"We Finally Met"
Jungkook stared at the envelope long after the man had left. It sat on the counter like a question he didn’t want to answer. The letters of his name stared back at him in steady handwriting. No flourish. No pressure. Just Jeon Jungkook, centered on the paper with quiet confidence. Taehyung’s confidence. He didn’t touch it. Instead, he worked.
The bakery opened with the usual rhythm: early risers seeking warmth in coffee cups, mothers gathering pastries for school lunches, sleepy office workers ordering in low voices. Jungkook moved on instinct—knead, cut, serve, smile. His body knew the motions even as his mind spun circles around that envelope. It remained unopened, placed neatly beside the cash register where he could see it. A reminder. A presence. Kim Taehyung knows who I am now. He hadn’t decided how he felt about that
Across the city, Taehyung sat in a meeting room surrounded by executives, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Namjoon noticed. They were discussing logistics for a winter housing initiative spearheaded by Taehyung’s foundation, but while his answers were technically correct, they lacked his usual engagement. He barely made eye contact. His fingers tapped against the table in a slow, distracted rhythm.
Kim Namjoon/ Alpha
"Still no word?"
Namjoon leaned in and murmured. Taehyung didn’t respond. Because no, there had been no word. No reply. And he hadn’t expected one. He’d written the letter that night. Not with the intention of persuading Jungkook or asking to meet. Just... to speak. To be understood. To give him a choice. And now, it was Jungkook’s move.
That evening, Jungkook sat cross-legged on the floor of his apartment, the envelope in his lap. He’d showered. Cleaned the dishes. Tidied the bookshelf. Made tea. Everything except open it. But there were only so many ways to delay the inevitable. Finally, he slid his finger under the flap and unfolded the single sheet of paper inside. It wasn’t long. But it was enough.
> Jungkook,
I don’t know what you saw when you looked at me in that bookstore. I only know what I felt: that I recognized you.
I’m not writing to ask for anything. I just want you to know that I see you. Not as a scent. Not as an Omega. Just... as you.
If you don’t want to be found, I will respect that. I won’t show up at your work. I won’t send anyone again. But if you ever want to talk, I’ll listen.
No expectations.
—Kim Taehyung
Jungkook read it twice. Then a third time. There were no strings. No demands. Not even a phone number. Just words. Gentle ones. He folded it back up and held it in his hands like something fragile. And he didn’t cry, but something in him softened in a way he hadn’t allowed in years.
Later that night, in the warmth of their shared loft, Jimin, Yoongi, and Hoseok were sprawled across the oversized couch, a half-finished takeout spread on the table.
Kim Jimin/Omega
“I’m telling you, Taehyung hyung got it bad. He looked like a kicked puppy today.”
Jimin said, poking at his dumpling with chopsticks.
Min Yoongi / Alpha
“He’s always broody. This is just a new flavor of it.”
Yoongi snorted. Hoseok laughed.
Jung Hoseok/Beta
“Yeah, but it’s not just any Omega. He saw someone—smelled them—and didn’t immediately chase. That’s new.”
Kim Jimin/Omega
"He's changing."
Min Yoongi / Alpha
"Oh he's scared."
They all knew what fear felt like. Even Alphas. Even ones as strong as Taehyung.
Jimin reached across Hoseok to tap Yoongi’s knee.
Kim Jimin/Omega
"You okay?"
Min Yoongi / Alpha
"Yeah just thinking."
Yoongi shrugged lazily. Hoseok shifted closer, warmth between their bodies.
Jung Hoseok/Beta
"Don't think much. Just stay here."
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was heavy in a familiar, comforting way. Three bodies, three hearts, slowly figuring out how to beat together.
And back in his apartment, Jungkook unfolded the letter again. Still no contact info. No demands. Just… a window. And maybe just maybe—he wasn’t afraid of looking through it anymore.
Rue^
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