Chapter Text
“Do not embarrass me tonight, Jungkook. This is an important day.”
Jungkook grazes his eyes over the shiny tiled floor between his just as shiny shoes. They’re uncomfortable, too tight around his toes.
Everything is too tight. The shirt he wears, the buttons over his chest straining in their attempts to keep it closed. The suit that’s made from the finest wool from Italy or some shit Jungkook doesn’t care about.
The tie around his throat as his father knots it and presses it to the base of Jungkook’s neck. He keeps a firm grip on the tie, eyes expectant on Jungkook. It isn’t a threat so much as a demand of attention, but Jungkook hates his hands on him either way.
“Alright,” Jungkook replies. He offers his father a lopsided grin as he cups his shoulder. “Though, you chose this outfit, Abeoji. I already look like an embarrassment.”
His father rolls his eyes as he pats his chest. “You look handsome. Respectable. Filled with class. As the son of a Deputy Prime Minister should look.”
Jungkook wrinkles his nose at the pride that radiates from his father. He knows it isn’t for him, but his father’s new title or whatever. Jungkook hates politics as much as he hates suits, which stems from the fact that his father loves them so much.
“If you try to switch the shoes out with those biker boots of yours, you’ll be put on punishment again,” his father says, pointing a warning finger to Jungkook before he fixes his own tie. “Now go do your hair. I have someone I want you to meet tonight.”
Jungkook immediately groans in his complaint, not hiding it. He isn’t as compliant as his older brother Jihyun, who pretends to care about wool suits and has already followed in their father’s footsteps down a path towards greatness or what the fuck ever.
Jihyun, who will be there with a dazzling smile on his lips beside his father tonight, joining in on the conversations that are bound to make Jungkook regret agreeing to attend.
His brother would have bowed his head, waited for dismissal, and then left to bother Jungkook. Jungkook, however, knows he’s a headache, and he’s happy to be one. “Who?”
His father doesn’t respond for a minute as he locks his jaw. The longer he goes on without speaking, the more Jungkook wants to groan.
Jungkook’s apathy usually works in his favor. His father usually doesn’t even consider having Jungkook attend functions like these, not wanting to risk being embarrassed as he states. When Jungkook does have to attend though, it’s usually to meet someone that he could gain something from. The president of the prestigious university his father wanted him to attend, head of companies his father wanted him to work at.
But Jungkook’s graduated and has a fine job of his own. It could only be -
“Remember we spoke about you getting married? Well, your mother and I found someone that would be a perfect match for you.”
The laugh that rips from Jungkook’s chest is loud. He crosses his arms over his chest, uncaring if he rips the straining material around them. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Watch your mouth,” his father snaps, eyes narrowing. “It’ll be good for our families and for you. He’s a lawyer. I know of your interest in crime.”
It’s mocking. Jungkook grits his teeth, wanting to spit but their maid had spent the better half of the morning waxing the floor. “I doubt him and I have the same kind of interest in crime, Abeoji.”
His father sighs long and heavy, watching as Jungkook undoes his tie. “Jungkook. This will be good for you. My name won’t always be able to get you out of trouble. An alliance with -“
“No way in hell,” Jungkook says firmly. He undoes his cuffs next to roll them his sleeves into his elbows. He knows his father hates the sight of the ink on the inside of his arms, and it gives Jungkook satisfaction when his father’s frown worsens as he notices Jungkook’s newest tattoo. “I’m not going to the party either. See, Abeoji, I thought you were a politician not a matchmaker.”
He attempts to turn away, but his father’s fingers bite into his elbow. His father is a strong man, effectively stopping Jungkook from moving.
“You will be going. Fix yourself. This is an event to celebrate my new position. My sons need to be there.”
Jungkook’s leg shakes until he presses his toes into his shoe to will it to stop. Annoyance fills him quickly, making his fingers flex. He may be careless with his mouth when it comes to his father, but he’d never use his hands. Even if he wants to take his father’s hand and rip it off of him.
“And you will meet the man your mother picked out, by the way. She’s quite fond of him.”
Jungkook presses his tongue into the roof of his mouth, his frustration growing. Growing and growing until it feels like he might just pop when his father continues with, “You owe her that much for all the shit you’ve put her through this year. Your allowance is on the line.”
Whipping around, Jungkook steps into his father’s space. His father is a few inches taller than him, and Jungkook hates when he tilts his head back to look down at him. A challenge there.
“What’s his name?” Jungkook grits out. He’ll meet the bastard, but he’ll find a way to get his mother to get him out of this. Unlike his father, she has a soft spot for him. Accepts his desire to be as far away from politics as possible, shows him patience in Jungkook’s inability to figure out what he wants to do instead.
He hasn’t put her through any shit like his father claims. They’re just too worried about controlling every possible aspect of his life.
A pleased smile takes over his father’s face. He thinks he’s won, and whatever, Jungkook will let him think that. He won’t be smiling as much when Jungkook finds a way to embarrass him tonight.
“Kim Taehyung,” his father tells him as he pokes Jungkook in the chest. “Fix the tie.”
Begrudgingly Jungkook does, all while grumbling out Kim Taehyung’s name like a curse. He’s heard of him through friends, but he couldn’t place a face to the name if he tried.
As soon as his father leaves with a strict instruction to come down before their guests are due to arrive, Jungkook yanks his phone out to call the one person who is guaranteed to know everyone.
“Ayo, It’s Hob.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, mood instantly lightening at the sound of his best friend’s voice. “Hyung, what do you know of a Kim Taehyung?”
“Hyung is fine thank you for asking after not speaking to me in four days.”
Another eye roll, and Jungkook leans back against a piece of decorative furniture. If he sits, his father will definitely notice the wrinkle in his clothes. He eyes the closest chair, considering it.
“It’s been two,” Jungkook corrects. “That’s what you get for making me that odd mix of alcohol and keeping me dead for those two days.”
Hoseok snorts. Jungkook knows him well enough to know he looks smug, even if he can’t see him. “What happened to the old Jungkook? Pass out drunk and hop up bright and early for class.”
Jungkook grins. He digs the tip of his toe into the ground, his grin growing when a wrinkle sticks behind. “My earliest class was two p.m.”
“Yeah, yeah. Why you interested in Kim anyway?”
He isn’t interested really, Jungkook just wants to know what kind of headache is coming his way. “You know him?”
It’s ridiculous really. He knew this day was coming, his parents don’t suggest things and simply accept Jungkook’s refusal to comply with them. They never have. Jungkook just hadn’t expected them to bring it up again so soon.
“You remember Kim Seokjin from college? Taehyung was his roommate freshman year.”
Jungkook doesn’t quite remember. He wracks his mind as he paces around the room, wishing his father couldn’t so easily get beneath his skin.
His father is controlling, too focused on image and their wealth and status continuing on throughout the generations. Jungkook wants to say he doesn’t give a shit, but the threat to his allowance is always successful. The threat to his inheritance even more so, and Jungkook isn’t foolish enough to think that won’t come up if he refuses.
“Was that the kid that Jin always complained wouldn’t party with him and would hide all the charging cords when Jin came home drunk?”
Hoseok giggles. “The one. I’m pretty sure they’re past their grievances now that they work at the same firm.”
Jungkook presses his tongue into his cheek. He hasn’t kept up with Jin since they’ve graduated, only exchanging the occasional text message and liking each other’s statuses online. It would be odd to text him now, and Jungkook really doesn’t have the time.
He glances at the clock. A little over an hour to go. He’s gotten out of things with less time than that.
“Wanna meet at the usual spot in about two hours?” Jungkook asks, changing the subject before Hoseok can ask about his questions again. “Gonna sneak out of my father’s work party.”
As expected, Hoseok agrees without hesitation. “Sure thing, broheim. Yoongi‘s?”
Jungkook scoffs like that’s even a question. “Course.”
“This is my youngest, Jungkook. Graduated from SNU. Following in the footsteps of his mother.”
It’s routine. A speech his father has memorized at this point despite Jungkook’s constant absence from these. Jungkook doesn’t respond to it, only acknowledges the man who’s name he doesn’t pay attention to.
“He’ll be taking over her company one day. We are quite proud.” Like the politician he is, Jungkook’s father is good at bullshitting. “Is your son here?”
“Somewhere,” the man says. He rocks back on his feet, a hand slipping into his pants. He looks expensive Jungkook notes idly, eyes trailing over him before he lets them wander around the party hall.
It’s stuffy in here despite the wide open space. Jungkook blames it on the people present.
“Taehyung’s in the middle of working on quite a time consuming case. He’s constantly pulled away for work. I apologize.”
Jungkook hates that that catches his attention and brings it back to the man. He looks at him a little more now, his vaguely familiar face. He’s seen him in the news before, he thinks, isn’t sure.
“Hard work is nothing to apologize for,” Jungkook’s father laughs. “I’m excited for our sons to meet. I think they will hit it off well. Jungkook has a keen interest in the law, as I’ve told you.”
Jungkook grunts at that. He ignores the hand his father plants to his shoulder, fingers digging in like a warning.
He tunes out the conversation then, not wanting to hear his father brag about things that aren’t true. He doesn’t particularly care about the things Taehyung’s father says either, but his ears catch bits.
Taehyung sounds terribly boring.
“Excuse me, Minister Jeon, I am sorry to interrupt. There is a phone call for Jungkook-ssi that sounds quite urgent.”
Jungkook whips his head around at that, finding one of their butlers bowing his head apologetically to his father.
His father’s jaw tightens, those fingers digging in more. He won’t make a scene in front of people, but he vibrates irritation.
“Who is it?” his fathers asks, his voice calmer than his tense body suggests.
Nerves grow on his butler’s face as he bows his head again. “Manager Go. He says it’s in regards to Mr. Jungkook-ssi’s company.”
Jungkook hides his amusement, pressing his lips hard together and relaxing his face when his father glances at him.
His father lets out a quiet laugh, patting Jungkook affectionately at the back of his head. “Seems our sons being called off for work is something they have in common. Go, son. Tell Manager Go I said hello.”
Jungkook nods, let’s out the expected ‘nice to meet you ’s and takes off.
The tie is stretched from his collar the moment he steps into the hallway. He is a little too eager, feet skipping over the floor as the butler hands him his phone and turns away in privacy.
The fact he doesn’t leave completely makes Jungkook wonder if his father has instructed the staff to keep an eye on him. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“‘Manager Go, is everything alright?”
“Did your father make that constipated face of his?” Hoseok asks. “I love when he does that.”
Jungkook furrows his brows worriedly, glancing around the butler before he lowers his voice. “That serious, boss-nim? That could affect the entire Seoul branch. I’ll be right there.”
Alarm fills the butler’s eyes as he immediately takes a step towards Jungkook as if to stop him.
“Sir, you are not permitted to leave.”
Jungkook quickly hangs up and deposits the phone into his pocket before he can hear Hoseok’s reply. “Shall I go back in there and get my mother instead then? I’m sure my parents would love terrible news on such a celebratory night like this.”
The butler pales, looking conflicted. “What shall I tell your father, sir?”
“I have a situation I must handle. Keep it from Eomma. He’ll know.”
The butler bows. If there’s one person Jungkook’s father is soft for, it’s his mother. Complete mush when it comes to her. His protectiveness of her, despite how strong of a woman she is, is one thing Jungkook likes about him.
“Thank you,” Jungkook says, dismissive in tone before he turns towards the center staircase to jog up to the second floor.
It’s empty, quiet on this floor. Just the hum of the classical music his mother had chosen for the night. He walks quickly so he can leave before the butler brings the news to his father, who won’t hesitate to try and question him as to what the matter is.
When he was twelve, he realized he could sneak out through the windows of his mother’s library. It is a small stretch away from the railings of the balcony. All Jungkook had to do is grab the railing, dangle his body, and let go. It wasn’t a far drop, though at the time it had seemed it.
But at the time, Jungkook had been so desperate to escape that he hadn’t cared about potentially breaking his ankles.
He quickly undoes the buttons of his shirt as he weaves down the hallway. He keeps a spare outfit tucked away in the shelves his mother has set assigned for him because this isn’t the first time he’s snuck away during a horrific dinner party.
“No, you listen to me Song. Don’t fuck this up. This is a key witness. We need him, got it?”
Jungkook hesitates halfway through the library door, hands stilling over his navel and head poking in a little further to see who’s in the way of his escape. He doesn’t recognize the man, though he seems a bit young to be here. Maybe another politician’s son dragged here.
There is a glare in his eyes, brows furrowed. He talks quickly, firmly, a demand in his tone that makes Jungkook feel a bit bad for whoever is on the receiving end of it. The man’s so concentrated on the conversation that his eyes don’t dart to Jungkook when he moves in further.
Jungkook clears his throat, drawing the man’s attention to him. His eyes widen for a moment as he holds up a finger, and Jungkook could scoff. This is his house.
“Call me back. I don’t care how late.”
The man pulls the phone away from his ear. “Can I help you?”
Jungkook licks over his teeth, crossing his arms. The man is quite pretty, even with the frown forming on his face. He looks a bit messy compared to the rest of the polished respectable people downstairs, hair curly and overgrown. Tie missing and his dress shirt unbuttoned down to his chest. His suit jacket is in his hands rather around his shoulders like it should be.
He has heavy eyes. Drooping at the corners, yet intense in the way he stares expectantly at Jungkook. His features are sharp, contrasting with how soft his mouth looks. Lips plumper from how he pouts them in his frown, dark and red like he’s been sipping at Mrs. Jeon’s wine.
“Excuse me?” Jungkook says, head cocking to the side. “You’re in my house. You shouldn’t be in here.”
The man crosses his arms over his chest, head tilting back to observe him in a way that reminds Jungkook too much of his father. “I apologize. I had to take a private phone call. This door was the first I found open. Is this your library?”
The man looks around as he uncrosses his arms and tucks his hands into his pockets. There’s a look of ease on his face now, shoulders and overall posture relaxing. He cocks his head in question, and for some reason, it annoys Jungkook.
He’s just annoyed tonight in general and this guy is getting in the way of his escape.
“Mother’s.”
“Jihyun or Jungkook?” the man asks without a beat. His eyebrow quirks, Jungkook can just barely see it through the strands of hair that curl over the man’s forehead.
“Who are you?” Jungkook asks. “Which one of those pricks downstairs is your father?”
The man giggles. It’s a nice sound, a deep hum. His lips stretch back, making his cheeks round like apples. It makes him look even younger than a second ago. “How sexist of you to assume that it’s my father that’s brought me here and not my mother.”
Jungkook hates the way his lips quirk up at that. “Well?”
The man’s chest broads when he breathes in, eyes glossing over with amusement. He looks familiar as he wipes his bangs back, but Jungkook can’t figure out how. “Kim Daehee. Though, I’d say he isn’t a prick. And my mother is quite influential as well. She just hates politicians.”
Kim Daehee. Jungkook’s mind works to remember how he knows that name. A friend of his father’s, a name he’s seen in the news before.
Realization hits Jungkook, and he raises his eyebrows in surprise. “I’d say most people in this country think he’s a prick.”
Another laugh from the man as he glances down at his toes. He’s wearing shiny shoes too, though they have quite a heel on them. “There’s a saying my father enjoys. ‘People hate those who make them feel their own inferiority.’”
Jungkook snorts. “Your father defended a man that most definitely killed his wife.”
“It was the jury that decided the verdict. My father only presented the evidence that led to it. If you followed the case closely, you’d be less positive about whether he actually killed his wife or not.”
Jungkook doesn’t truly care one way or another. He had actually gotten tired of how often it was in the news, how often people talked about it. Kim Daehee’s known for his high profile cases, and he’s never lost one. “Are you on your way back to the party, son of Kim Daehee?”
The man laughs again. Jungkook really likes the sound. “And what is it that you’re doing? Escaped a party to go to the library?”
Jungkook shakes his head as he moves through the room. “This kind of party isn’t my thing. Too stuffy. Don’t care much for politics.”
“Me neither, but my father forced me to come,” the man says lightly, eyes trailing after him. “What’s your kind of party?”
Jungkook’s clothes are still where they should be. He turns his back to the man, quickly removing his dress shirt for one more casual. “Ragers. Loud music, moving bodies. Alcohol that doesn’t taste like asscrack but people drink anyway because it’s expensive.”
When he turns to look over his shoulder, the man’s eyes are on his back. He doesn’t look away even when caught, offering Jungkook a small smile when he covers his bare back.
“Can I go?” the man asks, rocking back on his heels, surprising him. Maybe he hates these things as much as Jungkook does.
Jungkook hesitates, peering at him. “Won’t tell my father, will you?”
“Never told me which Jeon you were,” the man points out. He sucks at his bottom lip, and it bounces when he lets it go.
“Guess,” Jungkook says as he walks past him to the window. It’s not cool tonight, the air warm against his skin. He reaches out, hearing the man’s protest before he grabs the railing and jumps out.
He’s surprised to see the hand reaching out the window and hear the thump next to him a second later. The man lands steadily on his feet, palms wiping down his chest as if he’s expecting the dust to have fly up from his feet to shirt.
“Jungkook,” the man says, lifting his eyes to him. “Am I right?”
Jungkook hates when people know him, and it’s a given with the way tabloids work. He’s been in them too often, much to his father’s dismay. But it’s his father’s fault for putting his family in the spotlight, Jungkook constantly argues.
“What’s your name?” Jungkook asks instead of answering. “I’m not as into knowing wealthy people’s sons as you seem to be.”
This time, the man’s laughter is even louder than before. His nose scrunches up towards the bridge, his eyes turning into crescents as he slaps Jungkook in the chest.
Actually slaps him in the chest. Jungkook’s stunned by the fingers he can feel through the thin material of his shirt.
“Taehyung,” the man says. He licks his lips again, bringing Jungkook’s attention to them. “Kim Taehyung.”
That stunned feeling only continues as Taehyung steps forward like he knows where Jungkook’s car is parked. The name rolls around Jungkook’s mind in waves, just like it has been all night because he’s been dreading meeting the man attached to it.
He should have known with the lawyer talk. The age. Jungkook hadn’t seen anyone else around his age group at the party, and he had been looking instead of listening to the other ministers speak their congratulations to his father.
“Have you ever been to the Aqua?” Taehyung goes on, not looking back at him, and Jungkook’s feet move on their own accord to keep up with him. “Funny little place a few blocks away. Can take the train -”
“I have a car. I already have a place I’m going.”
Taehyung looks at him. He is really pretty. Jungkook understands why his mother is fond of him. She’s always gone on about how Jungkook should marry a pretty woman, quickly switching it to pretty man when Jungkook said he’ll never marry a woman. It’s the one thing he’ll refuse to do even if his inheritance is on the line.
“Of course you do,” Taehyung says. “Look at this house, your clothes. You’re quite wealthy, aren’t you?”
Jungkook snorts. He touches Taehyung’s elbow to guide him in the right direction. His mother has a good eye for picking out pretty people. He wonders how often they’ve spoken, if there was another reason she picked him for Jungkook.
He wonders if he should mention it. If Taehyung knows and that’s how he knew the names of Jeon Jongho’s sons. If he’s against it or for it. If Jungkook should tell him now there’s no way in hell they’re getting married.
“Says you. Kim Daehee is the richest man in Seoul,” Jungkook quips, pulling his touch away. “Your mother takes the title of second place.”
Taehyung nods, pressing his lips together in a smile. He doesn’t look smug, just agreeing. “I don’t have a car though.”
Jungkook laughs, relaxing some. “Let’s go for a ride, Kim Taehyung-ssi. Pull up the GPS.”
Taehyung knocks their elbows together as if he’s already comfortable with the lack of space between them. Jungkook isn’t. He isn’t one for physical touch, and he carefully turns his body so Taehyung can’t do it.
“Can I drive?” Taehyung says, wiggling his fingers at him. “Since you interrupted such an important phone call to skip out on your father’s celebration dinner.”
Jungkook scoffs, but he’s pulling the keys from his pocket to hand them over. “Fuck you. You were in my house.”
Taehyung just wiggles his eyebrows. Jungkook doesn’t know what that means, but he doesn’t ask as he follows after Taehyung.
***
The office is a bit of a mess. Papers strewn everywhere, books opened on any surface available. Post it notes litter the floor, and Taehyung makes a mental note to pick them up before he leaves so housekeeping doesn’t have to.
Taehyung has a bit of a headache. One he can easily manage, but it’s still a nuisance. He rubs at his temple as he kicks back in his office chair, highlighter in hand.
He is tugging the cap off with his teeth when the door opens. He only offers his father the briefest of glances before he settles his eyes back on the papers.
This case is a bit of a tricky one. He knows his father assigned him to it to test his ability, and Taehyung accepts the pressure as motivation.
“Taehyung-ah,” his father calls. “I need a moment.”
Taehyung sighs, giving his father his attention. It’s a tired sound because Taehyung is tired, but he knows he shouldn’t show his father. He doesn’t want to give him anything that may make him think he’s incapable when he’s not.
“I wanted to speak to you about our conversation the other day,” his father goes on as he settles in the chair across from him. He frowns at the mess on the desk between them. “About Jeon Jungkook.”
“I already told you what I feel about it,” Taehyung says lightly. “A union is good for the company. I’ve looked into him like you requested. He has a good lawyer, but he could use a better one.”
Taehyung’s father laughs. “Separate your mind from work for one moment.”
“That’s not a Kim Daehee thing to say. Who are you?”
Another laugh and then a sigh as his father claps his hands to his knees. “Free your busy schedule for me this Friday. I would like this union to happen as soon as possible. You’ll be meeting Jungkook, and I would like you to use that persuasive charm of yours. His father says he’s a bit resistant to marriage.”
Who wouldn’t be in this case, Taehyung thinks. Given what he’s read on the man and heard, he’s a bit rebellious. Even if he was okay with the situation on a personal level, Taehyung suspects he’d disagree with anything his father wants.
That’s what Jin said anyway. Taehyung is interested in hearing it from the man himself, though.
“I won’t force the man, Appa.”
His father smiles. “I’m not asking you to manipulate him into agreeing, son. Just appeal to him. No work talk.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes, a smile on his lips so his father knows he isn’t being insubordinate and just playful. “Work is ninety percent of my personality.”
His father stands then. “I know, and I am proud of you. But this kind of union requires intimacy, family, shared interests.”
“I know what marriage is, Appa.”
“Go back to work. You’re snippy today.”
It’s also playful when his father sends him a wink before he disappears through the door.
Taehyung groans when it closes, rubbing his hands down his face. He stays like that for a moment before he pulls himself together and gets back to work. Tries to at least, but he finds himself pushing the papers aside to take out the folder his father had given him when they first spoke about marriage.
It’s presented like a case file because Taehyung is quite like his father, mind always in work mode. There’s a picture of Jungkook in the top left corner. He’s extremely handsome. All sharp features yet something about him that is soft. Taehyung can’t quite put his finger on it.
The information alongside the photo is the normal basics. Family info, work and school achievements. His lawyer really isn’t the best because Taehyung’s still been able to access arrest records. Petty, small incidents that never went through with an actual charge, but if it’s easy to find it could be damaging one day.
There’s things one can’t easily find in databases that Taehyung has scribbled down. He thanks social media and Jin for that, who had partied with Jungkook a few times back in their college days. A few times Jin claims, but enough to know Jungkook’s hatred for his father and favorite video games. Taehyung doesn’t mean to pry into too much detail, wants to learn it from Jungkook himself, but enough for conversation starters.
Taehyung touches the photo, sighing once more. He tries not to make assumptions about people he doesn’t know personally, but he’s worried Jungkook won’t be nice.
“Fix your hair.”
Taehyung wags his fingers through his bangs, making his curls even more disarray. “This is as fixed as it gets.”
His mother doesn’t say anything in response. She drags her sharp nails through the hair at his nape, tugging gently. “It could use a cut. Should have gone to the barber before tonight.”
“I like it,” Taehyung says as he adjusts the jacket of his suit and bows to the man opening the door for them. “I look like a catch.”
His mother snorts. “You are beautiful, my boy. Win that Jeon’s heart over.”
Taehyung struggles not to roll his eyes. He hates the way his parents talk about it. It’s marriage, not something he should force or persuade Jungkook into agreeing to based on falsehoods. Even when his father talks about using his charm it’s like he wants Taehyung to do as they do in the courtroom, present facts that only work in their favor and not in opposition.
He only nods though, pretends to be in agreement. He just wants to get to know the other man. It will be good for business, and sooner is better, but he isn’t going to meet Jungkook and get married the next day.
It’s only a few moments into entering the party room that Taehyung spots him, eyes so effortless finding him. He’s even more attractive in person, the silky curls in the photo of him now gone and his hair styled in a more professional parted way. His shirt stretches tight over him, making him look strong and broad. The way his arm bends to guide a drink up to his lips only confirms this, his suit straining around his bicep.
Physical attraction is good. A positive. Taehyung hopes he likes his personality. He’s going through with the marriage either way, but it would work better for him if his partner was someone who was at least semi enjoyable to be around.
It had worked well for his parents, who had only met once before their union. His father always talks about how in love he felt the moment his eyes landed on her, while his mother said it took some time to actually get comfortable enough around him to start falling in love.
And Taehyung has no prospect that it will be the same for them. He’s too busy to truly work on a relationship, doesn’t have much interest in falling in love with anyone.
“We should meet the Minister,” his father suggests in his ear at the same time as Taehyung’s phone vibrates in his pocket. His father’s frown immediately appears and worsens when Taehyung pulls it out to see who it is.
“Taehyung,” his father starts, his tone warning but Taehyung is apologizing quickly as he excuses himself.
None of this is as important as work. Especially since there are lives that are going to forever altered no matter how it turns out in court.
Taehyung’s first impression of Jungkook is that he’s a bit of an asshole. At least in the way he carries himself, the air of apathy around him, and his constantly accusing eyes.
He doesn’t seem to know who Taehyung is, but Taehyung can’t tell if he’s just pretending. His face really is a blank mask, but it’s in the eyes. There’s ways to read even the most unreadable of people. It’s in their body movements, ticks. Taehyung just has to learn Jungkook’s.
Leaving will piss his father off, but the purpose of Taehyung coming tonight was for his union with Jungkook. There’s no point staying in here if Jungkook leaves, so he grabs the railing and jumps out.
The surprise in Jungkook’s eyes is worth it.
“Kim Taehyung,” Jungkook says as they make their way to his car, elbows brushing. He says the name with a thoughtfulness in his voice, like he’s trying out the taste of it. “Not a smart thing to do, getting in a car with a man you don’t know.”
Taehyung snorts, shoving his hands into his pockets. At ease. He really isn’t. He turned his phone off to focus on Jungkook, but he’s already considering turning it back on. “I am a master of martial arts. Makes me less afraid.”
Jungkook makes an amused sound, eyes openly taking him in. He turns his body towards Jungkook so he can get a better look, hands turning into fists to tighten his biceps.
It makes Jungkook grin. A flicker of light hitting the eyes that have looked mostly annoyed since Taehyung had met him.
“I have a hard time believing you and your noodle arms.”
Taehyung scoffs, though he is unbothered. He doesn’t have noodle arms, but he definitely couldn’t take Jungkook in a fight. “You’re kind of rude, you know?”
“I’m teasing,” Jungkook says quickly, eyes wide. “Calling you out on your lie.”
“I know,” Taehyung replies. His thoughts turn back to marriage and communication, and he’s never been one to think about marriage, care about it in anyway. But he has to think of it now, even if it’s just for business purposes. “Where are we going?”
Jungkook grins, his pace picking up. “My hangout place.”
It’s all Jungkook offers, even when Taehyung gives him a questioning look.
“Why did you want to come?” Jungkook asks instead. It seems hesitant, he must know. The way he only side eyes Taehyung as he waits for a response, tongue prodding into his cheek.
“I was interested,” Taehyung replies just as ominously as Jungkook.
Jungkook’s teeth dig into his plush bottom lip as he digs out a set of keys from his pocket. There’s a handful of cars, and Taehyung searches for the one that comes to life.
“Well, I hope it’s worth pissing Daddy Dearest off.”
The car is expensive looking. Taehyung doesn’t know much about cars, but he can tell. The interior seems so too, all leather and shining. It’s extremely clean, even the mats beneath Taehyung’s feet. He’s a bit disappointed Jungkook jumped into the driver’s seat before Taehyung could even near the car.
“He’ll be fine,” Taehyung comments, and Jungkook only glances at him before he takes off.
The secret hangout place is another expensive looking home. Jungkook doesn’t knock, strides right in and leads Taehyung up a set of stairs.
The higher they get, Taehyung becomes aware of muffled music. It isn’t booming loud like a rager would suggest, and it’s definitely not as crowded as a club could be.
It’s an outdoor balcony with maybe ten or twenty people sitting about. Taehyung shifts his eyes over the minibar and tables, the lounge chairs. It’s quite high up, the view of the city looming over the balcony railings.
“Ayo Jeon! Who’s the friend?”
It’s quick how a smile takes over Jungkook’s face, so big and bright. He slips his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunching as he walks to the voice that’s called him.
It’s a man with blazing green hair, a vibrant shade that almost hurts to look at. It clashes with the neon yellow button up the man wears and the oversized khakis beneath it. The man looks to him and recognition fills his eyes.
“Taehyung?” the man says, looking between them in surprise. “Shit man, it’s been a long time.”
Taehyung offers his hand when the man holds his own out. “I’m sorry, how do I know you?”
The man doesn’t look offended. “We had an ethics class together in college. I remember because you were constantly debating with that prick of a professor. I’m Jung Hoseok.”
Taehyung doesn’t remember the name, but he does remember the prick ethics professor. Hoseok has a strong grip as he shakes his hand, letting it go suddenly to look at Jungkook.
“Why’d you?” Hoseok starts, but Jungkook is grunting loudly to quiet him. It’s obvious that’s the reason.
Hoseok rolls his eyes and flops back onto a lounge chair. “Make yourself comfortable, T.”
“Is this your house?” Taehyung asks. Hoseok seems friendly, his smile big and bright. Body relaxed unlike Jungkook who still seems a bit rigid.
“Nah. Yoongi’s. He’ll be here soon. I live down the road. Your Kim Daehee’s kid, right?”
Taehyung shuffles on his feet. He’s proud of his father, to be his son, but he’s learned to expect people to say unkind things about him. “You’re Jung Seoyeon’s.”
Jungkook looks at him again, an eyebrow lifting. It was Taehyung’s guess. Everyone that lives in this block is a child of someone with status. There are only two Jung families in the neighborhood.
And Taehyung doubts Hoseok is the son of the infamous fashion designer Jung. He could be wrong, but it’s a rare thing for him to be.
“Whoa, how’d you know?” Hoseok gasps, that surprised look on his face again.
“He has a thing for rich kids,” Jungkook chides without looking away from Taehyung. It feels like his eyes are burning into the side of his face.
But Taehyung looks to him, holds the gaze. Jungkook walks off then, and Taehyung can’t help but follow. He goes through the motions of meeting people with Jungkook, all kids of rich people. Some he knows his father has represented, some he knows have the same kind of record as Jungkook hidden away.
“The city looks beautiful from here,” Taehyung says, trying to make conversation as Jungkook turns his attention away from some girl he just introduced him to.
He needs to talk to him more, get to know him better. Jungkook only looks to the view though and gives him a soft nod.
“All these people are your friends?” Taehyung tries again. He didn’t get where he is in life giving up easily. He had a lot of help of course, privileged in a lot of ways, but his attitude is what helps him win cases.
“No. Just Hoseokie and Yoongi,” Jungkook says, the corners of his lips turning down. He hasn’t introduced him to a Yoongi yet.
“They’re all in your hangout spot,” Taehyung notes, curious as to why Jungkook’s favorite spot to hide away in is filled with people he doesn’t consider friends.
“Want a drink?” Jungkook asks, changing the subject.
At this point, Taehyung needs one. He nods and lets Jungkook pick out a drink he doesn’t think tastes like asscrack. Taehyung’s surprised to find it’s very sweet.
“Can I ask you something?” Taehyung says as he tuts his tongue a few times to deal with the aftershock of the taste.
That hesitant look comes back. Taehyung’s gut is right, he knows it. He’s always been good at reading people.
“Over here,” Jungkook says, cupping his elbow again. His touch is hot, burning through the thick material of Taehyung’s dress shirt.
He guides him to the edge of the balcony, yards away from the clutter of people. Jungkook’s eyes search over them before he settles them on the view of the neighborhood and sips at his drink.
“What is it?”
Taehyung eyes over Jungkook’s. He is really pretty. Soft plump lips, sharp cheekbones, piercing eyes that are filled with an arrogance that is annoying in how it’s attractive.
Broad chest and strong looking hands. His sleeves rolled up so Taehyung can see the protruding veins and a variety of different tattoos twisting up his forearms. His shirt thin enough to see what looks to be another tattoo on his chest, and Taehyung wonders if Jungkook had rebelled against his father to get them.
Jungkook ticks his jaw, makes a noise like he’s sucking on his tongue before he looks back to Taehyung. Eyes calculating, unfriendly. Standoffish in a way that Taehyung just knows Jungkook knows.
“You do know who I am?” Taehyung asks. It’s warm tonight, making his clothes feel stuffy. “Don’t you?”
Jungkook spits over the railing. “No. Indulge me.”
Taehyung sips at his drink, hiding his smile behind it. Jungkook’s grunting is unnecessary. He definitely knows.
“Our fathers want us to marry. I went to the party tonight to meet you.”
In a flash, Jungkook goes rigid. He doesn’t look to Taehyung, doesn’t say a word. His finger digs into the glass so hard it goes white.
It seems to last ages before Jungkook dips his chin and says, “I know.”
“And what do you think about that?” Taehyung asks because that’s the most important thing he wants to gain from tonight. He curves his body towards Jungkook, his chest merely an inch away from his arm.
Jungkook swallows thickly, shrugs a shoulder and tosses back the rest of his drink. “Is that why you asked to come with me?”
Avoidance, Taehyung accepts it for now because it’s not necessarily avoiding the entire conversation. “Yes.”
“So that means you’re okay with it?” Jungkook asks, his tone an odd mix of surprise and sarcasm.
Taehyung hums his affirmation, making Jungkook finally look at him. His eyes are unreadable, even to him. They search over Taehyung’s face before Jungkook’s full body turns and they’re a breath apart.
“Why?”
“It’s a good union,” Taehyung explains simply. “Good for my family and yours. For you and I specifically.”
Jungkook grins at that, but it isn’t amused or happy. He looks away, back at the lights that fill the city. “And what makes you say it’s good for us?”
“My apartment’s big, empty,” Taehyung says, open and honest. He has been wanting to get a dog or something, but he isn’t home enough. “You wouldn’t have to rely on your parent’s money.”
Jungkook whips his head around at that. Taehyung knew it. Someone apparently so rebellious against their parents must have a reason still for doing as they say, as Taehyung’s assumed. Jungkook majoring in the right field to take over his mother’s company, still living with them, agreeing to a party just to sneak away.
Plus, his father may have already told him about the thousands of times Jeon Jongho’s complained about his youngest trying so hard to be free from his family.
“I’m not dumb enough to believe you wouldn’t have me sign a prenup,” Jungkook quips easily.
Taehyung shrugs. “You wouldn’t need any of that inheritance or your paycheck. Save it in case of divorce.”
Jungkook laughs, this time he sounds amused. His nose crunches up towards the bridge. “I’ll use my own money, thanks.”
“So you’ll agree?”
Jungkook freezes up, eyes slowly widening. “No. I’m not going to. Not - I haven’t even had time to think about anything other than the fact if I don’t do this, I’ll probably lose my inheritance.”
It comes out quick, through gritted teeth. Taehyung softens at the anger in Jungkook’s eyes.
“When did you find out?” Taehyung asks softly.
Jungkook huffs, fingers gripping tighter into the glass he holds. “Like two or three hours ago. You?”
Oh . “Shit, sorry. I’ve known for weeks.”
Jungkook’s jaw tenses, eyes blazing. “What?”
Taehyung sips his own drink to give himself time to respond. “I’ve known for weeks and thought about it. I think it’s a good idea, like I said. We don’t have to see each other much. Purely business. If you want like, a mistress -“
“I’m gay .”
Taehyung snorts at the pure offense dripping from Jungkook’s tone. “Okay, lover . Whatever. We can sort that all out. We’ll just be roommates who are legally married to each other.”
Jungkook rubs at his neck, a look of disbelief on his face. “What’s in it for you?”
Honesty, Taehyung thinks, blunt honesty is the best way to be with Jungkook. It’s just a guess, but Taehyung’s succeeded well with his guessing tonight.
“A title,” Taehyung admits, chest broadening. No one likes to feel used for something, though he personally doesn’t care if Jungkook only agrees for his family’s money. “I’m sure my father wants something from yours, but I don’t care about politics.”
Jungkook peers his eyes at him. “A title.”
Taehyung nods. “And for my father to get off my ass about it.”
Something over Taehyung’s shoulder catches Jungkook’s eye and he shakes his head, lips pressing together tightly. Taehyung’s sure it looks like they’re fighting to the others around them with how annoyed Jungkook looks.
“You don’t know me, Taehyung. I could have terrible manners and horrible hygiene.”
Taehyung wants to laugh at Jungkook’s serious ass face when he says that. “Your hygiene looks fine to me,” he says, tone full of implication as he glances down Jungkook’s body. He’s afraid his eyes have trailed too often to it, that Jungkook has noticed. “And even if it wasn’t, you can have an entire section of my apartment to yourself.”
Jungkook cocks his head from side to side. He brings his glass to his lips before he realizes he’s already emptied it. “I need to think about it.”
“Of course,” Taehyung murmurs firmly, even nodding as to emphasize the seriousness of it. “We’ll have to go over a lot of things before we sign. You have time.”
Silence follows, their eyes on each other before a voice pulls Jungkook’s away.
“Everything alright?”
It’s an unfamiliar man that Taehyung puts off as being Yoongi. His hair pale blue, face burnt from the sun. His eyes narrow into Taehyung but soften when they slide to Jungkook.
“Just peachy, hyung,” Jungkook huffs sarcastically. “This is Taehyung. Him and I were just discussing the fact we might get married.”
It’s a grand statement, one that sounds as ridiculous as the man’s face becomes after it. Jungkook doesn’t even elaborate, taking a step forward and away before he’s gone.
The man looks to Taehyung, the surprise in his expression comical.
Taehyung sighs. “Kim Taehyung. Said possible husband to be.”
The man takes his hand, his expression remaining perplexed. “Min Yoongi. Potential best friend in law, I guess.”
***
Jungkook stands still in the foyer, the muffled sound of screaming filling into the hallway.
He kind of feels a little bit of an asshole leaving Taehyung like that, but he’s overwhelmed.
Normally his father being angry at him doesn’t bother him. He knew it would piss his father off once he found out about Jungkook’s reason for leaving being a lie. Jungkook kind of wanted to piss the man off, but he had expected it to at least wait until tomorrow.
It’ll take a few minutes before his father is done, so Jungkook keeps the phone away from his ear but high enough that Jungkook will hear when he finishes. It’s the same thing as always, something Jungkook has memorized at this point.
I asked one thing of you Jungkook , he’s probably saying, though he’s asked much more than one thing. I knew you would do this, probably follows after, and Jungkook’s stopped trying to prove to his father that’s why he should stop asking him to do what he asks.
The sounds of footsteps drags Jungkook’s attention away from the wall he’s been staring at. He heavies at the sight of Yoongi with Taehyung behind him.
He can’t make sense of Taehyung. He’s a little annoyed tonight. The conversation should have waited.
The sound of his father’s yelling is distinct in the empty hallway. They’ve frequented this place so often it feels comfortable to Jungkook, but Taehyung has never been and yet still struts down the hallway like he has.
“Don’t,” Jungkook says as Taehyung steps in front of him and swiftly takes the phone from his hand.
There’s a furrow to Taehyung’s brow as it brings it up to his ear, lips pouted and it’s kind of cute. “Minister Jeon?”
The muffled sound stops immediately. Taehyung’s pout relieves into a smile as his dazzling bright eyes meet Jungkook’s.
With his other free hand, Taehyung wraps his fingers around Jungkook’s wrist. He squeezes gently as if meant to be reassuring and it only confuses Jungkook further.
“I’m so sorry for taking Jungkook-ssi away. I had an urgent thing to get to, and I caught him on his way out,” Taehyung says, tone so full of apology that Jungkook wonders if a bullshitter can spot a bullshitter. “He was very kind to offer me a ride to my office. I see you raised him well.”
Jungkook physically has to keep himself from snorting at that. He doesn’t like to be touched, but he doesn’t seem to mind the way Taehyung’s thumb presses into the inside of his wrist. How close he is.
He is attractive and Jungkook does have perfect vision.
“I’ll bring him home soon as possible. Oh? Well that is very kind of you. Yes, thank you. Have a good night, Abeonim .”
Jungkook narrows his eyes at that, teeth grinding together. Taehyung’s eyes search over his face, drop down to his mouth, and his smile grows.
“Yes of course,” Taehyung says, and Jungkook wants to take the phone away and figure out what Taehyung is agreeing to.
The smile slips away from Taehyung’s face as he presses the phone to Jungkook’s chest and lets his wrist go. “I should clarify, I am quite sure your father wants something out of this union too. Something I’m sure he’ll leave you alone in order to obtain.”
Jungkook pushes his lips into a pout as he takes his phone back. “What is it?”
Taehyung shrugs, weight shifting to one foot and they’re still so close. “Don’t know. But everyone wants something. Politicians are kind of crooked, don’t you think?”
This time, Jungkook doesn’t hide his grin. “I’ll consider it.”
Taehyung’s smile is wide, taking over his face. “Good. Your father says no rush in getting home, but I can’t avoid work all night. Is there a room I can use?”
Jungkook forgets Yoongi is there too until he clears his throat. He knows he’ll have to explain his mini outburst, it’s evident in the bewildered expression Yoongi wears.
He’s a little bewildered himself. He looks at Taehyung curiously, wheels reeling in his mind.
His father never accepts Jungkook’s absence. He technically still has a curfew that he always ignores. And on a night like this?
“Wanna tell me what the hell is going on?” Yoongi asks.
“In a sec,” Jungkook says as he guides Taehyung down to a room. “You can study in here. There’s a computer. It’s uh, mine. I crash here sometimes.”
Taehyung lingers by the door, a smirk on his face. “It isn’t smart to let a stranger use a computer of yours. Might search around and see what I can find.”
Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. Taehyung is kind of frustratingly annoying, but Jungkook won’t deny that his father seems to favor him in a way that could be beneficial to him.
“Search away,” Jungkook huffs. “I use it for gaming.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes as he slips into the room. “Not surprised. Thank you, Jungkook-ssi. Call for me when you’re ready to go.”
Jungkook doesn’t like that Taehyung seems to know so much about him. It aggravates him to his core, but he doesn’t say a thing about it, stepping away to confront Yoongi instead.
“You’re getting married?” Yoongi whispers as Jungkook stalks past him.
“Apparently,” Jungkook grunts, shaking a hand through his hair.
“He’s cute,” Yoongi replies, the smirk in his voice. “Kinda hot in the whole bend over the office desk for him kind of thing.”
Jungkook glances over his shoulder, warmth spreading across his cheeks. Maybe he is, but Jungkook won’t admit it. “Shut up, hyung. I need a drink.”
It’s later in the night, Jungkook’s not sure how much later, that Jungkook slips away from Yoongi and Hoseok to find Taehyung again. His friends didn’t let the topic of marriage go, both of them seemingly for it.
Jungkook was hoping they would agree with him that it’s a bad idea, but all three of them have parents that have been matched together by their grandparents. All three have worked out, but that means nothing to Jungkook.
The door to his room is open still when Jungkook reaches it. He clears his throat to announce himself, but it’s unnecessary when he peeks his head in and finds Taehyung asleep.
He’s sitting on the ground, head tilted back against the edge of the bed. His legs sprawled out, the computer between them. His phone is still gripped in his hand.
Jungkook allows himself a moment to look. Taehyung is soft like this, lips parted around quiet breaths. Thick brows relaxed and still unlike they’ve been all night.
He has the strangest urge to wipe Taehyung’s bangs from his face, but he rolls his eyes at himself.
“Taehyung-ssi,” Jungkook calls quietly, not wanting to startle him.
Taehyung blinks immediately, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. Jungkook wonders how often this happens, Taehyung falling asleep in strange places while working.
The memory of Taehyung adding his large apartment as one of their reasons he wants their union comes to the forefront of Jungkook’s mind. He doesn’t quite know what it means, but he has a few assumptions.
“Sorry,” Taehyung murmurs, voice deep and rough. His eyes stay closed for a moment before he blinks them open and lurches from the edge of the bed.
He groans loudly, arms stretching. Fists come up to rub at his eyes before he taps the mouse button on the computer to make the screen come back to life.
For a wild moment, Jungkook thinks Taehyung’s about to start working again. But he doesn’t, instead exiting out of the pages he has up and doing something in the settings that looks as if he’s deleting all of his history and cookies.
“Ready to go?” Jungkook asks, surprised by how soft his tone is.
Taehyung blinks up at him. His eyes are still heavy, seeming to droop more than before. “Yeah. I’m driving this time.”
Jungkook snorts, takes a step back and waits for Taehyung to wake up fully to stand.
“No way in hell.”
Taehyung smirks, his shoulder pushing into Jungkook’s as he walks past him. “And why not?”
He doesn’t have an answer for that except he doesn’t like it, doesn’t like anyone driving his car. Not even Yoongi and Hoseok.
“What were you working on?” he asks instead.
The look Taehyung sends him is incredulous as he grips the doorframe and waits for Jungkook to follow. “It’s confidential, I’m sure you know.”
“Give me a hint,” Jungkook tries to persuade, using a voice that normally works on Yoongi when he wants something.
Taehyung laughs as he walks off, shaking his head. For only being here once, he seems to remember the way to the entrance.
It’s something Jungkook’s noticed. Taehyung seems to know a lot, or at least he can figure out things often. He vaguely remembers Taehyung’s father bragging about his intelligent, quick witted son.
“Some rich kid trying to wipe away his public intoxication charges.”
Jungkook narrows his eyes at Taehyung’s back. “You’ve looked a little too into me.”
He comes up beside Taehyung, fingers sliding over his elbow for his attention. Taehyung doesn’t look at him like he knows Jungkook wants him to, but he hums.
“I had to gather the information I needed to win the case,” Taehyung says, practically teases. He tongues at the corner of his mouth, Jungkook’s eyes drop to it. “The case of getting Jeon Jungkook to agree to marrying me.”
Jungkook is taken back by the honesty of it, or just Taehyung’s words in general. The laugh he lets out sounds as surprised as he feels. “It’s that important to you?”
Without hesitation, Taehyung nods. He stops walking, turning to Jungkook. “You‘ll find I’m very persuasive. Save me the work, yeah? I‘ve already got a lot on my plate.”
Jungkook doesn’t feel bad, but he thinks about Taehyung falling asleep again while working for some annoying reason. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Taehyung’s face lights up. He touches Jungkook, Jungkook doesn’t see it coming, body tensing when Taehyung’s palms land on his chest.
“You know, ideally my father would prefer for us to skip everything and tie the knot as soon as possible. It was my idea for us to meet before we do,” Taehyung starts off, words slow and contemplative. “I want to make sure you mean it when you agree. So meet me for breakfast in the morning. I only have a short time before a meeting. You can pick me up in that fancy car of yours.”
Later, Jungkook will think too hard about why the words fall loosely from his lips. He’ll try to figure out why he’s had no control over them, why Taehyung’s big wide, tired eyes seem to pull them from him.
“I’ll do it.”
Taehyung raises both brows, making them disappear from view behind the curtain of his bangs. His fingers dip into Jungkook’s chest before he pulls them away and stuffs them into his pant pockets. “Breakfast or marriage?”
“Both,” Jungkook says, stepping away from Taehyung because he can’t take the proximity anymore and doesn’t want Taehyung to see whatever his expression morphs into. “We can always divorce if it doesn’t work out as well as you think it will.”
He doesn’t have a reason for why the words come out of him, not any that make sense to him at least. He hopes Taehyung doesn’t asks, and Jungkook’s thankful when he doesn’t.
Taehyung just snorts in response, and Jungkook has an urge to turn back and see the expression he’s making, but he doesn’t. “That’ll bring great shame to your family name.”
Jungkook licks at his lips and holds a hand out to gesture Taehyung to come with him. “As your research should show, Taehyung-ssi, I don’t care about bringing shame to my family name.”