Chapter Text
Jungkook wakes up to an intruder making food in his kitchen.
Now, Jungkook knows what he’s supposed to do if he senses an intruder in his house when he’s alone. Yoongi samchon’s quizzed him on it so many times that he could probably recollect the steps in his sleep.
Step 1: Send an SOS to his dad, Yoongi samchon and Hobi samchon.
Of course, in the event that he doesn’t have his phone, or if he’s in a position where step 1 is not feasible, like say, if the intruder is hovering over him with a knife to his neck, then he can always directly proceed to step 3.
Step 2: Leave the house. Hobi samchon’s taught him five ways to do it—five ways that don’t include walking out through the front door, and atleast three of them involve his bedroom window, and a lot of stealth.
(Jungkook’s good at it. He’s slipped out under Hoseok’s nose three times. Sure, he’d been caught as soon as he’d been out of the house but his uncle isn’t any common lowlife thug, so it’s okay. Out of the house is good enough when it comes to his uncle.)
Step 3: Try to take the intruder down as soon as possible, in case they’re in his room / right next to him, and flee. “In no event, Kim Jungkook,” he remembers his dad saying, “Will you try to fight whoever it is or knock them out. Get out as soon as possible.”
Of course, there’s variations to the steps. What to do if there’s a firearm involved. What to do if there’s more than one intruder. What to do if they’re taking him captive. What if it’s someone you thought was a friend, but has no reason to be in your bedroom at ass o clock in the night, and wants to take you for a midnight drive.
“Just go with them,” his dad says most of the time. “We’ll come find you.”
Jungkook had been indignant immediately, because surrender? Him? The Kim Namjoon’s son?
“I’ve been learning to fight since I was a kid—”
“And you’re still a kid,” Hobi samchon had cut him off, and well. Jungkook can go against his dad. Even Yoongi samchon. But when Hobi samchon talks to him in that tone, with that face—yeah, no he’s not going to push and end up seeing his uncle’s disappointed face.
And besides, it’s not like Jungkook doesn’t get where they’re coming from. He knows that he could fight, or struggle, but that also increases the chances of him getting hurt—knows that it has less to do with how skilled he is and more to do with his limitations as an omega.
‘We’re just built a little differently than alphas or betas,’ his dad had told him once. ‘I can’t take down Hobi in a fight—'
‘You have though, appa,’ Jungkook retorted, and his dad had smiled at that.
‘Only if I fight dirty. We’re equally skilled, but he’ll always have an edge over me.’
So yes, Jungkook could fight, and get hurt, and—
‘Appa wouldn’t be able to bear it, Jungkook-ah,’ his dad had said, and that had been it for Jungkook. I wouldn’t be able to bear it, his dad had said, and Jungkook had given in, because there’s a lot of things which he rebels against, but this… this he won’t.
So, he listens.
And he follows the steps, and their modifications, and everything that comes with it. Of course, it’s not a regular event. More like a once in a year event? Because, thugs, Hobi samchon had told him once, have a very short memory span, and so every year they decide to do this stupid thing of trying to take Namjoon-ah down by going for you, because they always underestimate him based on his subgender and well—he’d paused there, and smiled, this dark thing that Jungkook’s seen very few times on his usually cheerful uncle’s face, that makes him look more like Jack and less like Hope—Namjoon-ah usually makes an example out of them to show them why he’s still on top, and then they don’t try again… atleast for another year.
So, yeah, it happens, once a year. Or maybe twice if the universe decides Jungkook’s having too much fun being an ordinary university student, relatively free from the trappings of the mafia life.
And most of the time, there’s always someone else in the house when it happens. Most of the time, his Yoongi samchon is maybe a floor away, or three rooms away, and all Jungkook needs to do is stay safe until his uncle comes to get him.
On rare occasions, and when the thugs are especially stupid, his father’s at home, and so they never even manage to come close to his room because his father always somehow knows when he’s in danger, and he’s waiting for them. There’s even been instances where Jungkook’s slept through the whole night, and the only way he even knows something’s wrong in the morning is either because his father is fast asleep on the floor beside his bed, or his usually sweet scent of caramel tastes a little burnt at the back of his tongue when he hugs him in the morning.
So, the point is, Jungkook knows what he’s supposed to do. Ideally, he’s supposed to send a SOS, go back to his room, clamber out of his window and make his way to either Jimin or Taehyung’s house, all the while keeping his scent in control.
Ideally, Jungkook would do that, especially taking into account that the intruder is clearly an alpha, given his build and the slight whiff of coffee that meets Jungkook's nose. Someone who looks like he could take Jungkook down without breaking into a sweat—someone who’s dangerous, his wolf reminds him, because he’s been around too many dangerous men most of his life for his wolf to be extra attuned to things like this.
Ideally, Jungkook would do that, except… even as his wolf says dangerous, his wolf also sounds more than a little confused, and Jungkook sort of understands because why would an intruder break into his house only to empty the kitchen? Maybe he’s just very cocky and he’s waiting for Jungkook to get up and come to him? Maybe he was just hungry and he doesn’t even know whose house he’s broken into?
Maybe—
“I know I look very hot, but I’m obliged to tell you that I’m older than your father and that I’m definitely not interested in pups,” the man—alpha speaks up, still not turning away from the stove, and Jungkook freezes where he’s hidden in the staircase.
Because what?
“What?” He asks, a little flabbergasted, as he makes his way down, albeit a little cautiously, one hand in his pocket, curled around the dagger that had been a gift from Yoongi samchon for his fifteenth birthday.
“I mean,” the alpha says, finally turning around, a smile on his face, wearing the ridiculous pink apron Hobi samchon bought for his father three years ago that his father had never once touched, “You have been spying on me for ten minutes now, so I presume you’re just swooning over my looks?”
Jungkook scrunches his nose.
“You’ve lost your mind, ahjussi.”
“Ahjussi?” The alpha asks, a hand to his chest in over dramatic fashion. “I don’t look that old, you take that back—”
“You just said you’re older than my father,” Jungkook mutters, still maintaining a safe distance from the stranger—and really, he should leave now. The front door isn’t too far away, and he’s got his phone in his other pocket, and while the man in front of him doesn’t look like he’s going to hurt him, he also doesn’t sound entirely sane, so—
“You’ve got a point, but I don’t appreciate it, the same way I don’t appreciate how suspicious you look of your new bodyguard.”
Jungkook blinks.
“Bodyguard?”
“Yeah, Kim Seokjin at your service, young master,” he says, smiling at Jungkook, before a look of understanding passes over his face as he looks at Jungkook’s confusion. “Namjoon-ah forgot to tell you, didn’t he?”
“Namjoon-ah?” Jungkook asks, choosing to focus on that, because if he focusses on anything else he thinks he’s going to have a mental breakdown, not to mention that he still doesn’t trust this man, except what game is he even playing by pretending to be Jungkook’s bodyguard? Jungkook doesn’t get it. “You’re calling my dad my name. You say you’re employed by him, but you aren’t referring to him respectfully. Nobody calls him by his name other than my uncles.”
The alpha—Seokjin, his brain reminds him, hmms at that, switching off the stove before facing Jungkook fully. “I didn’t say I was employed by your father.”
“You said you’re my bodyguard.”
“I did say that, didn’t I,” Seokjin says. “It’s not exactly employment, though. Think of it more as doing a favour for a friend as he lets me stay in his place until I get back on my feet?” Seokjin smiles at him brightly. “I just sort of quit my previous job, and I needed to lay low while trying to figure out what to do next, ran into Namjoon-ah, and well…” He spreads his hands in the air almost as if saying here I am, and it’s all very convincing but Jungkook refuses to buy it,
Because he likes to think he knows his father well, and his father would never let some random stranger, and that too an alpha¸ at that, stay with them. With him, in particular. An alpha his father’s never mentioned before.
“I’m going to call appa now.”
“You don’t believe me,” Seokjin says. And then, a little wistfully, “He raised you well on his own.”
Jungkook bristles at that.
“He raised me well enough. We don’t need an alpha in our lives—”
“Woah,” Seokjin raises his hands a little in defence. “I wasn’t critiquing or anything, I swear. I didn’t mean anything by that.”
Jungkook still glares at him, fingers hovering over his father’s contact when a sudden thought strikes him, and he narrows his eyes at Seokjin.
“Are you the guy who got appa pregnant and ditched him and ran?”
The scent of bitter coffee fills Jungkook’s nose and it takes him a couple of seconds to realise it’s Seokjin losing control for a moment.
“I’m not that scum,” he says, something dark crossing his face, and—
Jungkook has so many questions, most of them having to do with who this man is—who this alpha is, who seems to know so much about his father. Who seems to know so much about them, but who Jungkook has never heard his appa speak about.
So many questions, and there’s only one person who can answer, so he dials his father’s number, still maintaining a safe distance from Seokjin.
Yoongi picks up his father’s phone on the third ring.
“Jungkook-ah,” his samchon asks, worry tinting his tone. “Are you okay, kiddo?”
“There’s a stranger in our house,” Jungkook says, and he hears a sharp intake, before Yoongi asks him, rapid fire.
“Where are you? Are you safe? Are you out of the house? What was the intruder doing?”
“He was—is cooking,” Jungkook says, a little lamely. And then, before Yoongi can pick up on the present tense used, Jungkook goes on, “He says he’s my new bodyguard?”
There’s silence for a second. Muted swearing. And then, a long weary sigh, as he asks, “Did he tell you his name?”
“Kim Seokjin,” Jungkook answers, and hears Yoongi swear some more. Hears him swear and realizes his samchon knows this man too. It leaves him with more questions than answers.
“Can’t believe this is what Namjoon-ah did when he gave me the slip for ten minutes,” Yoongi mutters, half into the phone, half to himself, before he says, “I should yell at you for not following protocol—”
“I am sorry,” Jungkook mumbles, “I don’t know why I didn’t either, I just…” He trails off, a little helplessly, and—it’s true, to be honest. He doesn’t know why he didn’t follow the steps. Doesn’t know why he was so intrigued, why he’s still standing here—
“You are your father’s son,” Yoongi huffs, a little wryly, and Jungkook wants to ask him why, except Yoongi doesn’t really give him a chance to talk as he goes on, “He’s fine. You’re in safe hands. Honestly, he’s probably the safest option, given the current situation.”
Current situation, Yoongi says, and Jungkook understands that something’s gone wrong. That there’s trouble, which makes sense, because his father’s rarely appointed him bodyguards, and never a live-in one, so if he’s gone this far… it’s probably bad. It has him worrying about his father for a moment, before Yoongi snaps him out of his thoughts with his, “Listen to what he says, and also tell him that if you get hurt in any way, I’ll—actually put me on speakerphone.”
Jungkook pauses at the venom in his uncle’s tone before pulling the phone from his ear and putting it on speakerphone obediently.
“Kim Seokjin,” Yoongi starts darkly, “You harm a hair on our kid’s head, and I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth, and this time even Namjoon won’t be able to stop me.”
Seokjin stares at the phone, a wry expression on his face (and also something slightly sad, Jungkook thinks, at the back of his head—there’s something sad in his eyes), as he says, holding three fingers up, “I won’t. I swear, Yoongi-yah.” And then, “If I do, you won’t even have to hunt me down, I’ll come find you myself.”
Yoongi says something at that, but it’s muted, and when he speaks again, it’s addressed to Jungkook. “He’ll keep you safe, kiddo. We’ll try to be back as soon as possible.” And then, a little softer, “I love you, Jungkook-ah.”
“Love you too, samchon,” Jungkook says, ending the call, before turning to look at Seokjin.
“Yoongi samchon doesn’t seem to like you very much.”
“Hobi doesn’t either,” Seokjin says, running a hand through his hair. “I gave Namjoon-ah my word though, and he… he trusts me, so. You’ll have to put up with me.”
“For the record,” Jungkook says, pulling his dagger out and running a finger along it’s edge. Seokjin smiles at him, something fond in his eyes and Jungkook wants to bare his teeth at him. “I don’t like you either, and I definitely don’t trust you.”
“You don’t need to trust me, young master,” Seokjin says, looking amused, “For me to protect you.”
And that’s how Jungkook ends up with Seokjin as his bodyguard.
1.
Seokjin’s terrible.
Not as a bodyguard, of course—actually, he could be terrible as a bodyguard too. Jungkook’s not seen him in action, to be honest, and sure, his uncles trust him to guard Jungkook well, even if it’s clear they don’t like him, and while they’re good judges of character, it could be that they’re wrong—
The point is, Seokjin is terrible, in general, because he feels more like a babysitter and less like a bodyguard.
Exhibit A: Him making Jungkook his breakfast, and having his clothes ready for him.
“One would think you would be grateful someone’s doing all this for you,” Seokjin tells him wryly, leaning against the counter as he sips on coffee.
“I didn’t ask for a babysitter,” Jungkook says, even as he takes a bite of the egg roll. It tastes good. Somehow, it makes Jungkook angrier. “Also, you call me young master, but you act like you own this house,” he complains, gesturing at the way Seokjin’s leaning against the counter. “The people who work for my dad—”
“Like I said, I don’t work for your dad, pup—”
“It’s young master,” Jungkook snaps.
Seokjin coos at him.
Jungkook stomps out of the kitchen in a fury.
(No, he doesn’t. The egg rolls were a little too delicious for that. All of it was, to be honest, and Jungkook’s a growing boy. He needs the nutrition.)
Seokjin is terrible, because he’s somehow interpreted bodyguard to mean stick by Jungkook’s side all the time.
(Jungkook’s aware that’s what a bodyguard, does, but—Seokjin’s being excessive, he thinks.)
Exhibit B: Seokjin refusing to let him go to university alone.
“I’ll drive you, get in the car.”
“No thank you,” Jungkook says, reaching for his helmet. “I refuse.”
Seokjin drops the car keys and Jungkook thinks he’s won, except—
“I’ll sit behind you then,” Seokjin says cheerfully, reaching for another helmet, and—
Jungkook sort of wants to stab him. A lot. He wonders if he could order him to stand still, and then throw stuff at him.
Somehow, he thinks Seokjin wouldn’t listen.
(Somehow, he thinks, Seokjin would let Jungkook hurt him.)
He ends up letting Seokjin drive him to university, and pick him up, dodging Jimin and Taehyung’s questions. He’ll tell the terrible two later. Later. Once he’s managed to annoy Seokjin into leaving.
Seokjin is terrible, period.
Exhibit C: Seokjin deciding clubbing is too dangerous.
“I’m not asking you for permission,” Jungkook snaps. “You don’t get to decide what I can and cannot do.”
“Your father’s given me absolute authority in the event that he can’t be reached, and considering he’s in a meeting that’s going to go on for the next couple of hours,” Seokjin tilts his head, “I get to tell you what to do and not do.”
“I can’t cancel on my friends, not in the last minute. It’s going to give me a terrible reputation.’
“I think your life is more important than that,” Seokjin says dryly. “Just go back to bed, pup. You can always go clubbing another time.”
Jungkook storms back up the stairs. He doesn’t go to bed, of course. He’s not going to listen to Seokjin, obviously. He’s not going to listen to this random alpha who’s shown up in his life out of nowhere and decides he can boss him around.
And besides, it’s not like the front door is the only way to leave the house.
Jungkook climbs out of the window, a tiny smile on his face.
(He’s aware he’s acting like a brat. Aware he’s acting petty, giving his bodyguard the slip just because he doesn’t like him. Aware that he could just cancel, because these are random people from his department, and not friends, or anything. But. He never claimed to be rational. And he likes to think he got his rebelliousness from his father, so.)
He regrets it half an hour later. Regrets it, because somehow most of the people who’ve shown up are alphas, a lot of them sleazy, and he should have thought about it carefully, given it was a new class he’d taken and the guy who invited him had sounded a little too friendly. And as if that isn’t bad enough, a brawl’s broken out a few tables away, and all of a sudden there’s too many angry alpha scents—too many aggressive scents, and Jungkook downs the alcohol in his glass a little quickly before getting up to his feet, and trying to make his way out of it, except—
The ground’s shaking. And everything’s blurry. And he’s a little too hot, and—
“Oh, Jungkook-ssi, you don’t look too well,” an alpha from his class says, popping up in front of him. “Let me take you outside.”
Outside, he says, and Jungkook takes his arm gratefully in that moment, even as warning bells ring in his head—even as he realizes he’s being led further inside and not out, as the guy had claimed and—
He’s been drugged, he realizes.
It has him feeling like a fool because how could he have been so careless. His father is a mafia head, for fucks sake.
But there’s only so long he can keep up with the self-deprecation because everything’s still spinning, and his limbs refuse to move the way he wants them to move—and he can see everything, it’s just that he feels trapped in his own body, and—
And now they’re inside a room at a far end. Jungkook didn’t even know they had rooms. Inside a room with three other alphas already seated and Jungkook feels fear, the way he’d felt when he’d been seven and woken up to a man hovering over him, a knife against his neck.
It’s fear that his scent turning a little too sweet, sickly sweet, and ideally, it would alert people to the fact that there’s an omega in distress, except in this situation, he doesn’t really see how it would be helpful.
The alpha who’s holding him upright pulls him closer, runs a finger down his cheek, and Jungkook wants to cry, wants to—
The alpha is wrenched away from him forcefully, and Jungkook almost crumples to the floor if not for someone else slipping their arm around his waist and holding him upright. Coffee, he thinks, as his face inadvertently ends up settling on the crook of Kim Seokjin’s neck.
Safe, his wolf howls, and Jungkook sags, letting Seokjin support him.
“Aren’t you ashamed of yourselves?” Seokjin asks, voice icy and low. He sounds terrifying. Somehow Jungkook doesn’t feel scared.
“You’re just one person,” one of the alphas starts, a little bravado in his voice that falters, probably at the look Seokjin shoots him.
“Don’t you ever dare thinking of touching my pup again,” he says quietly. “Next time, I’ll break more than an arm.”
And then, they’re leaving the room, and Jungkook feels his feet drag, feels his body weigh like lead—
“Can I carry you, pup?” Seokjin asks him gently, and Jungkook nods, because carrying, that sounds good. And so Seokjin scoops him up in his arms like he weighs nothing, and makes his way out of the club—out of all the confusing scents—into fresh, clean air—
Jungkook throws up.
Half over Seokjin, half on the ground.
And Seokjin doesn’t say anything. Just sets him down so he can throw up a little more, holds him steady, and wipes the sweat of his face.
“Better?” He asks, when Jungkook sways on his feet, wiping the mouth with the back of his hand.
Jungkook nods.
“Let’s get you home,” he says gently, guiding him to the car, and buckling him in. “You’ve had a rough night pup.”
Pup, he says so gently, and Jungkook thinks back to the club, back to—
“Your pup,” he slurs, tongue feeling too heavy in his mouth, hoping Seokjin will understand what he’s trying to ask.
And Seokjin seems to understand, because he offers Jungkook a smile that seems a little too sad in that moment—so melancholic that Jungkook wonders the next day if it was a trick of the light, because why, he thinks—would Seokjin look so sad, as he says, “You’re Namjoon-ah’s pup. That makes you mine, the way you’re Yoongi’s and Hobi’s.”
And then a little more quietly, mostly under his breath, so much so that Jungkook could have misheard, he says, “In another world, you could have been my pup.”
But Jungkook can’t be sure of that because his eyes fall close and sleep pulls him under.
The next time he wakes up, it’s to Seokjin carrying him into the house.
“Do you want to take a shower, pup?” Seokjin asks him, when he notices Jungkook’s awake. “Or do you want me to just help you get dressed into fresh clothes?”
“Shower,” Jungkook says, feeling a little more in control of his body. “Shower,” he repeats, because he smells of puke and coffee, and Seokjin’s being so gentle with him, and—“I don’t like your scent on me.”
Seokjin’s steps falter the slightest for a second, but then he keeps walking, carrying Jungkook up the stairs.
“I’ll wear scent patches from tomorrow, young master,” he says softly, setting him down in front of the bathroom. “I’ll leave your clothes outside and go make you something light to eat. Just shout if you need anything, young master, I’ve been told I have sharp hearing.”
Young master, he says, instead of pup, as he leaves the room, and—
Jungkook wants to cry.
Wants to say—
I like your scent a little too much. It reminds me of home, it reminds me of appa, and it scares me, so don’t get close to me. To our family.
Wants to say—
I was scared, and you saved me, and I want to hate you but I can’t.
Wants to say—
My father doesn’t even drink coffee, and I think it has something to do with you, and it scares me. Scares me because your scent feels so right.
He doesn’t say any of it. He also doesn’t go down to eat once he’s dressed, but opts to hide under his covers like a coward, pretending to sleep, when Seokjin comes up to check on him.
He thinks Seokjin isn’t fooled, but he doesn’t say anything, just smooths down Jungkook’s hair and leaves.
(Jungkook finds Seokjin sleeping in front of his door in the morning.)
He hates him a little more.
(He doesn’t.)
(The alphas in his elective stay away from him. He doesn’t question it.)
2.
His father comes back home. Jungkook thinks it’ll mean things go back to normal. Thinks it means he doesn’t have to see Seokjin again. Seokjin with his scent patches and the dosiraks he packs for Jungkook. Seokjin who drops him off at university and picks him up, and respects his boundaries—who isn’t afraid to sass him back, who doesn’t see him as an immature kid the way his other bodyguards had.
Kim Seokjin who asks him the day after he was drugged, not if he’s okay, but rather—
“Do you want to beat up the guys who did this to you?”
Will that make you feel a little better? He seems to be asking. What do you want me to do? He asks, instead of treating Jungkook like he’s glass. Instead of asking Jungkook why he gave him the slip.
“No,” Jungkook says, because he doesn’t think that’ll help. Thinks what would help is having Seokjin scent him, because his appa’s scent is fading—because he doesn’t smell of caramel and his clothes don’t smell of caramel and home doesn’t feel like home and somehow Seokjin’s coffee feels the closest to home at the moment and—
Will you scent me the way appa usually does? He wants to ask, except he looks at the scent patch, and thinks—
No.
He refuses to get attached to someone who might disappear anyday. Refuses to get attached to someone just because they saved him once, just because they feel like home. He’s got his appa, and Yoongi samchon and Hobi samchon and that’s enough of a family for him.
“I’m fine,” he says instead, and lets Seokjin take him to university.
Namjoon comes back, and Jungkook thinks, everything will go back to normal now, except—
“What do you mean ahjussi is still staying, appa?” He asks, uncaring of the fact that Seokjin’s standing in the kitchen within earshot.
Namjoon ruffles his hair, and tugs Jungkook closer to him, nosing against Jungkook’s temple.
Jungkook can feel the way his father’s lips curve in a fond smile when he presses a kiss into Jungkook’s hair.
“Things are still a little turbulent, pup, and Seokjin hyung still needs a place to stay, so… It’s a sort of win-win situation.”
There’s fifteen different places you could ask him to stay at, Jungkook wants to protest. You own half the buildings in Seoul, he wants to say.
Except—he pulls away, takes in his father’s exhausted features, and—
“Appa, can I sleep with you tonight?”
“Sure, pup,” his father says, hugging him tighter, and Jungkook breathes in his caramel scent and tries to forget everything else.
Of course, it’s never that easy for Jungkook. Never, because the universe is terrible like that and Jungkook wakes up in the middle of the night needing to pee. And he should have gone back to bed, really, except he hears voices from the living room and so he walks out of his room, carefully, and settles down at the top of the stairs, behind a shelf—in such a way that he can see and hear what’s going on, but so that he’s not too visible.
And it’s a good thing he’s seated when he peeks down because he sees his father curled up against Seokjin on the couch. Close enough that he could be in Seokjin’s lap, and—
What, Jungkook thinks, but he doesn’t get time to follow that thought to the end, or the emotions he’s feeling, because Seokjin starts talking, and he inches closer to the stairs a little more to hear better.
“I’m sorry about what happened at the club, Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin says, and Jungkook watches as Namjoon shakes his head a little, and rests his hand on top of Seokjin’s.
“It wasn’t your fault just like it wasn’t Jungkook’s—”
“I should have been there faster—”
“Hobi trained him, Seokjin hyung. The kid is good at giving people the slip if he wants—you were fast enough as is,” Namjoon says, and Jungkook feels a little warm, as he does terrible, the way it always is, when he thinks about that night.
“It was the fault of those assholes and,” Namjoon pauses, turns to look at Seokjin. “You paid them a visit, didn’t you?”
Jungkook blinks, because he’d seen them the next day, and none of them seemed harmed, but they hadn’t shown up from the next day, so…
“They tried to harm your pup,” Seokjin says, a bit of a growl in his voice. “I didn’t do much though, just threatened them—” He exhales. “I should have done worse, right?”
“You reported them to the police, and you made sure Jungkook’s statement wasn’t required in order to make the arrest.” Namjoon squeezes his hand. “I don’t think you needed to do more.”
“I should have killed them,” Seokjin says, and Namjoon laughs, this dry, humorless thing.
“Yoongi hyung would have hated cleaning up. He would have cursed you for it.”
Jungkook knows they aren’t joking. Somehow, instead of the words sending a chill down his back, they make him feel warm. He’s his father’s son, after all, he thinks, as he watches Namjoon look at Seokjin—as his fingers trace the scent patch on Seokjin’s neck.
“Why?” He asks, and Seokjin bites his lip.
“Jungkookie doesn’t like my scent.”
Jungkook wonders if he’s imagining the dejection in his scent. Just like he wonders if he’s imagining the amusement that shines in Namjoon’s eyes for a moment.
“Hmm, well, the pup is fast asleep right now and it’s just us, so…” He trails off, looking at Seokjin expectantly, and—
Seokjin blinks, and Jungkook thinks he understands his confusion because—
“You want me to remove the patch?”
But why, Jungkook thinks, and almost as if his father’s answering his thoughts, he says, a soft smile on his face, “I want you to scent me, hyung.”
Jungkook thinks his knees would have given out under him if he was standing. Atleast, he thinks, Seokjin’s equally shocked, because to ask someone to scent them there—as opposed to the wrist or—
And given how private of a person his father is, how he’s only allowed Jungkook, Yoongi and Hoseok to scent him, apart from Jimin and Taehyung occasionally, when they need comfort—
Jungkook doesn’t understand. Doesn’t understand who this Seokjin is, that he can appear in their lives out of nowhere, and uproot everything Jungkook knows. Doesn’t understand who this Seokjin is, who’s turning his own father into a stranger.
And as he watches Seokjin remove his scent patch hesitantly, both on his neck and wrist—as he watches him rub his wrist against his father’s scent glands in his neck—watches his father’s head drop back against Seokjin’s shoulders, eyes fluttering shut, as caramel mixes with coffee—heady and sweet and—
Jungkook goes back to his room. Settles down with his back to the door, and tries to calm his trembling heart. Things are changing, he realizes, and he doesn’t know if he likes it. Doesn’t know if he’ll grow to like it.
(He thinks he will.)
(He’s just scared.)
Jungkook can’t unsee it after that. He doesn’t know how he was this blind, to be honest, the more he observes his father and Seokjin. The way his father becomes someone younger around Seokjin—sassy, and coy, and—
He’s dressing up, he’s being whiny, he’s staring at Seokjin when he thinks Seokjin’s not looking; when he thinks Jungkook’s not looking, and Seokjin’s not any better.
Not with the way he treats Namjoon, with the way he worships him, would be a better word, Jungkook thinks. He makes his father all his favourite dishes, goes as far as feeding him, when Namjoon says he’s hurt his hand.
He calls him sweetheart, sometimes, and he always looks like he accidentally said something he never meant to say out aloud, but his father never calls him out on it, and—
They like each other, Jungkook realizes, even as he knows they’ve actually not done much beyond scenting each other. His father wouldn’t do anything without telling him, and yet, he wonders how true that is, when it comes to dating, because his father has never dated, in Jungkook’s memory. His father has never been this smitten over anyone, he realizes, and it has him hating Seokjin a little more.
Has him going to Jimin, and saying, “Do me a favour, hyung. Find out everything you can about this person.”
Jimin looks at Seokjin’s photo, and wolf-whistles.
“He’s hot.”
“He’s older than my dad,” Jungkook counters, a little tersely. “And he’s an alpha.”
“I love me my DILFs,” Jimin says, winking at Jungkook. “Also, you know I don’t really care if we’re the same subgender.”
“My dad likes him,” Jungkook snaps, and—
Jimin gapes at him, smirk wiped right off his face.
“What the hell,” he says. And then, “Wait, isn’t this guy the new bodyguard you kept whining about, the guy who saved you and… the guy you hate?”
“I hate him so much,” Jungkook says, more than a little miserably, because how dare Seokjin enter his world and shake it up like this. “And I want you to find out everything about him because he’s just so… suspicious.”
Because Jungkook knows nothing about him other than the fact that he seems to be ready to kill for Jungkook, and maybe die for Namjoon.
It should be enough, Taehyung would argue, but…
“I’ll do my best, Jungkookie,” Jimin promises him, pulling him into a hug. “Everything will be okay, bunny.”
Somehow, Jungkook doesn’t feel entirely reassured.
And then Jimin sends him the profile, and Jungkook sees ex-hitman, sees his number of kills—sees RJ on the profile—his alias, and almost chokes on the kimbap he’s eating.
He knows who RJ is. To be fair, he doesn’t think there’s anyone with ties to the underworld who hasn’t heard the name RJ, and to think that Seokjin is RJ. That a hitman as notorious as him is playing babysitter for Jungkook, and hanging around his father—
“He’s dangerous,” Jungkook tells his father, walking into his study, and locking the door tight behind him.
“Who?”
“Ahjussi,” Jungkook says. “My bodyguard.”
“Seokjin hyung?” Namjoon asks, raising a brow, and setting down the papers in his hand.
“Yes,” Jungkook says, leaning against the edge of his father’s desk, reaching for his father’s hands. “He’s RJ. The hitman. He’s dangerous.”
“Jungkook-ah—”
“Appa, he’s probably here to kill us, or to extort information from us, or—”
Namjoon pulls him into a hug.
“You’ve been having a hard time, haven’t you, pup?”
“Appa,” Jungkook tries again, because his father isn’t listening, but his father just shushes him.
“I know Seokjin hyung’s RJ, the same way I know Seokjin hyung would never harm us.” He pulls back, smiling a little at Jungkook, looking fond. “You think I would let someone into the house without knowing every single thing about them?” He squeezes Jungkook’s hands. “You think I would let someone near my precious pup without being sure they wouldn’t harm a single hair on his pretty head?”
“I don’t trust him,” Jungkook mumbles, and—
His father laughs at that, a little.
“He scares you, doesn’t he?” His father exhales, eyes a little faraway as he speaks again, “He scared me at first too. Because he made me feel things I’d never felt before. And that was scary. And so I hated him, so much, and for so long, but…”
He trails off, and Jungkook asks, voice not more than a whisper, “You like him, don’t you?”
“You’re smart, pup.”
You’re too obvious, Jungkook wants to say, but he stays quiet.
“I’ve not told him, but I think he knows,” his father goes on. “I am just… waiting for the right time. For the whole mess my side to be resolved, and then…” He looks at Jungkook then, and the dreamy look is replaced by something serious. “None of this will happen if you’re not okay with it, though, pup,” his father says. “My feelings don’t matter. You’re the most important person to me, and I’m okay with how we’ve been all along—”
“I don’t mind,” Jungkook cuts him off. He does. Terribly.
(Because his father is right. Because Seokjin scares him in too many ways—because he really is his father’s son.)
Seokjin scares him, but—
His father deserves to be loved. His father who’s given up so much for him. Who singlehandedly raised him, and made sure he wasn’t tainted by the life he led. Who’s always given Jungkook whatever he wanted, who’s ready to give up his own chance at happiness if it means Jungkook feels a little better, and—
Jungkook doesn’t need a second father figure. Jungkook doesn’t need to like Seokjin.
But if Seokjin can make his father happy, he’s not going to stand in the way of that.
He won’t make it easy for Seokjin though, he decides, as he leaves the study, his father’s dimples etched behind his eyelids—he’s going to test Seokjin in every way possible to make sure he’s the best person for his father. To make sure he’ll love him right.
That night he reads through Seokjin’s profile more thoroughly. He sees how he attended university with his father, but more importantly, also with his uncles. His uncles, who are equally wary of Seokjin. Who communicate with him in pointed silences and jabs, and—
He knows what he has to do next.