Jungkook dragged his feet, along with his ponderous heart, towards the storage room at eight as usual.

That odious feeling of wistfulness was deep-rooted in his core, and he was incapable of banishing it or even soothing it just a notch. It was as if a part of him was missing. And nothing could fill the inflictive void within him, no matter how many days passed.

It had been almost two weeks since the day Taehyung left. And fuck, he missed him. Not the sex, but him. His vibrant, boxy smile, his chocolate eyes that always projected such warmth and fondness for him, his comforting embrace, his loving kisses. He missed his presence like nothing before.

Jungkook entered the storage room and greeted his hyungs as he took his seat. “Anything new?”

“No,” Seokjin said, while Yoongi tucked his chin into his chest at the question to avoid eye contact.

Yoongi had something new to tell, and that was the two back-to-back calls Taehyung made about an hour ago, which he ignored. He thought if they didn’t accept his help anymore, he would stop meddling, and he could only wish Taehyung would get the message this way.

“Let’s call Ji Hoo to see if he has news,” Jungkook proposed.

“Um, I’ll call him.” Yoongi slipped his phone out of his pocket and tapped on his name. A slight crease bloomed between his brows as it kept ringing with no response.

“He’s not picking up?” Namjoon asked.

“Hmm.” Yoongi lowered the phone when the call ended and tried once more. And again it rang for a bit, but his voice sounded this time.

“What?”

“Where are you? Let’s meet.”

“I’m busy.”

“With what?”

“Not your business. I’ll call you when I have time.”

Yoongi stared at the phone with a scowl once Ji Hoo hung up on him. “What the fuck?”

“What did he say?” asked Jungkook.

“That he’s busy and hung up.”

A frown of consideration crept over Jungkook’s face. “He’s hiding something.”

“Should I track his phone?” Namjoon suggested and hurried out of the room to get his laptop when he received a nod from Jungkook.

Seokjin viewed the younger subtly, a small warm smile etched on his lips. “How are you, Kook?”

Jungkook snatched a beer from the table, sighing. “The same, hyung. Don’t ask me every day.”

“You seem better now that you have no contact with him,” Yoongi ventured, hesitant.

“Better?” Jungkook scoffed in a hushed tone. “I’m in hell, hyung.”

Yoongi’s eyes dove to the beer in his hands. The thought that he should tell him Taehyung called leaped into his mind, but it went away just as fast.

Namjoon was soon back, and he set the laptop on the table as he sat down. He typed away on the keyboard, getting everything ready to trace Ji Hoo’s phone. All eyes were trained on him, and he raised his head once he got the results. “He turned off his phone. His last location was at the port.”

“What?” Yoongi asked with apparent mystification. “Don’t tell me he left.”

“It’s possible,” Namjoon uttered. “I can’t locate him if he doesn’t turn on his phone.”

And so, with the bitter realization that they could do nothing to find him, they spent a couple more hours chatting vaguely and drinking their problems away. They usually drank a bottle of beer or soju each, but since Taehyung left, Jungkook always guzzled at least two. His hyungs — and mostly Seokjin — pestered him not to drink more than a bottle, though he didn’t listen. So he settled for two.

 
It was almost ten when Yoongi’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to check the caller. The line of his mouth tightened at the sight of Taehyung’s name, and he pressed the volume button to cease the vibration.

Jungkook watched as his hyung placed the phone on the table with the screen down. “Who is it?”

“No one.”

“Hyung.”

Yoongi met his gaze, and they shared a taut stare that lasted for a stretch. Until a sigh spewed from him and his eyes rolled in a circle of exasperation. “It’s Taehyung, okay? And no, I won’t call him back. Hearing his voice does no good to you.”

A dose of gloom cruised over Jungkook’s traits at the mention of his name. “Maybe he found out something.”

“I don’t care,” he snarled. “You’ll get depressed again. I can’t see that again.”

“I’m depressed all the fucking time!” With a strength Jungkook didn’t know he had, his voice erupted from him in a boisterous growl. A short silence ensued as the resonance of the said growl buzzed in the room. His eyes dashed to Yoongi’s phone when it vibrated again. “Just because I’m not crying doesn’t mean I’m better. So answer the damn phone.”

Yoongi swept his phone from the table and opened Taehyung’s message. All stubbornness and harshness from his features died out and instead an overriding alarm seized them. “Locate Taehyung’s phone right fucking now!” He hastened to call him back, his heart rattling in extreme anxiety.

“What happened?” Jungkook spluttered with a similar restless countenance.

Yoongi pounded his fist on the table when the call ended on its own, and he tried again. “I’m sorry, Jungkook. Taehyung said his father is with Kang Soo right now, and he followed him. And he’s not picking up his fucking phone now, fuck!”

Jungkook’s forehead was bombarded with creases of hopelessness as his breath burst from him in sharp, discontinuous puffs. A thin layer of dampness fogged his vision real quick, and his heartbeat thumped in his ears in a thunderous roar.

“Yah, maybe he’s fine,” Seokjin hurried to say as he perceived his fear-stricken state.

“Taehyung is in Yeosu.”

Yoongi called him again as he jerked up. “We can be there in two hours if we take the yacht. Go call Han Gyeol to take us there now.”

Namjoon sent Taehyung’s location to his phone and shut the laptop, then scurried out of the room. Yoongi peeked at Jungkook, who seemed to be plunged into a dolorous trance and convulsed him. “Snap the fuck out of it. Let’s go to Taehyung.”

The blankness from Jungkook’s characteristics wrung with rampant fury, and he propelled to his feet. He grasped Yoongi’s shirt and wrenched him closer, different muscles in his face twitching as he endeavored to leash the avalanche of vile emotions whirling inside him. “If something happens to him... it’s on you. And I’ll never forgive you.”

Seokjin drew nearer to the two and pulled Jungkook back. “We don’t have time for this. Go. I’ll stay behind to take care of the hostel.”

Jungkook wore his mask and stormed past Yoongi, bumping his shoulder on purpose. The other soon rushed behind him and said nothing when he caught up with him.

They found Namjoon with Han Gyeol already in the latter’s car outside of the hostel, waiting for them. “Everyone here?” Han Gyeol, one of their men who worked at the hostel as well, asked.

“Yes. Go as fast as possible,” Yoongi said.

“What about Seokjin?” Namjoon asked as he kept glancing towards the entrance.

“He’ll stay here.” Yoongi banged the seat on repeat when a recorded message sounded that informed him Taehyung’s phone was off. His chest felt as if it were afire by the explosions of dejected frustration that hammered it.

Jungkook spectated his frenzied salvo through vicious eyes, caring little about it. “I fucking hate you so much right now, hyung.”

“Yeah, I hate me too.” Yoongi called him again and again in vain. “How was I supposed to know he would fucking follow his father again?”

Although impossible, Jungkook’s wrath seemed to flare at the spontaneous revelation. “What do you mean ‘again’?”

Yoongi’s head hung back in overwhelming defeat. “I lied before. Taehyung had followed his father to that meeting.”

Jungkook dipped his face into his hands, warring with his self-control to smother the screams of frustration that desperately wanted to escape him. “I can’t fucking believe you. I can’t... fucking... Fuck!” He gripped his hair, squeezing his closed eyes, as all he could feel was pure rage.

“You didn’t have to know that!” Yoongi roared back at him. “And it’s not my fucking fault if something happens to him. He got himself into this mess.”

Jungkook whipped his head in his direction, ready to hurl a rumbling tirade at him, but the car screeched to a halt before he could.

“The yacht is right there. Let’s go,” Han Gyeol said, then he stepped out of the car and locked it once everyone followed his lead.

They hurried into the yacht one by one, and Han Gyeol headed at the helm right away, as the others entered the medium-sized luxurious cabin.

A strained hush bore down on them and haunted them for a long, long time. All Jungkook could think about was Taehyung and if he was okay, as Yoongi called him often to check if he turned on his phone and blamed himself for not accepting his first call.

“Yoongi hyung...” Jungkook said, voice wan like his heart. A curtain of despondency had outplaced any fragment of fury in his expression for a while now, as he could easily identify the relentless, internal chaos in Yoongi’s mind. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

Yoongi exhaled deeply as he closed his weathered eyes. “It is. I fucked up because I thought I was helping you. I should have known Taehyung wouldn’t stop. I’m an idiot.”

“What infuriated me more is that you lied to me. And didn’t tell me Taehyung followed his father that day. Why... Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want to worry you for nothing. I found out after Taehyung had already started following him. And Jimin told me he talked to him and he was okay.”

Jungkook tinkered with his hands, eyes anchored on the listless movements. “Maybe what infuriated me more is that Taehyung lied to me,” he whispered with a bitterness so intense it perforated his hyungs’ forms, creating tiny holes of sadness.

“Taehyung seems too stubborn, Kook,” Namjoon said. “I don’t think... staying away from him will keep him out of danger. He keeps endangering himself on his own.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Jungkook sensed a burning around his nose as he spewed these words, but he fenced in the looming tears.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi muttered as he took hold of his phone again and called Taehyung. His eyes bulged unnaturally once a beep was heard instead of the usual recorded message. “His phone is on. Fuck, he hung up.”

Namjoon made haste to check his location. “He’s still in that house.”

“His father caught him and probably took his phone,” Jungkook guessed. “If he reads the message Taehyung sent you, he’ll be in danger.”

“We’re ten minutes away,” Namjoon informed. “Everything will be fine.”

Jungkook could only pray his words would come true because he would go fucking berserk if something happened to him.

 
The yacht soon slowed down, and the three exited the cabin. “I’ll wait for you,” Han Gyeol said, and they got off the yacht.

“How long?” Jungkook asked.

“Two minutes if we run.”

And they scampered away at once with Namjoon on the lead, who had Taehyung’s location displayed on the screen of his phone. They continued running all the way to the door of the lavish house, and Jungkook battered it with constant bangs. “Open the fucking door!”

Kang Soo retreated as spikes of muted fear danced mockingly around his form. “Fuck, Jungkook is here.”

“Go, run away from the back door!” Mi Sung whisper-yelled as he threw a frantic hand towards the kitchen.

“Back door!” Taehyung accumulated every ounce of strength he had left and screamed. “He’s leav—”

“Shut up.” Mi Sung smacked his palm against his mouth to silence him.

“Fuck, fuck,” Ji Hoo murmured in an anxious daze, pacing, clueless about what to do.

The three stared at each other for barely a second before they sprinted around the enormous house. They took a glimpse of the wide-open door and caught his figure dashing away towards the beach. “Yoon, Taehyung!” Jungkook panted out without stopping.

Yoongi skidded to a halt and darted in the opposite direction, as Jungkook and Namjoon pursued him with all their might.

With a sudden boost of power, Jungkook closed in on him. He detected Kang Soo jumping from the pavement onto the sand and pounced right behind him. He was working out like his life depended on it for this exact moment. Because his life truly depended on it, and he wouldn’t allow anyone to outrun him in no event.

Kang Soo’s foot sank into the sand, hindering him, and that was all Jungkook needed to seize his shirt. He wrenched him back, and they ceased their dash abruptly, but Kang Soo twirled and flung his arm upwards to tear his hold off him. They stood still in a poised stance of fighting, breathless, and shooting daggers at each other.

“Why are you doing this to my family?” Jungkook gritted out.

Kang Soo threw a glance behind him and found Namjoon standing a little further away, ready to chase him if he attempted to escape again. “I didn’t do it, Jungkook. I hate your family. But I didn’t do this.”

“You’re lying!” he vociferated, each one of his muscles stretched taut. “You wouldn’t have disappeared if you were innocent.”

“I disappeared because I knew you would come after me. I’m not stupid. Did you expect me to just wait for you to kill me?”

“Bullshit,” Jungkook scoffed. “You set me up.”

“I didn’t.”

A tsunami of wrath welled up in Jungkook’s chest that frenzied every shred of patience. He launched himself at him, but Kang Soo expected it and gripped his shirt to swirl him around and then thrust him away.

And he ran for his life.

Jungkook spurted forward without a second thought. Namjoon’s cry, though, immobilized him just seconds later.

“Let him leave!”

His scurry stalled, and he rotated as his shoulders slumped, realizing the futility of chasing him again. “He won’t tell us anything. Right?”

Namjoon shuffled closer and set a nerve-soothing hand on his shoulder. “Yes. And... I start to doubt that he actually did this.”

“Then who... who the fuck did this?”

“I don’t know. Let’s go back to Taehyung for now.”

With his remembrance, a newfound dread overcame him, and he bolted back to the house with Namjoon trailing him. They barged inside and resumed scuttling until they reached the living room. Taehyung was sitting on the couch holding an ice pack to his left cheek with Yoongi beside him, and Ji Hoo and another presence were seated across from them.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked as he shed his mask. Although he wanted to let his eyes rest on Taehyung’s face he had missed so much, Ji Hoo’s presence there grabbed his complete attention.

“That piece of shit beat him up, that’s what happened,” Yoongi spat, voice swimming in viciousness, as he glared at Mi Sung.

But all Jungkook could see was Ji Hoo, and he lunged at him. He ringed his neck in a choking hold and hauled him off his seat. “You didn’t know where your father was, huh?” he asked in a chilling undertone wrapped around a smoldering growl. “Did your father touch him?”

Ji Hoo released small whines as he repeatedly slapped the constrictive hand around his neck. The next thing he felt was an unmerciful punch on his cheek, and the compression firmed up a beat later again.

“Did he touch him?” Jungkook repeated, fingernails digging into his skin by the force he used.

Taehyung regarded the terrifying scene with big, tearful eyes. The ice pack slipped through his grasp as he rose to his feet inch by inch. “Yah, Ju—Jungkook... Stop,” he stammered as he noted the reddish hue that cloaked Ji Hoo’s face and the strenuous gasps he strove to take.

Jungkook’s brute eyes flung to the edge of their sockets in a sidelong glance. He inflicted a few more consecutive punches on Ji Hoo’s face and released him on the last one, sending him reeling across the room. He collapsed with his head slamming against the floor, and the trickle of blood dripping down his nose soon formed a small pool beneath his face.

Jungkook spun around and focused his gaze on Mi Sung, still not ready to acknowledge Taehyung’s presence. “You’re his father?”

A sudden need to swallow swept over Mi Sung. He had heard so much about the Jeon Jungkook; how he dealt with anyone who grated on him, how he intimidated them, how a simple punch from him could send anyone to the hospital if he used his whole strength. And now Jeon Jungkook was right in front of him, and he was fucking livid. Mi Sung never thought he would meet someone who would intimidate him as much as Jungkook, even if he was twenty-five years younger than him.

“Yes, I’m his father,” Mi Sung stated and praised himself mentally for not stuttering. “What’s your relationship with my son?”

Jungkook jolted a second later as his incensed nerves, which were tied in little complex knots, dominated him again. But a hasty, jittery pull on his shirt held him back.

“Jungkook, stop. You... You’re scaring me.”

The fragile, quivery voice of his felt like a knife ripping his chest apart. He craved to bury him in his hug and tell him sorry, tell him he got him now, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn around. His lie affected him more than he could handle. And if he just glimpsed at his bruised face, he would break down wholeheartedly. He couldn’t let himself weaken yet.

He instead forced his muscles to mellow and straightened his posture. “What’s your business with Han Kang Soo?”

“Why do I have to explain myself to you?” Mi Sung retorted. A set of muffled groans seeped into his ears, and he shot his eyes at Ji Hoo. He made a step in his direction to help him to his feet, but a deterrent hand from Jungkook glued him to his spot.

“Listen, Kim Mi Sung. The only reason I haven’t crushed your face is because of your son. If you don’t talk, though, I won’t give a shit about anything and fucking beat you until you die.”

Taehyung edged closer to his bulky frame and tugged on his sleeve. “Jungkook...”

The said man slammed his eyes closed, mouth pressing together. “Yoongi, take him away.”

“What? No!” Taehyung exclaimed anxiously.

“Come on, Taehyung.” Yoongi reached out to grab his forearm, but Taehyung shrank away. “Don’t make me use force on you.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Then shut the fuck up!” Jungkook barked at him so loudly his throat ached. He willed a smidgen of placidity into the turbulence raging inside him and swallowed. “Kim Mi Sung. Talk.”

“I buy drugs from him, okay? And we’re friends for years. He told me he needed a place to hide and I let him stay here. Kang Soo didn’t do this to you.”

Jungkook nodded to the expected explanation. “There. It wasn’t so hard, was it?”

A muscle in Mi Sung’s jaw ticked in displeasure at his obvious scorn. “That’s all I know. And now I want to rest, so leave my house.”

Jungkook huffed. “You beat your own son. Aren’t you ashamed?”

“He lied to me! He played me.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to touch him!” Jungkook was surging towards him before he even knew it. The same hasty, trembling hands yanked on his shirt right away, and that familiar deep voice rang again with flaring restlessness.

“Don’t, Jungkook. Please.”

“Why the fuck are you protecting him?” Jungkook swiveled with a jolt as exasperation poured through his insides. Everything melted away instantly at the sight of his swollen, purplish cheek and the dried stains of blood. Truly, every emotion was swept away except one. Devastation. Stifling devastation that was highlighted by explosions of self-blame for failing to protect him and get to him sooner.

And everything suddenly felt too much for his ravaged heart to bear. He marched off to the door and shut it behind him without glancing back.

A numbing anxiety crowded Taehyung that stung his eyes with tears the moment Jungkook disappeared. He pitched forward with his need to be close to him on the lead of his chaotic mind, but a hold on his forearm stilled him.

“Give him a moment to cool down,” Namjoon said.

“No, I can’t—I can’t stay away from him for another second.”

“What the fuck do you mean, Taehyung?” Mi Sung asked, a growing apprehension braising in his gut. “Don’t tell me you and Jungkook... No, no, tell me it’s not true.”

Taehyung swiped a harsh hand over his cheeks to scrub away the wetness that bubbled over. He rotated at a glacial pace and laid his sorrowful gaze on him. “It is. I’m in love with him.”

That apprehension enlarged his eyes and caused them to flit in a whirlwind of disbelief. “Did you not see how crazy he can get? He’s dangerous! Stay the fuck away from him.”

“It’s funny coming from you,” Yoongi sneered. “You beat your own son and you talk to him about who’s dangerous?”

As Mi Sung didn’t seem to have a comeback, Taehyung wiped the next gush of tears with his shirt. “Jungkook acted like that because you hit me. He would never hurt me.” He turned to the exit and slouched off.

“Taehyung, stay away from him. I warn you.”

“Or what?” Yoongi scoffed. “What will you do, huh?”

“Nothing. But he’ll regret it if he gets close to Jeon Jungkook.”

Taehyung held onto the door handle. “It’s too late for that.” He slid the door open and vanished in search of Jungkook.

Yoongi glanced beside him at Ji Hoo, who managed to hoist himself onto the couch at some point and kept whimpering in pain. His nose and mouth were covered with blood, and the left side of his face was bloated with his eye barely able to open. “You knew where your father was all along, didn’t you?”

Ji Hoo took a moment to answer as his head still buzzed with dizziness. “Yes. I visited him once a month, like Mi Sung-ssi.”

Yoongi shook his head, contempt spilling from his eyes. “You’ll pay for this. Joon, let’s go.” He stormed towards the door with Namjoon hurrying behind him, and they exited the house. They located Taehyung and Jungkook outside a little further away and headed to the beach to give them time to talk.

 
Once Taehyung caught sight of a figure outside of the house, he scurried all the way there and decreased his speed when he was close enough. Jungkook was standing in front of a lavender tree and his form shook rhythmically, he detected. Worry quickly bristled his eyes as he realized Jungkook was throwing punches on the tree trunk, and he fixed a quaky palm to his shoulder.

Jungkook lurched, whisking his hold off him with his vehement rotation. His pain-filled eyes, burning like flaming wells, ground through him in a moment’s stillness. Despite the fury they embodied, a glitter of poignancy hovered in them that foreshadowed fast-flowing tears.

As the torturous wetness built up until it became impossible to confine, Jungkook twisted and drove his fist into the tree fiercer, searing blood dribbling down his fingers.

“Stop, please stop,” Taehyung begged in a wrecked mumble as his tears cartwheeled down his face.

His fist pounded against the tree once more and stayed there as his head crumbled over his sunken shoulders. His body quivered by his rowdy nerves in his exertion to tame them, but then it writhed with the sobs that scorched his chest.

Taehyung positioned his hands on each of his shoulders and nestled against his back, resting the side of his head on his nape. His pent-up agony of being unable to see him, touch him, feel him close for so long pushed wavelets of tears out of him that only flared and quickened with each choked breath Jungkook released.

His tentative hands ventured lower, trailing his arms, until they came to loop around his belly in a tight wrap. “I know,” he croaked out. “I’m sorry.”

Jungkook snaked a hand out to dry the hot wetness from his haggard face with his sleeve. His warmth was intense enough to infiltrate his body and caress his long-suffering heart, even allay the mayhem that ran riot inside him. But the cruel pang of his lie, acute and fatal like a knife thrust, lingered. “You lied.”

Taehyung’s grip around him strengthened in stabbing disquiet as a fresh deluge of tears disfigured his face. “I’m sorry.”

A frail harshness gripped at Jungkook’s features as his cheeks got soaked again. “You got in danger.”

Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut, teeth digging into his lower lip at the distinct bitterness in his raspy voice. “I’m sorry.”

“I begged you, Taehyung. And you didn’t listen.” Jungkook cradled his one hand clutching him as his eyes slunk down at the contact.

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung cried as his gasping puffs intensified with the disastrous anguish that ripped across his chest.

“I cried for you. Because I was scared.” Jungkook rubbed little circles on the back of his hand, tears still leaking but sparsely now. “And you didn’t care.”

Taehyung tucked his face away into his shoulder blades and wailed like when Jungkook left him in the shower that day. His foolish actions endangered him and hurt Jungkook, and even though he had him right there, holding him, the distance between seemed endless.

His sobs, tangled with muffled apologies, pounded on Jungkook’s ears in a loathsome tune that demolished his heart more than anything before. He crept around, missing his warmth right away when they detached, and he laced a hand around his nape to tug him against his chest.

After almost two weeks, he finally had Taehyung in his embrace again. He had lost any ray of hope that would happen someday. A torrent of relief messily blended with bliss broke out in every direction in his body, leaping in soothing bursts and cocooning his soul with a blanket of love.

Taehyung was there. Swathed in his arms. And nothing could ever compare with that feeling.

───⭒───༺🎭༻───⭒───

And they met again! Second update is coming soon💜