Chapter 2: The Morning After

The air between them the next morning was electric, a dangerous kind of charged. It wasn’t awkward, but it was... different. Like something had shifted. Like they’d crossed a line they couldn’t return from—and neither of them wanted to.

Taehyung strolled into the campus courtyard like a man who owned the world. Black leather jacket, hair artfully tousled, and a smirk that spelled nothing but trouble. Jungkook, beside him, wore an oversized hoodie that swallowed him whole and avoided eye contact like his life depended on it. His cheeks were still tinged pink from the memory of the kiss—their first kiss.

The campus was buzzing—not from what happened between them, but from the aftermath of the fight the day before.

“Did you hear? Taehyung nearly killed someone.”

“Three people. Over Jungkook.”

“I swear, that boy’s in love.”

Jungkook’s ears burned. He could feel eyes following him, whispers floating just out of earshot. But Taehyung? He didn’t even flinch. He walked like he was untouchable, like Jungkook’s hand in his was the most natural thing in the world.

They reached the campus café where their friends usually met, and sure enough, all six were already there—loud, chaotic, and as nosey as ever.

“Wow, look who finally shows up,” Jimin teased, raising an eyebrow and nudging Yoongi. “We were betting on whether you’d be late because of a makeout session or a jail visit.”

“Both,” Yoongi muttered under his breath, sipping his coffee without looking up.

Seokjin clapped dramatically like he was watching a drama unfold. “Boys! We live for the chaos.”

Lisa smirked from behind her iced latte, eyes glinting. “Did the little bunny finally confess to the tiger?”

Jungkook groaned and buried his face in his hands. Taehyung, ever the embodiment of confidence, dropped into the chair beside him and casually slung an arm over his shoulder.

“He didn’t have to confess,” Taehyung said, like it was the simplest truth in the world. “I already knew.”

Jungkook turned to him, eyes wide. “Yah!” he hissed.

Everyone burst out laughing.

Hoseok wiped a tear, grinning. “God, you two are exhausting. Just sleep together already and spare us the tension.”

Jimin leaned closer, eyes twinkling with mischief. “So… did you?”

Taehyung smirked and sipped Jungkook’s drink like he owned it.

“Oh my God,” Lisa said, pointing. “He just drank from his cup. That’s basically marriage.”

“Shut up!” Jungkook groaned again, redder than a tomato.

Yoongi looked up briefly from his phone, eyes flicking to Jimin. “Leave them alone,” he said quietly. “They’re cute.”

Jimin blinked, slightly surprised by the softness in Yoongi’s tone. Then he smirked and nudged him again. “You think I’m cute too, don’t you?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, but there was the faintest tint of pink on his ears. “In your dreams.”

“Every night,” Jimin shot back, and Lisa nearly spit out her coffee.

Later that day, Taehyung and Jungkook found themselves in the quiet reading room of the library. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting a golden glow across the wooden desks. Students were scattered throughout, nose-deep in books or furiously typing away.

Taehyung was supposed to be working on his philosophy essay. Instead, he was doodling Jungkook’s name in the margins of his notebook.

Jungkook leaned over and whispered, “Are you seriously drawing hearts right now?”

Taehyung didn’t look up. “I’d draw them on your skin if you let me.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love it.”

“I really don’t.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

Jungkook quickly looked away, lips tugging upward despite himself.

After a few minutes of silence, Taehyung spoke again—softer this time. “You know… I meant what I said yesterday. About not being able to breathe when I think about you getting hurt.”

Jungkook turned to him, eyes filled with something unreadable. “I know.”

“I’ve felt this way for a long time,” Taehyung admitted. “I just didn’t know how to say it without ruining everything.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Jungkook said. “You... made it clear.”

Taehyung chuckled. “That’s the first time someone’s ever called me clear.”

That evening, as twilight painted the sky in hues of purple and gold, Taehyung dragged Jungkook to the rooftop of the music building.

“Why are we here?” Jungkook asked, slightly out of breath.

“I like watching you under the stars. You look... honest.”

Jungkook blinked at him. “That’s the weirdest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

Taehyung grinned. “I’m weird. You knew this.”

They sat down side by side, backs against the brick wall. The city lights flickered in the distance, and the stars slowly blinked into view above them. For a while, neither spoke.

Then Taehyung turned, took Jungkook’s hand in his, and said, “Let’s be stupid together. Wild, reckless, head-over-heels kind of stupid.”

Jungkook stared at him for a long moment. His heart was pounding. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves or excitement—or maybe something bigger than either.

“Okay,” he whispered.

And as they lay side by side on the rooftop, fingers tangled, the sky stretched above them like a promise yet to be fulfilled.

They were falling—and maybe that was the point.

Inside the dorms, the rest of the group was gathered for movie night. Jimin, legs over Yoongi’s lap, was fake-arguing about which movie to pick.

“Rom-com,” Jimin insisted.

“No way,” Yoongi said. “I’m not watching people cry and kiss over coffee.”

“You’re just afraid it’ll remind you of me.”

Yoongi blinked. “That’s not how that sentence works.”

“You’re not denying it, though.”

Lisa snorted. “God, I ship it.”

“Shut up and press play,” Seokjin said, tossing popcorn.

Outside, under the stars, Taehyung leaned closer to Jungkook and kissed his temple.