PROJECT K001

Untitled Part 25

The dawn that poured over the mansion was thick with silence—not the haunted kind that once echoed between stone walls, but something newer, weightier. There were no hushed footsteps or distant staff murmurs. No chirping from the garden birds that Jungkook always found so amusing. Just a hush. As if the whole estate was holding its breath.

In the master bedroom, sunlight scattered across tangled sheets, warm skin, and half-opened lips.

Jungkook lay nestled between them—his head resting on Taehyung's chest, one leg thrown across V's thigh. He was small in that moment. Not just in his little space, but small, in the way that made both twins look at him with something beyond fondness. Something primal. Possessive.

Taehyung had his arm curled around Jungkook's waist, hand splayed against the younger's soft belly. V's fingers were gently stroking Jungkook's hair, brushing it out of his eyes with the kind of tenderness no one would believe him capable of.

They hadn't spoken much the night before.

After the switch, after the kisses, after that shared breath of something far too intimate... silence had replaced words. But not distance. No, they had held him tighter. Let him sleep between them like he was their anchor.

He stirred now.

A soft, sleepy whimper left him, followed by a tiny pout as he nuzzled closer to Taehyung's chest.

"Dada..."

Taehyung's breath caught.

A part of him still wasn't used to the title.

Another part—one far more dangerous—was addicted to it.

"Yes, baby?" he whispered.

"'M hungry," Jungkook mumbled, eyes still closed.

V's chuckle was quiet and low. "Of course you are."

Jungkook's pout deepened as he burrowed under the covers.

"Wanna pancakes. With chocolate chips. And lots of s'rup."

Taehyung smiled faintly, leaning down to press a kiss to Jungkook's temple.

"You'll get your pancakes," he murmured. "Come on, let's get dressed."

Jungkook whimpered. "Nooo. Dun wanna wear pants..."

"You're not going down to the kitchen naked, baby," V said dryly, though his voice carried clear amusement. "Unless you want to give Mrs. Yun a heart attack."

"'M not nakey," Jungkook argued with a sleepy frown, tugging the sheets up. "I got Daddy's shirt on."

That made both men pause.

Taehyung tilted his head. "You're wearing V's shirt?"

Jungkook nodded proudly. "Smells like him."

V's lips curved into a smug smirk as he looked over at Taehyung.

"I win."

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. "It's not a competition."

"Isn't it?"

Jungkook watched them from beneath the sheets, eyes fluttering open, wide and glassy.

"'S not a game..." he whispered, so softly they barely heard.

That single phrase stilled the air.

V looked down at him, the smirk gone.

"No, baby. It's not."

Jungkook sniffled.

Taehyung was already pulling him gently into his arms again. "Don't cry, sweetheart. We're just teasing. You're not a prize. You're... you're ours."

That calmed him a little. His eyes fluttered closed again as he nodded against Taehyung's chest.

Later that morning, the atmosphere at the long breakfast table was dramatically different from the gentle warmth of their shared bed.

Jungkook sat between them, freshly dressed in a soft oversized hoodie (gray with little cartoon bears across the sleeves) and thick socks that skidded a little when he walked. His lips were glossy from syrup, a bite of pancake perched precariously on his fork.

Mrs. Yun had outdone herself.

The table was full—fluffy pancakes stacked high, whipped cream shaped into roses, butter melting over warm toast, and golden honey glistening in its glass jar.

Yet, tension buzzed beneath the surface.

V had his phone in hand. Taehyung had a laptop open beside his plate.

And Jungkook was watching them.

They hadn't spoken a word since they sat down. Only brief glances. Subtle. Calculated.

Jungkook knew.

They were avoiding something.

"You're going somewhere," he said suddenly, voice quieter than the clink of cutlery.

Both men froze.

V looked up first. "We have meetings."

"Important ones," Taehyung added. "We need to leave by noon."

Jungkook chewed slowly, eyes never leaving theirs.

"You didn't tell me."

V sighed, setting his phone down. "We weren't hiding it, sweetheart."

"But you didn't say it either."

Taehyung reached for his hand across the table. "We didn't want to overwhelm you. Yesterday was a lot. We thought—"

"You thought I couldn't handle being left alone?" Jungkook asked, voice still sweet, still soft—but with that dangerous little edge curling at the corners.

"No," V said slowly, "we thought we needed to be careful."

"With me?" Jungkook blinked.

"With us," Taehyung corrected.

But the words didn't seem to soothe him.

Because in that moment, Jungkook realized something brutal.

The twins still hadn't let go.

Of control. Of fear. Of the trauma they'd buried deep under suits and boardrooms and marble floors. They were loosening—but not entirely.

And he—he was both the cure and the threat.

He stood up slowly, setting his fork down with deliberate grace.

"I don't need babysitting," he said. "I'm not made of glass."

V's jaw tensed. "We know."

"Do you?"

He looked at them then—really looked—and something in his eyes burned.

"I may look small. I may act soft. But I'm the one you married. The one who walked into your quiet warzone and didn't flinch."

Taehyung's gaze darkened.

"You're right."

"I know."

The silence that followed was scorching.

Jungkook turned without another word and walked toward the stairs, hoodie swaying around his thighs.

V let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Taehyung closed his laptop. "We have to bring him in."

V's gaze snapped to him. "What?"

"Into the business. Not the mafia part. Not yet. But... he needs a role. A position. Something."

V rubbed his jaw. "That would be chaos."

"It's already chaos," Taehyung said with a bitter laugh. "He is the chaos."

There was a pause.

And then V said, "Alright."

But the look in his eyes was dangerous.

Possessive.

Because if Jungkook was going to step into their world—

He'd belong to them in every possible way.