𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗧𝗛

There were a handful of profanities waiting on the tip of Jungkook's tongue right now — funny, considering he rarely cursed. Then again, he rarely found himself cock-blocked by his five-year-old son. It wasn't his fault, of course, but Jungkook still mourns the press of your lips against his, a reality that now seemed thousands of miles away.

"Santa— Is it you?" 

Cassian was half-awake at best. On rare occasions he would sleep walk, leaving Jungkook to patiently follow him up and down the stairs a couple of times as he tries to guide him back to bed without waking the boy entirely. He hopes that isn't the case tonight — God have mercy on him and this creaking house if he had to be walked like a dog on a leash behind a sleep-dazed Cassian. 

Luckily, that does not seem to be the case for a moment later his son pries his heavy eyes open fully, adjusting to the kitchen lights slowly. Jungkook exhales a relieved breath as he turns back to you — well, where you had been standing a second ago. You'd already torn yourself from his grasp, and when he peers down, Jungkook finds his empty hands staring back at him as they clutch weakly at the air. 

"Hi sweetie," your voice is coated in sugar and it makes his head whip in your direction. He finds you crouched in front of his son, the same hands that should've been resting on the back of his neck by now, instead cradling Cassian's small face. The corner of his lip tugs into a frown but he says nothing when approaching the two of you. 

Cassian stifles a yawn as he glances around the kitchen. "I thought I heard something," he says, clearly disappointed that what he came down to find was not Santa. Their eyes meet and for a second Jungkook fears that his son might start asking question he has no answers to — thankfully you're faster. 

"It was probably just the wind, old houses make noise sometimes," you tell him with a smile. 

He accepts that with a sleepy nod, his gaze wandering back and forth between you and Jungkook once more as his brows furrow across his forehead. "What are you and daddy doing in the kitchen? It's night." He points an accusing finger to the window where the moon can be seen beyond the glass. 

Taking another step forward, Jungkook closes the distance between you and his son. "We were just getting some water," he says, hoping that the simple explanation would be enough to put a lid on the child's curiosity. 

"Hm…" Cassian hums, blinking slowly like it made perfect sense. 

Not wanting to give his son room for further prying, Jungkook hauls him into his arms. "Alright, back to bed," he announces without leaving air for argument. Cassian's tiny body goes pliant in his embrace within seconds, his head becoming a warm and comforting weight where it lolls forward to rest on his shoulder. 

You, too, rise to back to your full height, fingers reaching up to brush a strand of hair from the boy's face. The gesture was mindless and you probably thought nothing of it — but Jungkook's heart did. It squeezes hard in his chest and he has to pry his eyes away until your touch no longer lingers right under his nose. 

"Goodnight sweetie," you say when taking a small step back, to which Cassian mumbles a tired response. It still makes your lips stretch into a grin and Jungkook hates himself for wishing that the affection had been directed at him and not his son. 

He shoves the dangerous thoughts aside as he adjusts his grip on the small child. Then he gives you a quiet nod, not trusting himself to speak. His attention strays by the necklace around your neck before he turns to leave — the gold glinting softly under the kitchen lights where it rests against your skin, the taste of you a permanent mark on his tongue. 

His parents' house is quiet when he makes his way up the stairs. He does not glance back to see if you've followed, but when the steps don't creak behind him, he figures that you hadn't. 

"Daddy?" 

Cassian's voice is a drowsy murmur against his chest, barely audible despite the reigning silence. "Yes?" Jungkook hums when he walks through the door his son had left ajar, heading toward the lower bunk where the younger slept. 

It takes him a moment to respond and Jungkook uses the delay to tuck him in, arranging the duvet carefully over his smaller frame. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he waits his son out. 

Rubbing his fist over his eyes, Cassian makes a sound that told Jungkook he was thinking intently about something. Finally his lips part, "Do you always hug nanny like that?" 

The room drops ten degrees and suddenly he wishes that his son had been sleep walking after all. He shifts just enough for the mattress to groan and Jungkook almost does the same. At the very least, the kid had thought his father's busted attempt at a kiss to be nothing but a hug — which was more than he could've prayed for. 

"Well you see…" he rubs a hand over the back of his neck, silently thanking the darkness of the bedroom for hiding the flush on his cheeks. "Grown-ups hug," shrugging, he tries to appear indifferent, "Just like how I hug your nana and papa." 

"But papa and nana is your mommy and daddy," the boy quickly counters, "Nanny is just nanny." 

"Right," Jungkook drags his palm down the line of his face, "Nanny is just nanny." He thinks of something else to say, something that will either bore the child or have him fall asleep in an instant. Unfortunately he's at his wits end and Cassian's eyes aren't growing any heavier as they await his response. 

"Sometimes people need hugs, even if they're not family." The words are pulled out of him in a most unsure way but he deems the answer good enough. 

His son frowns, "Is nanny sad?" Concern has crept its way onto his tired expression. Try as he might — and try he did — Jungkook could not for the life of him figure out what you had done to make the usually introverted and quiet boy so enamored with you. 

"No," he shakes his head, "Nanny is fine." The last thing he needed was any talk of what his child had witnessed to be taking place at the breakfast table in the morning. 

Silence settles over the bedroom both of his children share. In the distance the faint ticking of whatever nonsense-trinket-clock his mother had found at a flea market, can be heard. Jungkook remains seated on the edge of his son's mattress, making sure not to move a fin and disrupt the possibility of the latter falling into a deep slumber. 

Minutes pass — how many? he has no idea. But the fact that his back was beginning to hurt from the hunched over position he sat in was telling enough. He listens for the faint hum of breaths, trying to gauge if the kid was any closer to sleep. 

"Daddy…?"

Never mind, Jungkook sighs. He shifts enough to face him better, or as best as one could given the looming shadows of the night. "Yes?" he quires, hoping that whatever came next would be brief. 

Cassian hesitates, had it been any lighter he might've caught the sight of him chewing up his bottom lip. Instead he is faced with quiet darkness — until his son finally speaks again. "Are you sad?" 

The question has him glancing down at his lap, where his hands rest idly on top of his knees. He turns one of them, bending his thumb slightly. "No," his tone is certain, almost too sure of itself, he softens it before adding, "I'm fine." 

When there's no response Jungkook turns fully toward the small boy. He leans forward, reaching the same hand up to brush the soft, slightly curly ends of his hair back. "I'm happy," it's not a lie, but he doesn't know if it's the full truth either. 

Cassian tilts his head into his father's palm, "You are?" 

Jungkook hums, then he bends down to press a gentle kiss to his son's forehead. "Of course, I have you and your sister," he murmurs against the soft skin of the boy's temple before pulling back a fraction. 

"Okay," Cassian seems content with that as he snuggles a little deeper into the duvet. "Promise—" he's' interrupted by a yawn, "You tell me if you're sad." After a moment he says, "I'll make you feel better. We can hug." 

Often times Jungkook found himself wondering what he might have done in a past life to deserve his own children. If he stopped to think about it for too long he knows that he will only deem himself unworthy of their unconditional love. So he doesn't. Instead he presses another chaste kiss to Cassian's forehead. 

"I will," he promises, so quietly that it would have only been audible if you listened close. The moonlight bleeds onto the young boy's face, his dark lashes fluttering as his father's answer registers — then they grow heavy. Jungkook stays a moment longer, watching as Cassian's body sinks further into the matters. 

His lips part, "I really thought Santa was in the kitchen," he sighs. Despite being upset over the missed opportunity to meet the white-bearded man, exhaustion was quickly winning out and a few seconds later, soft snores fill the space between them, signaling that he had passed out at last. 

With a final brush to his son's forehead, then his cheek, Jungkook rises from the bed — nearly hitting his head on the top bunk where his daughter slept. Making sure to watch his step, he manages to exit the room without waking anyone, sliding the door shut behind him with a muted click. 

The study he had offered to sleep in was far from comfortable. Jungkook thought that perhaps he had become somewhat picky when it came to having his bedding done. Still, he settles onto the tiny spare bed, grimacing at how the stiff mattress dug into his back before turning to his side. He's greeted with the sight of books. Books stacked on top of more books that crowd the old shelves. 

Brows furrowing together, he studies the nonsensical order in which the titles were structured. His father had always been somewhat of a character. He'd probably lose track of his right arm if it hadn't been attached to his torso. So the chaos on his bookshelves should come as no surprise. It still makes Jungkook's fingers itch where they tap restlessly against the covers. 

Forcing his eyes shut with a sharp inhale through his nose, he tries to think about anything else. The darkness behind his eyelids feel like a clean slate, no mess, no nothing. His sanctuary lasts for about ten seconds before images of you flood his vision. He tries to shake them at first, not that it ever worked. 

Jungkook figures that there was no harm in imagining your face rather than the chaotic bookshelves in front of him, if only for a little while. So he lets it be his last thought before succumbing to sleep that night. 

It had been three-hundred and sixty five days since the last time he spent Christmas at his parents house. It had been different back then, a year ago the holiday seemed bleak. The carols were too loud, the animated movies only a messy flicker of color in front of his tired eyes. He'd tried to smile for his children as they opened their gifts — it ended with his mother stepping in to do what he couldn't, as if to add onto the list of his failures. 

His guilt consumed him during the weeks that followed. For a long time it was all Jungkook felt. 

Christmas is different today as well, but he finds that he doesn't mind it. Rayne and Cassian are perched on the floor, the younger riffling through the mountain of presents excitedly as Jungkook and his parents watch from the couch. You sit beside them, there's still adequate space on the soft cushion next to him, but you had insisted on staying by the kids' side. 

The sun had just broken the horizon and a few pale streaks of yellow managed to pierce through the windows, basking the three of you in their warm hues. Jungkook didn't have to force a smile on his lips today — that was nice. 

"Hm…" Cassian scratches his chin thoughtfully, "This one." He reaches out to grab one of the neatly wrapped packages, turning it over in his hands as the struggles to read the card attached to it, probably thrown off by the cursive hand writing. 

You lean forward, peering over his shoulder with a hum. "To Rayne from Nana and Papa," you nod when pointing to the card, letting him follow the tip of your finger as you read. When you're done you sit back to let him extend the gift to his sister who took it with careful hands. 

The sound of paper ripping fills the living room and his mother shifts eagerly in her seat as she watches her grandchild open the first gift of the day. Rayne's fingers are gentle where they undo the red wrapping. Her eyes soften around the edges when they land on the contents inside. 

"Thank you," she says when holding up the set of purple pajamas. The shirt has flowers sewn onto it, scattered across the sleeves and the chest piece — Jungkook recognizes the patterns as his mother's touch in an instant, similar to the stitches she would do whenever she mended his broken clothes when he was little. 

"Now, I didn't make the entire thing because there wasn't enough time. But I thought the flowers could be a nice personal touch for—" his mother is cut off mid sentence as Rayne wraps her arms around her. Having already gotten up from her spot on the floor, she now clung to her grandmother tightly. 

"Thank you, nana," she says, the words muffled against the woman's shoulder. 

"Hey now," his father suddenly clears his throat, drawing attention toward himself, "I paid for it." 

The corner of Rayne's lip twitches and she goes to hug him as well, letting her grandfather place a kiss to her forehead. 

Jungkook watches the exchange quietly, his gaze drifting over to you without meaning for it to. But you're not looking at him, no, you sit entirely captivated by the sight of Rayne and her grandparents. The smile on your face reminds him of a time since long lost and the strange flutter in his chest doesn't help ease the situation. 

Rayne reclaims her spot beside her brother on the floor and the present unwrapping continues. Jungkook is mostly oblivious to what is being said as he regards the scene with half-lidded eyes. Gifts are passed back and forth, Cassian receives a similar pajama set from his grandparents, the dinosaur Jungkook had seen you pick out at the store. 

The majority of things from the humongous pile were all Jungkook's doing. Rayne especially was hard to decide on appropriate presents for, so he'd tried to compensate by getting them a large spread instead. 

"Thank you, daddy!" His son crashes into his arms, the box of shiny toy cars that he still cradles gets squished between them, but he doesn't mind. Placing a kiss on the crown of his head, he then leans back as Cassian returns to shuffle through the steadily shrinking mountain. 

Rayne gets a book from her grandfather — the palette of makeup that Jungkook has little knowledge on from you. He recalls the hot and stuffy air of the mall as you dragged him up and down the aisles, discussing different brands that seemed indifferent to him. Though his daughter pauses when the gift registers. 

Her brows furrow before softening again, finger tracing the edge of the plastic cover as she reads the name under her breath. Then she turns to you, who'd been watching her whilst chewing on your nail — a nervous habit of yours Jungkook had realized. 

"I wasn't sure about the colors— So if you want another palette we can go and have it changed but I thought that you might like your own since—" 

"Thank you." Rayne interrupts you halfway through your ramble, dark eyes meeting yours as she smiles, an awkward but sincere smile that Jungkook rarely saw. "The colors are perfect," she then adds, her attention lingering by the purple shade, "I love it." 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, nodding as your posture relaxes again. The moment is short-lived, mostly because her brother was far too eager to continue. He'd already grabbed another, rectangular shaped present and was now reading the card to the best of his abilities. 

Rayne leans in to help out, her face going through a handful of expressions before she turns to you. "It's for you," she announces as she turns back to where you had just gotten comfortable again, "From father." 

Jungkook blinks, immediately pulled from his thoughts as his attention snaps toward the gift his son was now handing you with a beaming grin. He recognizes the wrapping in an instant, the one he had spent a ridiculous amount of time choosing only to settle on a dark green with red dots. 

You accept it with a tiny frown, surprised almost, at least so he thinks. He doesn't know why he feels nervous all of a sudden and he hopes no one notices the way he shifts in his seat, hands locking together across his lap as he bites his cheek. It shouldn't be any different from last night, except today he has an audience. 

Your fingers linger on the card he'd written, was it not enough? Should he have said something else — maybe he should say something right now? 

The paper rips before he can and Jungkook exhales through his nose as he watches you open the present he'd gotten for you. It takes less than a minute but it's enough time for him to rethink the entire thing and he can feel sweat beading on his forehead. 

You, however, have not looked up from the box in your lap and when the wrapping comes off your brows shoot high on your forehead. A soft breath escapes you, then a small chuckle and his heart does a weird little skip against his ribcage. 

"How did you know?" You ask when opening the cardboard lid. 

The corner of his lip twitches and he shrugs, "A hunch." It was admittedly more than a hunch, not that he would ever confess to that — the grin you wear is well enough to have his head spin. 

"Well go on, show us!" His mother squeals on her end of the couch, leaning forward for enough for Jaejoon to place a hand on her shoulder to prevent an unnecessary fall. 

Doing as she says, you hold up the box to display the shoes inside. Sneakers, not anything extravagant — unless you peeked at the price tag, though Jungkook had been smart enough to remove that. 

Your worn out excuse of footwear had bothered him since your first day, even when he'd refrained from making any comments on their state. With the current weather that itch had become almost impossible not to scratch, and your displeased grimace whenever snow managed to wet your socks was enough to have him make up his mind. He'd taken the liberty of checking for your size when arriving back home last week, taking a mental note of the color and going with something similar for these. 

"Thank you," you say, and he can tell you mean it. For a second it looks as though you might just get up and hug him like the children had done. He tries not to appear disappointed when all you give is a smile. "Seriously, these are great," your gaze stays with him a moment longer, making him nod slowly. 

"You needed a new pair," he says, his voice a lot hoarser than he'd like for it to be. His parents seem to approve of the message as well, though not more than his son who was taking a very close look for himself. 

Cassian points excitedly to the window, "We can play outside and you can wear them later!" 

You agree to his suggestion enthusiastically and Jungkook allows himself to relax back against the couch with a sigh. His eyes wander toward the snow outside, the idea of spending time getting cold and wet does make his nose scrunch, but he keeps quiet as he watches the slowly rising sun. In fact he was so focused on it that he nearly missed the way you leaned forward to whisper into the young boy's ear, pointing subtly toward one of the presents under the tree. 

Without further questioning, Cassian turns to grab it and with your help he reads the card easily. "To Jungkook, from nanny," and as if it weren't obvious enough, he holds it out toward his father, "It's for you daddy!" 

Jungkook blinks dumbfoundedly as he stares down at the present held out before him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a present for Christmas, no less one wrapped in shiny red with a green bow on top.

It's light in his palms and he glances over to find you with your arms hugging your legs, bottom lip bit in anticipation. Clearing his throat, he turns back to carefully undo the neat bow. He tries not to picture your own hands instead of his as he peels the wrapper apart, tries not to think about how you might have looked when you sat down to prepare this gift for him. 

The living room is awfully quiet, save for the rustle of paper as he finally strips the box bare. He barely glances at the brand name, it didn't matter where it was purchased, as long as it was from you. Pausing for a second, his gaze flickers up to meet yours one last time before removing the lid. 

Inside is a tie. Not like the ones he'd usually wear, the sleek black and navy ones that blended in with the rest of his wardrobe. No, this one is a deep red, it reminds him of a rich wine. He runs the pads of his fingers across the smooth fabric, the texture feels no different from the ones he already owns, this one might even be softer. 

"I figured you could use a little more color," you say and Jungkook looks over to see you smiling. 

The corner of his mouth curves upward as he takes in the sight of the tie once more. He imagines when he could wear it — proudly to the office — or perhaps only for you. Any other day he might've tried to pry those thoughts from his mind, tell himself that there was no point in dwelling on things he knows he shouldn't want. But right now, he lets himself think of what it would be like to take you to dinner, to spend time with you outside of his house, out in the real world. 

"I definitely could," he muses as he traps the fabric between two fingers, "Thank you." 

Sometimes Jungkook finds himself wanting to kiss you for no apparent reason all. This is one of those times. He wishes his family was elsewhere, despite the sacred holiday and the presents that have yet to be opened, he wishes to be with you and only you. 

The fantasy is quickly interrupted by his father who leans closer to take a look for himself. "This one will suit you nicely, son," he says, turning to you with a pleasant grin, "You have good taste, dear." 

The flustered giggle you emit makes his heart thunder in his chest, not quite the same way it had on your couch almost a week ago, it's fiercer now. "I'm glad," you hum when placing your chin on one knee. Jungkook feels your attention on him, it makes him warm, a nice kind of warm that he clings onto even as the conversation shifts and Cassian goes back to giving out more gifts. 

The next fifteen minutes or so are spent with the children opening the rest of their presents — his parents opening their own which he had gotten them. An electrical whisk for his mother, something she had insisted on not needing though he didn't see why not since she spent more time baking than anything. A chess board for his father, under the guise of them playing together in the future, which the man seemed very eager about. Jungkook often found that it was easier to express himself through materialistic resources — words never came out right for him anyway. 

Soon there was only one lonesome package left under the tree. The shape makes him frown, it wasn't soft, nor was it square or rectangular. Rayne picks it up, having taken over the role of reading the cards out loud rather than having her younger sibling struggle. 

She turns the lumpy present in her hands, its wrapping was different from all the others, a pale blue with reindeer on. Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she gets her expression under control again and clears her throat. "To Cassian, from… Santa." 

Her brother's head whips in her direction at that and for a little while he sits completely frozen on the floor. Then he's scrambling over to his sister, practically tearing the gift from her hands as he checks the card for himself. "Santa?!" He sounds disbelieving as he scans the room, like he was expecting the man himself to walk in at any given moment. 

"Well go on, open it," Rayne urges, clearly invested too, even if she tried not to show it. Cassian wastes no time in getting to work, tearing the paper with less care than he had previously. 

Jungkook frowns as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He runs through his own list in his head, but he couldn't for the life of him remember using that wrapper — and he certainly wouldn't have wrapped it like that. When glancing toward his mother and father, he finds them looking just as confused yet intrigued as himself. 

It's not until he looks over at you and sees the grin you're fighting off that it clicks. 

Cassian's ear piercing shriek pulls him back toward his son who'd already finished breaking through the paper that now lay scattered around him. "I told you! I told you!" he says as he holds up the box of rainbow colored crayons to his sister, "I knew Santa would read my list!" 

"What are those?" Jaejoon inquires as he squints behind his glasses. 

"Rainbow crayons!" The boy says, stumbling to his feet as he plops down in his grandfather's lap. "Look! Only Santa can make these, that's why I put them on my list." 

Ye-seo leans forward as she, too, studies the crayons closely, her face lighting up into a grin that matches her grandson's. "Why, you must have been a really good boy this year for Santa to give you something so special," she says as she pinches one of his cheeks lovingly. 

Jungkook regards them for a moment longer as he tries to piece together where you had managed to get that. Then he remembers the run-in with that Namjoon at the store. He'd just come back after acquiring the gifts he intended to give you, already tired and sick of the crowded mall to find another man chatting with you like one would an old friend. 

The encounter had left a bitter taste in his mouth which he tried to rationalize over and over on his way home to little avail. He thinks he might vaguely remember you holding a colorful box of something, though he'd been too caught up on the stranger in front of him to pay it any mind. 

When he turns to where you sit on the floor you meet his gaze, your head tilted to the side and a knowing look on your face. He mouths a quiet 'thank you' under his breath to which you nod. 

The air inside the living room feels warmer after that and Jungkook's chest feels warmer than it had in a long time. 

Tradition on Christmas Day includes an endless marathon of animated movies that Jungkook couldn't care less for. The dialogue and soundtracks were imprinted into his head by now and sometimes he found himself begrudgingly muttering them in real time as whatever film on-screen played. 

The kids' channel offered a variety throughout the entire morning and afternoon. It was one of the rare times in which he'd let the children spend time in front of the TV and if they had it their way, it would be a good couple of hours. 

Lady and the Tramp had already started by the time Jaejoon got the remote control in his hand and Cassian had bounced up on the couch, claiming what little space remained on the cushion alongside his sister. The sofa wasn't spacious per se, it allowed for a family of four — five if two of them were small enough to be counted as a half. That left you, still sitting on the floor as everyone else huddled up on the soft cushions. 

"Dear, come up here and join us," his mother says as she beckons you over, clearly not having thought over how that was supposed to work. 

You glance up, brows scrunching together as your gaze trails over the already crammed couch. "Oh— I'm fine here," you say, flashing Ye-Seo a small smile. 

"You can sit here," Jungkook barely registers the fact that he's on his feet, towering over everyone in the room as he gestures awkwardly to the spot he'd just been occupying. 

It doesn't fully sink in until he realizes that everyone had gone painfully quiet — even the movie playing on the TV had faded into background noise. He clears his throat, refusing to back down as he steps aside to offer up his seat for you. 

You blink, eyes darting between him and the available spot on the sofa. "No—" shaking your head, "It's alright I can see well from here." 

"I insist."

He knows that he's pressing the matter more than what could be considered appropriate in front of his parents and children, but he can't come to terms with you sitting on the floor while he lounged on the comfortable piece of furniture. 

Jaejoon finally shifts slightly, "Alright," he says as he hauls Cassian up into his arms, easily maneuvering the boy to sit on his wife's lap. "You too kid, come here," he pats his thigh for Rayne who raises a brow but shuffles over without protest. 

Jungkook watches the entire scene with his lips pressed into a firm line as his father easily solves the problem for him in a much simpler and more dignified manner. He glances to the extra space on the sofa, his mouth running dry as you murmur out a shy 'thanks' and slide onto the cushion, fitting in easily next to his family. 

He waits a second before joining you, careful not to brush up too close, which was nearly impossible. His thigh ends up pressed against yours, the warmth of your body radiating through the layers of clothes, straight into his own. 

"I love the girl dog," Cassian says as he points to the TV, content to be in his grandmother's gentle embrace. 

Rayne scoffs, "Her name is Lady, not the girl dog." 

"Lady doesn't sound like a real name," her brother retorts with a scrunch of his nose.

His sister looks ready to argue but Jaejoon diffuses the tension with a pat to her arm. "Such an insignificant detail to get hung up on, let us just enjoy the movie, hm?" he says in a cheerful voice. It does make the two of them settle down again and the topic shifts to the cruel Siamese cats instead. 

Jungkook is hardly paying them any mind. He's far too preoccupied noticing each part of you that connects to him. Your joint hips, the way his knee occasionally bumps against yours when he tries to get comfortable — always to no avail. His hands are clasped together on his lap, thumbs twiddling restlessly with one another. 

The movie is lost on him and he doesn't try to tune in. You are though, eyes moving in tune with the different scenes that play out, humming along softly to whatever song was playing. It makes him frown. Jungkook wants you to look at him, doesn't have any idea why, he just does. 

One of his palms move across his thigh, the edge of his hand resting just a breath from yours. Everyone is preoccupied, there's no harm in letting his pinky brush against the expanse of your leg, he thinks. 

The touch is light, a barely-there caress of his finger but you still tense up beside him, your gaze meeting his without turning your head. For a very short moment he believes that you might swat him away, perhaps read his innocent attempt at contact wrong and think him perverted. 

But you simply turn back to the film, forcing Jungkook to swallow down the disappointment building in his throat. He shifts his attention to the animation on screen, it fails to immerse him, not when you sit just beside him — and he doesn't move his hand. 

It's somewhere between the Tramp and the Lady's first meeting that he feels the subtle brush of skin against his own. His shoulders stiffen and upon glancing down, he sees your pinky resting against his own. You're still not looking at him, but the corner of your lip twitches and he knows it has nothing to do with the movie. 

Lady and the Tramp wrapped up a while ago and a new movie which he did not know the name of had began playing, though Cassian and Rayne were now more invested in their presents than anything. His parents had made their way to the kitchen in order to prepare the large breakfast you were to have. Jungkook joined them, he figured he would be of more use out there anyway. 

His mother was already fussing over being behind schedule, even as his father tries to reason with her by saying that it was not yet ten in the morning. 

"Oh for goodness sake, don't just stand there — go on, set the table!" Ye-seo ushers her husband through the doorway, his hands filled with plates and glasses. 

Jungkook for his part, remains silent as he slices two oranges to go along as sides. The knife wasn't as sharpened as he'd like but he made no comment on it to his mother who was now frantically stirring porridge on the stove. "Will you pass me the ginger, sweetie?" she asks without glancing up. 

Knowing better than to make her wait, Jungkook abandons the fruits he'd been cutting with a nod. The pantry was a complete mess compared to the comforts of his own home and it takes him a good minute to find it as he scours the shelves. "Top left," she calls out when he took too long. 

Finally spotting the small jar, he grabs it and heads over. His mother hums out a 'thank you' as she adds a generous amount into the pot. In the distance, the echoes of Cassian's giggles can be heard, the sound is soon followed by the familiar tune of your own laughter. Without thinking, Jungkook turns his head toward the source, trying to catch a glimpse of you in the living room. 

The knife lies loose in his grip now, passively resting there as he listens to your muffled conversation in the distance. His heart does this weird leap in his chest and he tries to brush it off as quickly as it had came. 

"She's quite lovely." 

His mother's hummed comment makes Jungkook pause and he nearly gives himself whiplash when turning to back to the cutting board where the forgotten oranges lay. "Hm?" he tries to feign nonchalance as he angles the blade once more. 

"Your nanny," she continues as she stirs the porridge, "She takes good care of Cassian and Rayne." 

Jaejoon had chosen that exact moment to return, instantly tuning in to the topic as he walks up beside his wife. "She does," he agrees when placing a hand on Ye-Seo's waist, "Got her life figured out too. That's some impressive work ethic at her age, not to mention that she studies full time." 

Jungkook nods, his gaze trained to the orange he slices thinly. He takes comfort in the repeated motion as he guides the knife slowly, the thud of it hitting the wooden board ringing loud in his ears. Suddenly, his mother speaks up: 

"Is she not a bit too young for you?" 

The sudden inquiry makes him freeze, fingers curling tighter around the knife's handle. "What?" His response comes out short and colder than he'd like but he cannot help the frown that etches its way onto his face, nor the way his jaw clenches when she continues without missing a beat. 

"I mean—" she shrugs, "She's a lovely girl there's no doubt about that. But she's only twenty." 

His next swallow goes down his throat thickly, he's sure they notice. "I think what your mother is trying to say," his father interjects as he shifts uncomfortably next to Ye-Seo, "Is that there are complications when it comes to certain… age differences." 

The words bring out a bitter taste in Jungkook's mouth and he has to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying something he would end up regretting. He scoffs, grabbing another orange even when he'd already cut plenty as he forces the blade through it with more force than necessary. It was insulting of them to think that the matter hadn't kept him up for weeks now. That he hadn't even taken your age into consideration when it had in fact been on his mind for far too long. 

"I assure you there is nothing to worry about," he grinds out, "Our relationship is nothing of the sort." The lie comes easily but he makes a point of not looking up from the cutting board — he knows that his mother will see right through him if he does — part of him fears that she already has. 

In the living room the TV is still going, a dramatized sound effect from whatever movie you and the children were watching fills the dense air between him and his parents. Jungkook wills his gaze to remain on the task in front of him, even when it longs to find you. 

Ye-Seo huffs under her breath, "You take your own mother for a fool?" She means to come across as scolding but her tone is far too soft for it to ever be. Giving the porridge another stir, she turns to face him fully — his father had gone quiet next to her. 

Jungkook can feel her eyes on him though he makes no move to meet them as he mindlessly cuts away at the orange in uneven slices.

"You may have your own kids now, but you are still my son." She inhales a quiet breath, "I haven't seen you look at anyone like that since— since…" 

There's no need for her to finish her sentence. He knows who she speaks of and it makes his lips twist into a grimace. Yet, the longer he lets the thought sit with him, the more dangerous it becomes. Jungkook hadn't allowed himself closeness for a long time, for his sake and for the children. You were never meant to be any different. 

And Jungkook knows that he's being selfish. He knows that each time he kisses you he lures you deeper into a false reality that he for some reason allows himself to cling to. What he doesn't like is that his mother knows this too. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." It's a pathetic excuse that shames him to the core but he utters it anyway — hoping to bury the entire conversation. 

Ye-Seo stops stirring the porridge entirely, her expression growing almost solemn as she says, "I just want for you to be happy." But could she not see that was trying? That he had been trying for so long now — wasn't that enough? 

"I'm worried about you," she then adds, "After everything that happened with Yelena, I—" 

The knife makes a deafening sound against the tiled counter top when Jungkook slams it down, startling his mother into aborting whatever she was about to say next. He turns to his parents with his chest tied up into knots, teeth grinding against each other with an intensity that borders on painful. 

"Son…" His father finally speaks in a low, cautious voice, like one would a frightened animal. He's got a hand on his wife's hip, the other on her shoulder as he hugs her close. The pity on his face makes everything worse — so does the weak attempt at comfort that he tries to provide. 

"Don't," Jungkook spits, moving to wipe his hands on a nearby towel, "I don't need to hear it." He bunches the fabric up between clenched fists in an attempt to channel his emotions onto the unsuspecting rag. 

His mother untangles herself from her husband's embrace, taking a couple of steps in his direction. "Sweetie," her fingers caress his tense forearm, "Your father and I only mean well. What happened between you it's…" She trails off, hesitation flickering across her features before she says, "It's still affecting you." 

Jungkook knows she's right, knows they both want what's best for him. That's what stings the most. He was tired of being pitied. The month that followed at work had been torture enough. The lingering glances from his employees. The apologetic smiles and the condolences. His parents had undoubtedly been the worst — not that he ever told them. It was enough that he was hurting, he hadn't needed his mother and father's feelings on his conscience. 

"I'm fine," he turns his head in the direction of the living room as the sound of approaching footsteps reaches his ears. "Don't bring her up again," he tells them both as Cassian comes barreling through the doorway with you and Rayne in tow. 

Both his parents fall silent at that and Jungkook turns his back on them as his son comes up to show what he had drawn with his new rainbow crayons. "Daddy! Daddy! Look what I made!" Discarding the towel on the counter, he crouches down to come eye-level with the boy and as Cassian eagerly points to different parts of the painting, Jungkook glances up to peer at you subtly. 

You're smiling from ear to ear, oblivious to the conversation that had taken place in your absence. The necklace he'd given you last night sits prettily around your neck, its golden hues shimmering softly under the kitchen lights — a constant reminder of his affections, the ones he cannot bring himself say out loud — he hates himself for his own incapability. 

The uncomfortable twist of guilt in his chest returns as he regards the serene expression you wear. His parents had been right, he thinks. 

Jungkook was taking more than he could offer in return — a selfish man he was. 

── [ ✉️ ] Okay... Peeking out from behind my hands very nervously right now. Hopefully the quality wasn't horrible, it was even harder to write this from Jungkook's POV which I did not expect so I honestly don't know how to feel. Hopefully it is okay?