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Taehyung, clad in white half-pyjamas and a matching tee with the brand name boldly emblazoned in red on the chest, entered the kitchen. His jet-black hair cascaded down, hiding the nape of his neck, while half of it was elegantly tied in a ponytail. The big black glasses perched on his nose completed his relaxed yet stylish appearance.
Bare feet moved freely across the kitchen floor, a reflection of the laid-back atmosphere on this holiday. A deep sigh escaped him as he swung open the large refrigerator, revealing a stark emptiness except for a lone milk package, scattered fruits, juice cans, and vitamin drinks. The realisation of the one-month-old couple's unfamiliarity with house chores settled in. Taehyung, anticipating a hearty breakfast, felt a pang of disappointment.
The lines on his forehead eased, replaced by a sense of relief as a sweet and soothing scent wafted towards him. Turning around, he beheld Jungkook in a mustard sweater, its full sleeves concealing half of the younger man's fingers. Jungkook's black hair, a departure from his usual slicked-back style, now spreads freely on his forehead.
"Good morning, dad," Jungkook greeted, emphasising the 'dad' oddly, a sweet smile playing on his lips. Taehyung sensed the subtle provocation in Jungkook's tone, an attempt to incite a reaction.
Settling into a chair with a resigned sigh, Taehyung muttered, "Don't call me dad," the phrase sounding strangely unfamiliar and uncomfortable for reasons unknown.
Jungkook smirked, chewing his inner cheek in amusement, and nonchalantly took his place at the table. His fingers traced through his own hair, a tactile echo of the memory of Taehyung's soothing touch. The room hung in a charged stillness, tension building like a storm on the horizon.
"How about Daddy?" Jungkook's voice, a low murmur, lingered in the air, each word almost a moan, teasing and provocative. His dark and mischievous eyes traced the visible veins on Taehyung's hand, a subtle exploration of the man before him.
Taehyung, momentarily distracted, found himself captivated by the inked beauty of Jungkook's arm. The craftsmanship, hidden beneath makeup until now, unfolded before Taehyung's eyes. A silent question lingered: why had Jungkook concealed this artistry?
Leaning back in his chair, Taehyung closed his eyes, a facade of nonchalance masking the currents beneath. "I told you already, I'm not gay. Stop wasting your cheap flirting skills, son-in-law," he asserted, dismissing the playful banter.
Undeterred, Jungkook pressed on, exploring the boundaries with an edge of defiance. "Isn't calling me son-in-law wasting too much of your time? How about my baby or my boy? Or simply my name?" Jungkook's eyes fixed on Taehyung's sharp jawline, fingers yearning to roam.
Taehyung remained unresponsive, his face devoid of emotion. Jungkook, persistent, scrunched his nose in frustration.
"You seem hungry, Mr. Kim. With what can I please your morning?" Jungkook inquired, a hint of temptation still present in his voice.
With an unwavering gaze, Taehyung looked at Jungkook. His voice, steady and devoid of emotion, cut through the tension. "Pushy, or maybe boobs," he deadpanned, a challenge issued with a hint of irritation.
Jungkook's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, blinking rapidly as Taehyung's gaze bore into him. Sigh, it seemed impossible to defeat his father in law, he screamed: victorious.
How beautifully he blushed, Taehyung mused, his thoughts correcting themselves. How beautifully my son-in-law blushed, a man. a naughty kiddo. The delicate hue that adorned Jungkook's cheeks in response to their banter was a captivating sight, and Taehyung couldn't help but appreciate the subtle beauty of it.
wtf?
Stepping away, Taehyung walked back to the refrigerator, a deliberate choice to distance himself from the sweet, freshly bathed scent that lingered around his daughter's husband.
His slender fingers traced the smooth surface of an apple, the physicality of the action grounding him in the midst of charged emotions.
"So you always eat outside?" Taehyung inquired, attempting to steer the conversation into safer waters, a pathway that could lead him to understand Jungkook better now that the younger man was a part of his daughter's life.
Jungkook, in response, emitted a nonchalant hum. "For every hunger, I need to go outside. How unfortunate that my family isn't at my back to help me at every angle, as a family should," he added, his eyes playing a dangerous game, shifting between Taehyung's thighs. Taehyung, catching the double entendre, felt a surge of irritation bubble beneath the surface.
Jungkook's thighs inched closer, a deliberate provocation that didn't go unnoticed by Taehyung. His grip on the apple tightened, and veins newly formed on his hand. Jungkook, his gaze locked on Taehyung, seemed to revel in the subtle power play.
"You better..." Taehyung began, his words cut off by the click of Lisa's door. Her steps echoed, drawing near to the kitchen.
The charged atmosphere seemed to dissipate momentarily, replaced by a semblance of normalcy as they both braced themselves for Lisa's presence. The kitchen, moments ago thick with tension, now held the promise of a temporary reprieve.
Taehyung's eyes rolled, an audible sigh escaping him as they landed on Lisa. She stood in a blue loose tee paired with white shorts; a mosaic of bandages adorned her cheek, each telling a tale of a misadventure, a testament to her dramatic tendencies since childhood. His eyes traced the horizontal and vertical lines of the bandages, wondering if one or two would have sufficed, but the many seemed fitting for Lisa's flair.
Choosing a chair strategically distant from Jungkook's, Taehyung settled back, his attention fully captured by his daughter. The sight of her, deserving of an ambulance with her cheek decked in bandages, elicited a weary shake of his head. Dramatic, as always.
Jungkook, if not burdened by the guilt of being the one who slapped her, might have found humour in Lisa's appearance. Yet he bit his lip, observing her pointedly, ignoring him as if he were invisible. A pang of remorse shot through him as he noticed her slightly swollen eyes, a visible consequence of his own actions.
Taehyung stood, making a deliberate movement, and reached for tamarind juice from the refrigerator, casting alternating glances at Lisa and Jungkook. The room held a palpable tension, the air thick with unspoken words and unacknowledged emotions.
Jungkook, throat slightly cleared, mustered the courage to break the silence. Taehyung sipped the juice; the taste was a sharp contrast to the charged atmosphere.
A flicker of satisfaction crossed Taehyung's expression as Jungkook, looking genuinely remorseful, uttered the words, "I'm sorry," directed at Lisa.
Jungkook's eyes lingered on Taehyung as Lisa remained unresponsive, an impenetrable wall of silence separating them. The moisture welled up in Jungkook's eyes, a stark contrast to the mischievous twinkle they held just moments ago. The weight of intentional harm settled on his shoulders, a burden he had never intended to bear.
As Taehyung took another gulp from his drink, a sudden dryness enveloped his throat, an unexpected reaction to the earnest moisture in Jungkook's eyes.
"I'm sorry, Lisa. I know it wasn't a mere mistake." Jungkook's voice, laced with genuine sadness, carried the weight of regret. His eyes, now near tears, betrayed a vulnerability that hadn't been present before. "I was never abusive before," he confessed, a tear escaping his eye. "I'm sorry, and I promise I'll never do that again. I-If I repeat my mistakes, you can make Mr. Kim punish me however he wants."
Taehyung's raised eyebrow reflected his scepticism, questioning the sincerity of Jungkook's words. Was Jungkook attempting to seduce him in such a delicate situation?
But as Taehyung focused on Jungkook, it became apparent that the intention wasn't to play double entendre. Jungkook's words were earnest, and his plea for forgiveness and redemption was genuine.
Jungkook's words flowed like an unbridled stream—a stream of reassurances and promises that sought forgiveness. Lisa, finally breaking her silence, cast him a glance with a roll of her eyes.
Jungkook promised, "I will take good care of you l-like a good brother."
Their attention shifted to Taehyung, the patriarch, who choked on his drink, a sudden and unexpected reaction that left them puzzled. Confusion painted their expressions as they looked at Taehyung, who hastily slid his chair away and stood before the washbasin.
Water rushed down his throat, then his nose, as if trying to cleanse the intensity with which the juice had reached his brain. The word "brother" echoed in his mind, a perplexing revelation that left him dumbfounded.
"Are you okay, dad? What happened?" Lisa inquired, concern etched on her face.
Turning, Taehyung wiped his face with the white sleeves of his tee, his eyes glaring at Jungkook. A pout of confusion adorned Jungkook's face as he wondered what he had done to deserve such a reaction.
"Youngsters these days are ridiculous," Taehyung sighed, gritting his teeth, leaving Lisa and Jungkook equally perplexed. Grabbing an apple, he walked away to his room, his departure leaving behind lingering confusion.
Jungkook looked at Lisa, arching an eyebrow, silently questioning what had just transpired. Lisa, equally clueless, shrugged her shoulders.
...to be continued...
[author's note✒: it's important to clarify that I'm not in support of any form of abuse or trying to normalise it. If you or someone you know is facing abuse in real life, please take it seriously. Love yourself, value your well-being, and consider taking appropriate actions against any form of mistreatment. Your safety and happiness are paramount.💜💫]