Jungkook's POV
The silence in the car after Taehyung's vague answer wasn't awkward; it was charged. Jungkook felt the subtle shift in Taehyung's energy, the way he seemed to be holding his breath. It was a clear sign of his inner turmoil, and Jungkook understood it better than anyone. He knew Taehyung was with Jennie, knew he was supposed to be keeping his distance, but the universe seemed to conspire to throw them together. And now, Jungkook was going to lean into it.
He drove past Taehyung's usual turn-off for his apartment, heading towards the park. He saw Taehyung's head tilt, a flicker of surprise in his peripheral vision. Jungkook kept his eyes on the road, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips. He wasn't going to let this connection, this pull, simply fade away again. Not after finding him.
He pulled into a secluded parking spot at the far end of the city park, away from the main entrance and the casual evening strollers. The rain had softened to a gentle drizzle, a quiet curtain around them. He cut the engine, plunging the car into a sudden, intimate silence, broken only by the soft patter of rain on the windshield.
"Where are we?" Taehyung's voice was a low whisper, almost a breath.
Jungkook finally turned to him, the dim light from the dashboard casting soft shadows on Taehyung's face. He could see the curiosity, the apprehension, and something else – a deep, almost desperate longing that mirrored his own.
"Just... a quieter spot," Jungkook murmured, his voice equally low. "To talk. No distractions." He paused, letting his gaze sweep over Taehyung's face, tracing the curve of his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose. "You looked like you needed a break, hyung."
Taehyung swallowed hard, his eyes dropping to Jungkook's lips for a fleeting second before snapping back to his eyes. The air in the car thickened, humming with an unspoken tension that was almost unbearable.
"I..." Taehyung started, then hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. I guess I do."
Jungkook reached out slowly, his hand hovering for a moment. He wanted to cup Taehyung's cheek, to brush the stray strands from his forehead, to feel the warmth of his skin against his palm. But he stopped himself, his fingers gently brushing Taehyung's arm, just above the elbow. It was a light touch, meant to be comforting, but the immediate jolt that shot through both of them was anything but innocent.
Taehyung's breath hitched, and his gaze snapped down to where Jungkook's fingers lightly rested on his arm. Even through the fabric of his suit jacket, the warmth, the connection, was electric. Jungkook felt the subtle tremor in Taehyung's arm, a clear sign of his awareness, his vulnerability.
Jungkook's thumb, almost imperceptibly, stroked the fabric of Taehyung's jacket, a small, intimate gesture that spoke volumes. He saw Taehyung's pupils dilate, his lips part slightly. The craving to bridge the small gap between them, to finally close the distance of years, was a burning ache in Jungkook's chest. He could feel Taehyung leaning in, just a fraction, a silent invitation.
The rain continued its soft rhythm on the roof, the only sound accompanying the frantic pounding of their hearts.
The air was thick with unspoken words, with years of longing, and with a touch that promised everything forbidden.