Chapter Text
The morning hit Jungkook like a hammer.
First, the shame. Waking up in bed only to discover he hadn’t been the one to get himself there. No, it had been Taehyung. Of course it had. His hyung had dealt with him, stripped him down, dressed him, tucked him in.
And worse than that—he’d woken up wet.
It wasn’t the first time. With a regression range as young as his, accidents happened even outside of little space. He knew that. Everyone knew that. Knowing didn’t make it sting any less.
The second strike against his morning? A pounding hangover. Schedules already made days miserable; with his head splitting and his stomach queasy, today was shaping up to be hell. He’d been stupid to drink. Stupider to get high. Especially with work waiting.
Jungkook sighed, dragging himself upright. No point sulking—he needed to get ready if he wanted even a chance at breakfast before heading out. Phone on the charger, suitcase half-exploded across the floor, he started pawing through clothes. Jeans, t-shirt, sunglasses maybe—anything to hide how wrecked he looked.
A knock sounded.
He didn’t bother asking who it was. Of course it was Taehyung.
He opened the door, and there he was—impossibly put-together, like mornings didn’t touch him. Jungkook wanted to groan.
“You look like crap,” Taehyung said by way of greeting, strolling in without invitation. In one hand, he carried pills and a sippy cup filled with water.
“Really?” Jungkook muttered, rolling his eyes. As if he didn’t already know. That’s why he was trying so hard to pull himself together.
Taehyung smirked, dropping onto the edge of the bed like he owned the place. His gaze swept the room, eyebrow arching at the hurricane of clothes and clutter. “Drink it. It’ll help.” He held out the pills and the cup.
Jungkook turned, catching sight of the plastic cup in Taehyung’s hand. A sippy cup. He almost choked.
“That’s hilarious,” he said flatly, taking the pills but glaring at the cup. “I can drink out of a normal glass, you know.”
“You sure?” Taehyung teased, shaking the cup slightly. “Don’t want you spilling all over yourself, big boy.”
“I am big,” Jungkook shot back, swallowing the pill and taking a long sip just to prove the point. “See?”
“A big boy,” Taehyung repeated, lips twitching like he was trying not to laugh.
“Yes,” Jungkook said firmly, though the effect was ruined when his voice cracked halfway through. He shoved the cup back into Taehyung’s hand and went back to digging through his suitcase. Jeans and a t-shirt. Simple, safe. He’d just need to shower, slip on a pull-up—no way was he risking an accident today—and change.
Of course, Taehyung didn’t move. Why would he? He stayed right there, lounging on the bed, clearly planning to supervise whether Jungkook wanted him to or not.
The shower helped a little. Cool water against overheated skin, washing away the sweat and fog. But once he was back in the bathroom, dripping hair and towel slung low on his hips, reality caught up with him.
The pull-up.
He hated it. Always had. But worse than wearing it was failing to put it on. His fingers were clumsy, head still spinning, his body half-trembling with fatigue. The waistband twisted no matter how he tugged, one leg stuck halfway, then the other. He swore under his breath, tried again, failed again.
Life was mocking him.
Asking for help was out of the question. It would mean admitting defeat, admitting he wasn’t big at all. Especially not in front of Taehyung.
And yet—minutes dragged by. Still no progress. No way out.
He swallowed hard. Humiliation burned in his chest.
“Hyung,” Jungkook whispered.
Silence.
He squeezed his eyes shut, face hot. Louder this time: “Hyung. I… need help.”
The door creaked open almost instantly. Taehyung leaned against the frame, smirk tugging at his mouth. “What was that? Didn’t catch it.”
Jungkook wanted the earth to swallow him. “I said I need help.”
Taehyung stepped in, eyes scanning the scene. Jungkook, half-dressed, tangled in his own pull-up, glaring like he wanted to murder someone. It was—honestly—adorable.
“You really are hopeless,” Taehyung said, crouching down. His voice was matter-of-fact, like they were discussing the weather. He tugged the waistband free, guided one leg through, then the other, adjusting the fit until it sat snug at Jungkook’s hips. His hands lingered a second to smooth the waistband flat. “There. Properly on.”
Jungkook’s ears burned.
Taehyung straightened, snagging the jeans from where they were draped over the sink. “Arms up,” he ordered, tugging them up and buttoning them before Jungkook could protest. Then the t-shirt followed, slid over his damp hair and down his torso.
“I thought you were a big boy,” Taehyung said lightly, brushing his hands off as if the job was done.
Jungkook’s glare could’ve melted steel. But Taehyung only smirked, eyes sharp and amused.
And that was how Jungkook’s morning went: wet, hungover, humiliated, and dressed like a toddler by his sarcastic hyung.
It was going to be a long day.