Taehyung dried his hands with a quiet sigh and finally turned to face the two of them. His eyes settled on Matt, unreadable yet sharp in a way Jungkook had learned to notice.
"When are you leaving?" Taehyung asked, his voice polite but firm.
Matt's grin widened like he had been waiting for that exact question. "I thought I would stay the night with you," he said lightly.
The implication in his tone was unmistakable, so clear that even Jungkook, who often pretended not to understand things he should not think about, felt the meaning wrap tightly around the room.
Jungkook felt his breath stutter. He suddenly wanted to vanish into the floor. He did not want to be here, not between these two, not witnessing whatever was happening. He needed to leave. He should leave. But the time displayed on Taehyung's kitchen clock made his stomach drop. It was too late. The buses had slowed. Taxis would be hard to find. The metro was too far to walk to at this hour. He was stuck, in a stranger's penthouse, watching another man casually suggest spending the night with his boss.
Before Jungkook could form a single excuse, Taehyung spoke again. "You should go home, Matt."
The rejection was clean and immediate. Matt blinked, taken aback for the first time that night. Jungkook stared at Taehyung, just as startled. Taehyung did not look angry. He did not look flustered. He simply looked done.
Matt laughed under his breath. "You are kicking me out?"
Taehyung raised an eyebrow, completely unmoved. "Yes."
Something electric passed through the space. Jungkook watched quietly, trying not to breathe too loudly. He knew Taehyung could have easily told Matt to drop him home. It would have been convenient. Logical. Matt had a car. Jungkook had nothing but exhausted legs and a sour fate. But Taehyung made no move to suggest it.
The thought had crossed Taehyung's mind, Jungkook could tell from the tiny hesitation in his posture, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Matt's earlier behavior lingered like a warning in the air. Matt had been too friendly with Jungkook. Too curious. Too interested. And Taehyung, who had known Matt long enough to understand his patterns, clearly did not like it. Taehyung did not trust Matt around him. That was unmistakable.
For a moment Matt simply stared, then finally stood, brushing off invisible dust from his trousers. "Fine. I will leave. But we are talking about this later, Tae."
Taehyung's jaw tightened at the nickname. Matt noticed it and smirked, but he still grabbed his coat and headed toward the door.
Jungkook felt the air loosen only when Matt disappeared down the hallway. He let out a slow breath he had not realized he was holding. Taehyung shut the door quietly, not slamming it, but the subtle click carried a weight that made Jungkook's heart race for reasons he could not name.
Taehyung turned back to him, expression unreadable. Jungkook looked away quickly, pretending to adjust his backpack. He did not want Taehyung to notice how relieved he was. Or how confused. Or how that simple act of Taehyung choosing him over Matt made something hot coil inside his chest.
He should not feel anything. He definitely should not read into things. But the thought stayed with him anyway. Taehyung had asked Matt to leave. Because of him.
Jungkook could not help it. The strange twist of satisfaction that curled in his chest felt embarrassing, childish, and completely inappropriate, yet it heated him from the inside all the same. Taehyung had chosen him. Maybe not in the dramatic way his imagination wanted to exaggerate it into, but still, he had sent Matt away while letting Jungkook stay. The thought settled into Jungkook's stomach like warm honey.
Taehyung brushed his hands against his trousers, as if mentally shifting into something more practical. "You cannot go home at this hour," he said calmly. "I will give you a pair of my clothes."
Jungkook blinked, startled. "Yours?"
"Yes. You are staying here tonight." Taehyung's tone left no space for argument. "Keep your clothes folded neatly. We will leave for the office together in the morning."
Jungkook felt his throat tighten. It should not affect him. It should not make him feel anything. Yet there was something strangely intimate about the idea of wearing Taehyung's clothes, waking up under the same roof, stepping into the office with him side by side.
Taehyung walked ahead, expecting him to follow. Jungkook trailed behind, taking in the quiet luxury of the penthouse. The floors were polished, the lights soft, the air faintly scented with fresh laundry and something warm that he could not place. It felt personal, lived in, not the cold space he had once imagined a man like Taehyung would prefer.
Taehyung stopped in front of a room and pushed the door open. "This is the guest room," he said.
Jungkook stepped inside. The room was simple but elegant. A large bed with fresh sheets. A small bedside table. A wardrobe. Everything was neat, color coordinated, untouched. Clearly prepared for someone far more important than him.
Taehyung walked to the wardrobe, pulled out a soft cotton Tshirt and a pair of sweatpants, and handed them to him. The clothes looked casual, comfortable, and unmistakably Taehyung.
Jungkook held them carefully, almost too carefully. "Thank you," he said quietly.
Taehyung nodded once. "Fold your own clothes and place them on the chair. Do not throw them around the room."
Jungkook bit back a smile, both amused and strangely warmed by the strict instruction. It felt too familiar. Too domestic.
Taehyung looked at him for a moment longer, unreadable as always. Then he turned toward the hallway. "If you need anything, I will be in my room."
Jungkook nodded, though Taehyung had already walked away. When the door closed, Jungkook looked down at the clothes in his hands again. A ridiculous warmth spread through him. He had never been chosen by someone like Taehyung before. Not even in this small, indirect way. It felt dangerous. And he liked it far too much.
Once Jungkook changed into Taehyung's clothes, he stood there for a moment, blinking at his own reflection in the guest room mirror. The fabric was soft, smelling faintly of a clean detergent and something undeniably Taehyung. It was warm and oddly comforting. Before he could stop himself, Jungkook lifted the collar slightly and inhaled again. He immediately felt stupid for doing it, but the scent settled around him like a quiet reminder that he was standing in another man's home wearing another man's clothes.
He looked down at himself properly this time. The shirt fit, but barely. The cotton stretched across his shoulders and upper arms, pulling tighter than it ever would on Taehyung. The sweatpants sat comfortably at his waist but almost hovered above his ankles, just a bit too short. That meant Taehyung was shorter. Jungkook had always known it logically, but seeing the difference on his own body made it real in a way he had not expected.
So Taehyung was smaller. Taehyung was leaner. Taehyung was soft looking in that sweater earlier. And Jungkook was wearing his clothes now, stretching them out in places Taehyung never would.
A strange flutter moved in Jungkook's stomach.
That was when the memory of Matt hit him again, sharp and unwelcome. Matt leaning close to Taehyung. Matt calling him Tae. Matt asking if Jungkook had a boyfriend. Matt interrogating him about queer couples. The implication had been clear enough for anyone with a functioning brain.
If Jungkook's suspicion about Taehyung and Matt being more than friends was correct… then what did that mean?
Jungkook sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, fingers curling into the hem of the shirt he wore. His heart thudded hard inside his chest. If Taehyung really was into men, then… Then what was Jungkook feeling?
The warm twist in his stomach whenever Taehyung looked at him flashed through his mind. The jealousy he felt when Matt leaned in. The ridiculous satisfaction earlier when Taehyung chose to send Matt away yet let Jungkook stay. The steamy dream from last night. His reaction to it. The way his mind replayed Taehyung in a towel without warning.
It all piled together like a storm rolling toward him. He swallowed hard. If Taehyung was really gay… then what did that make him? What was he feeling? Jungkook pressed his palms to his warm face, unable to answer the question. He did not have the courage to even try.
Jungkook lay in the guest bed, staring at the ceiling as if it held the answers to the chaos in his head. The room was quiet, the kind of quiet that should have lulled him to sleep, yet his mind refused to rest. His thoughts kept circling, tripping over themselves until they tangled into one tight knot he could not untie.
He had dated girls before. He was not inexperienced. He remembered his high school girlfriend, how nervous he had been before their first kiss. He remembered the way his heart had fluttered, how his lungs had tightened with excitement when she smiled at him. At the time, he had thought that was what liking someone felt like. That was what attraction meant. That was what love was supposed to be.
But now, lying in Taehyung's clothes, in Taehyung's home, breathing in the faint scent of Taehyung on the collar of the shirt… something felt different. Too different. His chest felt warm in a way he could not explain. His thoughts kept returning to Taehyung's face, the curve of his smile, the softness under the cold exterior.
And it confused him, terrified him, thrilled him all at once. Had he been wrong about himself this entire time? The question kept repeating in his head long into the night, refusing to let him sleep.