PROJECT K001

Untitled Part 32

Taehyung didn't pretend. "I did."

"And now what?" V's tone was unreadable. "You think he's yours?"

"I don't think, hyung. I feel. And I'm not the only one who does."

Silence.

The kind that cracked mountains.

V set his glass down carefully, then turned with slow, calculated grace. "He calls you Dada. He calls me Daddy. And do you even realize what that means?"

Taehyung's jaw flexed. "Do you?"

There was heat now. Not the kind that burned, but the kind that simmered beneath the surface of men who had been at war without ever raising swords.

"We're dividing him," V said finally, stepping closer. "Bit by bit. And you know what happens when you stretch something fragile between two hands..."

Taehyung's voice was low. Dangerous. "He isn't fragile."

"He's not built for our kind of chaos," V snapped. "And if you force him to choose, it'll break him."

"Then don't make him choose," Taehyung countered. "Let's not turn this into a game of wins and losses. You were the one who first held him. I was the one who made him feel safe. We both have blood on our hands now."

For a moment, V looked at him. And beneath the frost of his gaze was something wounded. Something lost.

And maybe... something afraid.

"I'm not sharing him," V whispered, voice thin with something Taehyung had never heard before—uncertainty.

"You already are."

—

Jungkook wandered the hallway like a ghost.

He had tried to stay upstairs, curled in the nest of blankets that still smelled like Taehyung, but the house felt too quiet. Too cold. And the thrum of unease in his chest grew louder with each tick of the antique grandfather clock.

His bare feet padded against the marble as he reached the top of the staircase—then froze.

Voices.

Low. Sharp. Familiar.

He crept closer, breath held.

"...if you make him feel like a possession, he will run," Taehyung was saying. "And he won't run to me. He'll run from us."

"I know what I'm doing," V's voice growled. "I know how to keep what's mine."

Jungkook's heart stuttered.

He turned and walked away before he could hear more.

He didn't know where he was going.

Only that he couldn't stay.

—

The garden had always been quiet. Untouched. But today, as clouds rolled back and sunlight bathed the hedgerows in dew-glow gold, Jungkook found himself crouched beneath the old willow tree, arms wrapped around his knees.

His mind was a mess. His heart even worse.

He didn't understand what he was supposed to feel.

Loved?

Pulled?

Possessed?

All he knew was that the warmth of Taehyung's arms, and the way V had cupped his face with almost painful gentleness... it mattered.

He mattered.

And maybe that was the most terrifying part.

Because if he mattered this much to both of them, what would happen when they could no longer agree on what to do with him?

"Why're you cryin', Koo?"

The voice made him jerk upright.

A new one.

Female.

Jungkook blinked through his tears, and there, crouched beside him in black boots and a grey coat, was—

"Noona...?"

Niki Park smiled gently, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Told you I'd come check on you this week, remember?"

His assistant.

His only friend in the outside world.

And right now, perhaps, the only person who didn't see him as something to win.

He burst into tears and launched into her arms.

And for the first time in weeks, Jungkook felt small—but not trapped. Held—but not possessed.

It was a beginning.

But beginnings always come with endings trailing close behind.

And somewhere, behind dark windows and glassed-in secrets, two men stared out at the garden from opposite ends of the house, their hearts pounding in sync for the same boy.

Neither of them knew what the next move would be.

But they both knew one thing.

They couldn't lose him.

Not now.

Not ever.