy, intense pace until his entire body went completely rigid. He pulled back just an inch, his dark eyes looking down at your face, his voice a tight, strained rasp.

"Sweets... I'm close. Do you want me to come inside your mouth? Tell me."

You looked right into his wild, obsessed eyes, your heart completely melting at how real and vulnerable he looked. You nodded your head firmly, letting out a soft hum of agreement.

Jungkook let out a low, animalistic roar, pushing his thick length all the way back into your mouth to the very root. His body trembled violently as he released, pouring his thick, hot, and heavy cum right down your throat. You swallowed every single drop, your hands rubbing his thighs as his release pumped out against your tongue.

The moment he finished, he slowly pulled away, his breathing ragged. He didn't leave you alone for even a single second. Jungkook immediately pulled you back up into his broad chest, his massive arms wrapping around you as he gave you a sweet, tender aftercare for a full minute, kissing your lips, your forehead, and your wet cheeks, whispering how much he loved you into your skin.

But the night was far from over. The raw, unprotected heat between your bodies was still burning completely out of control.

Jungkook shifted your body, positioning you flat on your back once more. He crawled between your thighs, his thick, heavy length already semi-hard again, pressing right against the entrance of your wet pussy. He paused, his hands framing your hips, his eyes locking onto yours with a serious, deep focus.

Suddenly, with a playful, dominant smirk, his large hand came down, giving a loud, sharp slap right against your wet pussy flesh. The loud CLAP echoed through the room, making your eyes widen in pure, shocked arousal.

"You're so fucking wet for me, baby," he whispered darkly, his thumb finding your clit to begin a heavy circulation through the thick juices. He positioned the thick head of his dick right at your opening. "Can I put it back in? Let me slide all the way inside you, sweets."

"Yes... please, Jungkook, put it in," you screamed out, your pride completely gone.

Jungkook gave a deep, slow push, his massive, unprotected dick sliding smoothly and deeply right into your tight, wet core, bottoming out completely to the absolute root. A loud, desperate scream tore from your throat, your fingers digging deep into his biceps as he began to push in and out of you, starting the real, unbroken rhythm of the night.

Every single thrust was slow, heavy, and completely bottoming out inside your tight, swollen core. The unprotected friction between your bodies felt entirely different—it was an overwhelming, melting heat that stripped away the last remaining doubts in your mind.

His large hands were locked firmly around your hips, his calloused thumbs digging into your skin to anchor you against the soft mattress. With every slow, deliberate push, the wet, squelching sound of his thick shaft sliding through your excess juices filled the quiet room. You lay beneath him with your legs spread wide, your head tossing back against the pillows as a high, breathless whimpering tore from your throat.

"Look at me, sweets," Jungkook panted, his voice a deep, gravelly rasp that shook your chest. He leaned his heavy upper body down, his broad chest pressing flat against yours, trapping your smaller frame under his massive weight. "Don't close your eyes. Look at how much of my dick you're taking right now."

You forced your eyelids open, your vision slightly blurred by tears of pure, intense pleasure. In the dim amber light of the streetlamps, his dark eyes were completely fixed on yours. There was a raw, beautiful vulnerability in his gaze—an absolute surrender that perfectly mirrored your own. The pride that had kept you apart for months was entirely gone, replaced by a deep, aching dependency that you finally permitted yourself to feel.

"Jungkook... ah! It feels... so deep," you choked out, your fingers sliding up his damp, muscular arms, your palms completely obsessed with the thick, hard curve of his biceps. You squeezed the solid muscle tightly as he delivered a slow, crushing surge that hit your spot perfectly from the front.

"Because it is deep, baby. Fucking deep," he growled softly, a low, vibrating chuckle rumbling against your chest. He stopped moving for a split second, his thick length buried to the absolute root inside you, letting you feel the full, throbbing weight of his erection. His hand slid up from your hip, his long, scarred fingers wrapping roughly around your breast. His thumb flicked over your highly sensitive nipple, applying a firm, teasing pressure that made your internal walls instantly convulse around his shaft. "I want to be so deep inside you that you can't think about anyone or anything else. You're completely filled with me."

He began to move again, but this time, he altered his angle, his hips moving in a tight, heavy circulation. The rolling motion of his pelvis against your clit, combined with the deep, deep strokes of his dick, was completely lethal. A sharp, loud scream escaped your lips, your back arching violently off the mattress as the friction reached a boiling point.

Jungkook let out a ragged gasp, his own head dropping into the crook of your neck. He began to suck and bite at your collarbone, leaving light, wet marks while his lower body kept up the relentless, circulating rhythm. He reached his hand down between your thighs, his thick thumb finding your swollen, dripping clit through the thick white cream that was beginning to coat his groin. He began to make tight, heavy, fast circles against your clit, matching the speed of his thumbs to the deep, grinding thrusts of his hips.

The combination completely shattered your mind. You were drowning in the raw, dirty reality of his touch. You could feel his thick veins pulsing against your internal walls, every single millimeter of his size stretching you open, forcing your body to stay in a constant, crushing state of climax.

"Jungkook! Please... I'm going to come... ah!" you sobbed out, your hands moving to the back of his neck, your fingers twisting desperately into his damp, dark hair to pull him down for a deep, wet kiss.

"Come for me then, love," he muttered against your lips, his tongue sliding deep into your mouth to swallow your high, needy cries. "Clench around my dick. Let me feel how tight you get when you ruin yourself for me."

Your body completely gave in. A massive, violent orgasm tore through your entire lower body, your internal walls clenching around his thick shaft so tightly that Jungkook let out a loud, animalistic roar of pure agony. His thrusts became faster, heavier, and completely unforgiving for a few wild seconds, his chest slamming against yours as he chased his own release through your convulsions. But even in his desperation, his large hands remained gentle around your waist, keeping you grounded, keeping you safe against him.

He didn't pull out when your body finished trembling. He kept his cock buried deep inside you, his heavy breathing filling the quiet room as he waited for your internal pulses to slow down. He leaned down, kissing your forehead, your wet cheeks, and the tip of your nose, his touch filled with an unbelievable, heartbreaking sweetness that made your heart melt completely.

"You're so perfect, baby, So perfect," he whispered, his rough voice completely stripped of its usual dominant edge. He reached down, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of damp hair away from your face. "My beautiful, perfect girl. I'm never letting you go back to that cold past ever."

You leaned up, your lips softly pressing against his chiseled jawline, your heart completely full. "I don't want to go back, Jungkook. I just want to stay right here."

He let out a soft, beautiful laugh, his dark eyes shining with an absolute, devoted warmth. He slowly pulled his semi-hard length out of your core, a soft, wet sound echoing in the quiet room as your shared juices spilled onto his thighs. Jungkook didn't leave your side for a single second.

He immediately pulled you into his broad chest, his massive arms wrapping around your waist, pulling the thick blankets completely over both of your shoulders to shield you. As the quiet night settled over the small apartment, you rested your head against his heart, your fingers intertwined with his scarred hand, finally, completely free. "I love you sweets," he planked a kiss to your lips.

"I love you too."

...

[ Request your fic here🫶🏼]

a/n: fr enjoyed writing this one sm!! nd made me feel so much aww in a way i can’t even explain lol. tbh this is a trope i’ve never actually tried before, so i really wanted to experiment with it in a super detailed way. i def didn't want to rush anything or just jump straight into the plot just to force them to confess love for each other immediately. i really hope u guys love the slow build up & how it turned out! thank you for showing so much love for the teaser !!! layout ur thoughts in the comments pls <3 REBLOGS ARE ALSO APPRECIATED