PROJECT K001

Untitled Part 28

The morning tiptoed in quietly, draped in the pale gray of passing clouds. Rain had come sometime before dawn, tapping gently against the windowpanes like a reminder that the world outside still moved. But inside the estate, time seemed to drip differently. Slower. Thicker. Like warm honey sliding down porcelain.

Jungkook stirred slowly beneath the mountain of silken blankets tangled over the fainting couch in the conservatory. The sketchbook still lay against his chest, one hand gripping it tightly in sleep, the other curled like a kitten's paw near his cheek. His long lashes fluttered once—twice—before he blinked awake, nose twitching.

His lips parted in a yawn so wide it nearly folded him in two. "Dadaaa..." he mumbled, voice syrupy and hushed, the lilt of his little space still heavy in his tone. He wasn't sure which one he was calling for. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Maybe the sound just made him feel less alone.

The cushion beneath him shifted.

Not a dream. Not a memory. A warm, heavy thigh—broad enough to cradle him without question—rested under his side. When he tilted his head, sleep-bleary and confused, his vision cleared just enough to recognize the delicate gold threading of V's robe.

Daddy.

V sat with one hand at his temple, fingers massaging gently, as if he were nursing a headache he hadn't spoken aloud. His eyes remained closed, but his other hand was tangled absently in Jungkook's hair, the motion slow and mechanical.

"Koo hungry..."

The words fell out without thought, barely above a whisper. His stomach grumbled just in time to add weight to his plea.

V didn't answer immediately. But his hand stilled. And then, with measured calm, he murmured, "You said that three hours ago. You fell asleep before I could feed you."

Jungkook blinked, slow and unsure, before sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the back of his wrist. "Still hungry now..."

V opened his eyes then, just barely. The warm gray was darker this morning, more stormcloud than silver. "Go wake your Dada. You're not climbing all over me while I'm still trying to tame this migraine."

Jungkook frowned at that. Not because of the dismissal. But because Daddy had used the you're tone again. The one that placed a gentle fence between them. Not cold, but not warm.

"Koo can be careful," he offered meekly. "No bouncing. Just cuddle."

"You bounce even when you promise not to," V muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Go on."

Pouting, Jungkook slid off his lap, trailing silk and sleepy sniffles like a shadow. The floors felt cold under his feet. Daddy didn't say another word.

—

The east wing was warmer. Always was. Maybe it was Taehyung's presence. Maybe it was just coincidence. Either way, Jungkook padded toward the master suite with familiar comfort, his toes curling on the plush rugs.

He didn't bother knocking. Didn't have to. The door was already cracked, and soft music filtered through—classic jazz, low and humming like it lived in the bones of the house.

Taehyung sat on the edge of the bed, only halfway dressed—white shirt unbuttoned, long legs clad in tailored slacks, hair still damp from a shower that left the room smelling like sandalwood.

He looked up just in time to catch Jungkook mid-tiptoe.

"Well, well. Did the ghost boy escape from Daddy's side again?"

Jungkook's pout reappeared. "He said no cuddles."

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. "Did you ask gently?"

"Koo whispered," he insisted. "And Koo's belly said grrrrr!"

That drew a low chuckle. Taehyung stood, smoothing the hem of his shirt down. "Let's go fix that before your tummy scares off the staff again."

He held out a hand, palm up. Jungkook took it immediately, weaving his fingers between Taehyung's like a child gripping a balloon string.

—

The kitchen staff had learned, by now, to expect chaos whenever the littlest resident entered. But the sight of two Kims flanking a sleepy, silk-draped, bed-headed Jungkook was still rare enough to draw a few startled stares.

Taehyung moved with quiet authority, directing the head chef to prepare a brunch tray of miniature portions. He lifted Jungkook onto the marble island himself and tucked the silk robe tighter around his small frame.

"Don't even think about jumping off that counter," he warned softly, brushing a kiss to the crown of his head.

Jungkook beamed. "Dada kiss make tummy feel better."

Taehyung paused at that, eyes crinkling. "Does it?"

"Koo likes kisses. And pancakes."

"Then you're in luck."

—

Thirty minutes later, Jungkook sat cross-legged between the twins in the reading parlor, a tray balanced precariously on his lap as he attacked a bowl of whipped cream-topped fruit. Taehyung was sprawled sideways on the couch beside him, nursing a coffee. V sat opposite, legs crossed, flipping through morning reports on a sleek tablet.

The air between them was... civil. Too civil.

Jungkook sensed it—something thick and unsaid. Not anger. Not yet. But not ease, either. There was too much awareness. Too much calculation in the glances they exchanged.

He stuffed a strawberry in his mouth and kicked his foot lightly. "Why no talking?"

V looked up. Taehyung glanced over the rim of his mug.

"What do you mean?" Taehyung asked.

"You two're quiet. Like library quiet."

V spoke next, tapping something on his screen. "Some mornings need quiet."

Jungkook squinted, suspicious. "You fighting?"

"No," Taehyung said.

"Yes," V muttered under his breath.

Jungkook's eyes widened. "Koo didn't do it!"

Both twins turned at that.

V sighed. Taehyung leaned forward, brows drawing down. "Do what, bunny?"

"Make you mad. Make the air weird."

Taehyung's heart cracked slightly at the honesty in that voice. "No, sweetheart. This isn't about you."

"But I sit in the middle," Jungkook whispered, poking his chest. "Koo always in the middle."

V closed the tablet with a soft snap. "And you think that means you caused the tension?"

Jungkook nodded slowly.

Taehyung moved first. He reached over, slid the tray off Jungkook's lap, and pulled him into his arms. "Listen to me, Jungkookie," he murmured against his hair. "You are not the problem. If anything, you're the only softness in this house."

V stood, walked to the window. Silence.

Jungkook sniffled. "But Daddy don't cuddle today..."

"That's not your fault either." Taehyung kissed his forehead. "We'll fix it. All three of us. Just give Daddy a little time."

—

Later that night, Jungkook curled in his nest of blankets on the velvet chaise, peeking out toward the empty doorway. V hadn't come back after dinner.

Taehyung had tucked him in gently, stayed until his breathing evened—but even then, Jungkook kept one ear tuned toward the hallway.

"Daddy..." he whispered, voice small. "Koo sorry you headache."

The words hung in the air like dust in moonlight, unanswered.

But he didn't stop hoping.

Not yet.