PROJECT K001

Untitled Part 55

The days following the garden quietude began to shift with palpable tension—not inside the mansion, but at its perimeter. As the city buzzed louder with theories, interviews, and veiled curiosity, the inner sanctuary where Jungkook lived remained untouched by the chaos, thanks to the unyielding vigilance of the Kim twins.

But that calm wouldn't hold forever.

The gala was approaching.

And though Jungkook remained blissfully unaware of the depth of its implications, both V and Taehyung had begun preparing—meticulously, quietly, and with the sort of strategic foresight only men like them could execute. The mansion transformed. Staff moved with silent urgency. Suits were tailored, security systems reviewed, guest lists dissected name by name. Only the best would be seen, and only the bold would step into that gilded hall under the twins' protection.

Jungkook, meanwhile, was painting again.

A large canvas sat in the center of his sun-drenched art room—half-finished, moody swaths of color bleeding into pale whites, the image just beginning to form. He didn't speak much as he worked, lost in thought, but his strokes were faster, sharper, more precise. Something in him had clicked open since the reveal. He no longer feared the eyes of others—not when Dada and Daddy stood behind him like twin shadows of fire.

He hummed softly as he painted, bare feet streaked with dry blue pigment. A lazy bun crowned his head. He hadn't noticed the door open, but both Taehyung and V stood there now, watching him with the quiet intensity only they knew how to express without words.

"He's blooming," Taehyung said under his breath.

"He was always meant to."

"He should never see that ballroom."

V's jaw tightened, eyes fixed on Jungkook's swaying back. "But we'll walk in beside him. Not as a secret."

Taehyung's brows furrowed, hesitation flickering in his gaze. "But his identity—"

"Won't be revealed." V's voice dropped to steel. "Not unless someone forces our hand."

They stood in silence for another moment before stepping inside.

Jungkook turned with a bright grin the moment he noticed them. "You guys look serious. Did someone burn the kitchen again?"

V arched a brow. "That was you, last week."

"Was not!" Jungkook huffed, then grinned guiltily. "Okay, it was... but it was just toast!"

"You nearly lit the curtain on fire."

"I said I was sorry."

"And wore Taehyung's shirt as an apron," V added, deadpan.

Jungkook blinked. "It was cute!"

Taehyung sighed dramatically. "It had silk buttons, Koo."

Jungkook pouted then, lower lip jutting out in that practiced, weaponized way he knew was dangerous. He turned, slowly dragging the tip of his paintbrush over his collarbone like a cat preening. "Dada... forgive me?"

Taehyung's ears flushed immediately. "That's not fair—"

"And you, Daddy?" Jungkook cooed, glancing at V beneath his lashes. "Still mad?"

V stepped forward slowly, his eyes dark, lips tilting. "If you weren't covered in oil paint right now, I'd show you just how not mad I am."

Jungkook stilled.

Then, with a wicked grin, he turned and smacked a blue handprint onto the front of V's expensive black shirt. The splatter was vivid, childishly placed right over his heart.

"Oh no," he whispered, eyes round. "I guess now you are mad?"

Taehyung burst into laughter, collapsing into the nearby chaise, while V stared down at the mess on his chest with a smirk that promised mischief.

"You little menace."

"I prefer baby chaos," Jungkook chirped before darting away, giggling, as both twins lunged after him.

The chase ended in a tangled mess on the sunroom floor—V pinning Jungkook down, Taehyung straddling his hips, their fingers smeared with streaks of blue and white. Jungkook squirmed, breathless from laughter, chest heaving beneath the press of their bodies.

"You two are heavy," he wheezed.

"You're asking for punishment," V said softly, brushing paint from his cheek.

Taehyung leaned down, voice low. "You sure you can handle it?"

Jungkook blinked, body tensing just slightly at the subtle shift in the air. The moment turned heavier—less playful, more charged. Their weight over him wasn't oppressive. It was possessive.

And Jungkook liked it far too much.

"I can," he whispered, shy but unwavering.

And in that moment, with both twins hovering over him, eyes dark and fixed with tender hunger, Jungkook saw again—he was wanted. Equally. Not as a burden passed between two men but as a shared heartbeat they both cherished.

The intimacy that followed was slow, unhurried, threaded with soft touches and deep sighs. There was no rush, no frenzy—just the sacred kind of closeness that made the paint-streaked floor feel like a sanctuary. Fingers tangled. Foreheads touched. Murmurs spilled into skin like spilled sunlight.

Jungkook lay between them afterward, curled and content, his cheek resting against V's chest while Taehyung traced lazy circles along his spine.

"I like being between you," he murmured sleepily.

"We like you there," Taehyung whispered.

"You belong nowhere else," V said firmly.

—

That night, V made the first call to Han Jae-Hwan's secretary.

They would attend the gala.

The invitation was accepted within seconds.

But before they would step into that ballroom, every stone had to be turned.

Jungkook's name was now whispered behind every polished door in the city. Boardrooms filled with theories. Rival dynasties speculated on the connection. Koo's fame had spread like wildfire—and the mystery only deepened as no photo of the artist had surfaced. Not a single clue.

And then came the real danger.

A leak.

One small breach.

An anonymous forum thread.

"Koo is not just an artist. He's connected to the Kim family. Intimately."

It was vague.

But the twins knew what followed vague.

They were running out of time.

—

That evening, as dusk fell, Jungkook stood at the balcony with a robe draped loosely around him. The city sparkled below, unaware of the storm about to brew.

Taehyung came up behind him first, wrapping arms around his middle, pressing a kiss to his neck. "You looked beautiful today," he murmured.

Jungkook leaned into him. "So did you."

Then V joined them, tucking in at his other side, pulling the robe tighter around him. "You know we'll protect you, right?"

Jungkook nodded, gaze distant. "Even if I walk into that gala?"

V's hand slid under his chin, tilting it upward. "Especially then."

"And you won't let them touch me?"

"Never," Taehyung whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple.

He turned between them then, letting them hold him, the weight of the world light in their arms. And for a brief moment, Jungkook believed it would be okay.

But the world was watching.

And the ballroom was waiting.