Chapter 20: a nighttime date

Seoul shimmered under a twilight sky, the city easing into evening as the last traces of daylight bled into a soft indigo, the air crisp with the promise of autumn and the faint tang of grilled meat wafting from distant stalls. Jungkook stood by the dorm’s entrance, seventeen and buzzing with a nervous energy he couldn’t shake, his dark hair falling into his eyes, longer now, brushing his lashes in a messy tangle beneath a black cap pulled low. He tugged at the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, hands shoved into his pockets, then pulled out again, fidgeting as he glanced at his phone—6:47 PM, thirteen minutes until Taehyung would meet him here for their first real date. His breath puffed in small clouds, the chill biting at his ears, and his heart thudded, a rhythm fueled by the kiss, a love now tangible, a step into something new he wasn’t sure how to navigate.

He was Jeon Jungkook, the quiet one, the boy who’d forged himself into a pillar of BTS’s rise, his voice a lifeline in their songs, his body a testament to years of grit. The stage was his domain, each cheer a shield, but off it, he was softer—vulnerable, a heart laid bare by a confession that had reshaped his world, a pull toward Taehyung that had grown from their first shared laughs into this: a love he held tight, a warmth he’d tasted in a storm-lit kiss. The days since had been a quiet dance—stolen glances, hands brushing, a closeness that glowed in the dorm’s chaos—and tonight, with the others distracted, promised a space to explore it, just them, a small date carved from Seoul’s streets.

Taehyung emerged from the stairwell, eighteen and radiant, his dark waves peeking from under a beanie, his grin wide and bright as he bounded toward Jungkook, a denim jacket slung over a loose shirt, jeans frayed at the knees. He carried a small backpack, its straps slung over one shoulder, and his presence lit the dim corridor, a spark that pierced the evening’s hush. He’d been the flame through their journey, his warmth a constant Jungkook leaned into, and the kiss had deepened him—his teasing softer, his touches bolder, a tenderness that caught Jungkook’s breath every time their eyes met. “Hey, Kookie,” Taehyung said, voice warm, stopping close enough that their shoes nearly touched, his grin turning sly. “Ready to sneak out?”

Jungkook’s ears flushed, heat creeping up his neck, and he nodded, tugging his cap lower. “Yeah,” he mumbled, avoiding Taehyung’s gaze, but Taehyung nudged his arm, his shoulder brushing Jungkook’s in a way that felt deliberate, grounding. “Good,” he said, slinging the backpack over both shoulders. “Jimin’s got the others playing some game upstairs. We’ve got hours.” His tone was light, conspiratorial, and Jungkook’s lips twitched, a faint smile breaking through, the nervous buzz easing under Taehyung’s ease.

They slipped out, masks up, caps down, blending into Seoul’s evening hum—past the dorm’s gate, down a narrow alley, the city unfolding around them in a symphony of lights and sounds. The plan was simple: a walk, some food, a quiet spot Taehyung swore Jungkook would love, no cameras, no crowds, just us. They wove through Hongdae, the streets alive with students and buskers, the air thick with the scent of tteokbokki and sweet pancakes, and Taehyung’s hand brushed Jungkook’s, a fleeting touch that sent a jolt through him, then lingered, fingers curling around Jungkook’s in a loose, secret hold hidden by their sleeves. “No one’s looking,” Taehyung murmured, grinning, and Jungkook’s heart raced, the touch a thrill he didn’t pull away from, a promise carried through the chaos.

They stopped at a street cart, the vendor’s griddle sizzling with hotteok, golden pancakes stuffed with cinnamon and sugar, and Taehyung ordered two, his voice bright as he bantered with the old man, who laughed and tossed in an extra for “the cute couple.” Jungkook’s ears burned, ducking his head, but Taehyung’s grin widened, handing him one, their fingers brushing as steam curled between them. “He’s not wrong,” Taehyung teased, taking a bite, sugar dusting his lips, and Jungkook huffed, ears red, but smiled, biting into his own, the sweetness bursting warm and familiar, a taste that felt like them—simple, shared, a moment stolen from the world.

They wandered on, the hotteok a warm weight in their hands, Taehyung leading them past neon signs and crowded cafes, his hand finding Jungkook’s again, tighter now, a quiet claim that steadied Jungkook’s nerves. “Where are we going?” Jungkook asked, voice low, the city’s hum a backdrop to their steps, and Taehyung’s grin turned mysterious, his eyes glinting under the streetlights. “Somewhere good,” he said, tugging Jungkook down a side street, narrower, quieter, the noise fading into a soft murmur as they climbed a hill, the air cooling, the skyline stretching wide below.

The spot was a small park, tucked above the city—a patch of grass, a wooden bench, a view of Seoul’s lights twinkling like stars against the dark. Taehyung flopped onto the bench, patting the space beside him, and Jungkook sank down, their thighs pressing, the backpack thudding to the ground as Taehyung rummaged inside, pulling out a thermos and two cups. “Hot chocolate,” he said, pouring it, steam rising in the cool air, and Jungkook’s chest warmed, not just from the drink, but from Taehyung’s thought, his care, a gesture that felt like home. “You planned this?” Jungkook asked, taking a cup, and Taehyung’s grin softened, his shoulder brushing Jungkook’s. “Wanted it to be special,” he said, simple, and Jungkook’s throat tightened, the love a steady hum he couldn’t outrun.

They sipped in silence, the city sprawling below—towers piercing the night, lights smearing into a glow—and Taehyung’s hand rested on Jungkook’s knee, a warm weight that sent a shiver through him, a touch that felt both new and ancient. “This is nice,” Jungkook murmured, voice low, meeting Taehyung’s eyes—dark, steady, a haven—and Taehyung’s grin widened, his fingers squeezing gently. “Yeah,” he said, leaning closer, his breath warm against Jungkook’s cheek. “Just us.” The words were a promise, a thread weaving through the night, and Jungkook nodded, the nervous buzz fading, the love a light that held them here.

They talked, voices soft—about the tour, the dorm, a fan who’d waved a Taekook sign in Bangkok—and Taehyung’s laughter rang out, deep and bright, when Jungkook admitted he’d tripped over a cord backstage. “You’re clumsy off stage,” Taehyung teased, nudging him, and Jungkook huffed, ears red, but smiled, real and wide, the ease a balm after months of chaos. Taehyung pulled out his phone, snapping a photo of the view, then turned it on Jungkook, grinning. “Smile, Kookie,” he said, and Jungkook ducked, flustered, but Taehyung leaned in, their cheeks brushing, snapping a selfie—caps low, masks down, a moment captured for them alone.

The night deepened, the air growing colder, and Taehyung shifted closer, his arm draping along the bench behind Jungkook, a casual move that felt deliberate, intimate. “You cold?” he asked, voice low, and Jungkook shook his head, but Taehyung pulled him in anyway, their sides pressed tight, his warmth seeping through Jungkook’s hoodie. “Liar,” Taehyung teased, his breath tickling Jungkook’s ear, and Jungkook’s face flamed, turning away, but Taehyung’s hand found his chin, tilting it back, their eyes locking—dark, warm, a question hanging between them.

“Tae,” Jungkook whispered, voice trembling, and Taehyung’s grin softened, his thumb brushing Jungkook’s jaw. “Yeah?” he murmured, so close now their breaths mingled, and Jungkook’s heart raced, the pull too strong to resist. He leaned in, hesitant, and Taehyung met him, their lips brushing—a soft, sweet press, warm and electric, a kiss that echoed the storm’s tenderness but burned brighter, deeper. Jungkook’s hand clutched Taehyung’s jacket, the taste of hot chocolate lingering, and Taehyung deepened it, slow and sure, a promise woven into the touch, the city a distant hum as they held each other close.

They pulled back, foreheads pressed, breaths uneven, and Taehyung’s grin was shaky, his hand cupping Jungkook’s face. “Good date?” he asked, voice rough, and Jungkook nodded, ears red, a smile breaking through. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning into Taehyung’s hold, the night wrapping around them—a small date, a big love, a bond they’d carry through Seoul’s streets, step by step, heart by heart.

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