"She's completely capable of choosing for herself what she wants to wear!"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Tae, she's four. Who even gave you the license to be a father?"
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where Jungkook and Taehyung get thrown into the role of a dad way too fast
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Namg-il, 05. 31 PM
Jungkook refuses to believe that his athletic toned legs on which he spent so much time, can only carry him this fast as he nearly skips three stairs at a time, wanting to be in Taehyung's room quicker.
The call that he received from Yoongi a few hours ago had been clear.
Tae's sick. The kids are at mine. Come home.
And though Jungkook would rather have a crocodile crush his skull with its teeth while he's being fed his mother's awfully (not) tasty stew than admit it, his heart squeezes just a tiny bit, and his body leaps up on its own, demanding of him to drive home immediately.
Which he doesn't, of course.
Yeah. Yeah, he does.
He makes a usually 3-hour-long drive into an hour and a half, telling his manager some half-assed excuse that even he himself wouldn't buy but his teammate, Johnny, nods his head in understanding and Jungkook figures that if he managed to convince the biggest dumbass than it wouldn't hurt to try it on the others. So he does.
He currently has 47 missed calls, a few unanswered messages, and a headache, but his heart wouldn't stop calling after Taehyung.
Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung.
It's literally the only thing his mind can produce right now and Jungkook knows if he'd be in the realm right now, his skin would be littered with bruises and maybe even some broken bones - with that justification, he gladly satisfies his uneasiness and head home a few days before intended.
With a few wasted breaths, Jungkook bursts through Taehyung's door with the vigor of an upset kid with a sugar rush but he's only greeted with a cold room, the window open wide for the wind to break through the curtains, flapping them around carelessly.
His head starts pounding rhythmically with his heart as he fists his hair in frustration, glancing around the bedroom if he can spot him anywhere.
As Taehyung's nowhere in sight, Jungkook almost gives up thinking the other's in hospital, probably seriously injured, maybe even in a fucking coma, but then he hears his unmistakable laughter from down the hall.
From his room.
Footing steady and his heart doing acrobatic flips, Jungkook follows the ginger joyful sound and twists the doorknob, pushing the door wide open.
Surely so, Taehyung is there, his eyes glow in the dim lighting of the bedside lamp and his honey-colored skin glistens with sweat, his fringe plastered on his forehead - but he's not alone.
Jungkook's worried expression quickly fades as he marks the other male in the room, one that he had never seen and surely wishes he will never have to again - the man is tall, slightly taller than Jungkook (who just wishes Taehyung doesn't give that much on height), with a lean athletic figure and pitch-black hair that's swatted neatly from his forehead (gosh, Jungkook really can't compete with that right now- he currently looks like he just had lunch in Shrek's swamp and thoroughly enjoyed it). He's sitting on the bed beside a laying Taehyung, his hands planted firmly on the smaller's bare chest and honestly, Jungkook feels like he just entered a cheap porno where he's the cheated husband that walked in on his hot man making out with an equally as hot man.
