Terms and Conditions

Morning sunlight spilled through the panoramic windows of TechVast’s 47th floor, pooling like gold across steel and glass. The city below buzzed, but inside the conference room, the air was unnervingly still. Only the steady click of a pen and the faint rustle of papers broke the silence.

Taehyung was already seated at the head of the table, immaculate as always, his expression cool and unreadable. In front of him sat a contract draft thick enough to crush an ego. He didn’t look up when Jungkook entered—he simply said, “You’re late.”

“I’m fashionably late,” Jungkook replied, dropping into the chair opposite him. “There’s a difference.”

Taehyung finally lifted his gaze. “In business, it’s the same thing.”

“Then maybe business needs a better stylist.”

A quiet sigh left Taehyung’s lips—half annoyance, half reluctant amusement. “We’re supposed to finalize our collaboration outline today. Try to act like an adult for at least an hour.”

“No promises.”

Before Taehyung could retort, the glass doors slid open and two new figures walked in.

The first was Yuna Park—sharp-eyed, effortlessly chic, carrying her tablet like it was an extension of her mind. She was Jungkook’s creative director, known for her brutal honesty and her ability to turn chaos into runway-worthy beauty.

“Gentlemen,” she greeted, her tone both respectful and daring. “Or should I say, children with too much money?”

Jungkook smirked. “See why I keep her around?”

Taehyung’s brow arched, but before he could respond, another voice joined—calm, low, composed.

“That explains a lot.”

Min Haneul entered next, Taehyung’s chief strategist. Polished and analytical, Haneul had the demeanor of someone who could predict a storm by the way the wind moved. His presence balanced Taehyung’s intensity with quiet restraint.

“Park Yuna,” he said, offering a polite nod. “I’ve heard your campaigns practically redefine aesthetic marketing.”

Yuna smiled. “And I’ve heard you convince boardrooms with numbers the way poets use metaphors.”

Jungkook muttered, “Great, now they’re flirting with statistics.”

Taehyung didn’t smile, but the corner of his mouth softened. “Can we begin before the economy collapses?”

The meeting started. Contracts were reviewed, clauses dissected, visions debated.

Taehyung spoke in precision—facts, data, long-term scalability.

Jungkook countered with emotion—impact, storytelling, the human pulse behind design.

Yuna and Haneul exchanged glances more than once, as if silently agreeing their bosses were going to drive each other insane and change the world in the process.

When Jungkook leaned forward to make a point, Taehyung mirrored the movement unconsciously. Their voices overlapped, competing yet harmonizing in a strange way neither acknowledged.

“So, you’re suggesting we integrate tech sensors directly into the fabric seams?” Jungkook asked.

“Yes,” Taehyung replied. “They’ll sync with the TechVast AI to monitor body temperature, pulse, and environmental stress.”

Jungkook’s eyes glinted. “Useful. But if it ruins the silhouette, I’m out. Function should flirt with beauty, not suffocate it.”

“Flirt?” Taehyung repeated, tasting the word. “Interesting choice.”

Yuna coughed deliberately. “Flirtation aside, we need prototypes by the end of the week.”

Jungkook turned to her. “See? That’s why you’re my favorite.”

She smiled faintly. “I’m everyone’s favorite until I start nagging about deadlines.”

Haneul spoke next, tone smooth. “If we manage to combine KORÉ’s textile design with TechVast’s micro-tech, this partnership could redefine wearable innovation. Investors expect results fast.”

“Fast doesn’t mean careless,” Taehyung added sharply.

“Neither does passion mean chaos,” Jungkook countered instantly.

Their eyes met again—briefly, dangerously—and for a moment everyone else in the room ceased to exist.

By late afternoon, the team dispersed to handle logistics. Only the four of them remained—Jungkook and Yuna reviewing sketches, Taehyung and Haneul scanning legal revisions.

Yuna leaned closer to Jungkook. “He’s… intense.”

Jungkook exhaled. “He’s infuriating.”

“Mm,” she hummed. “And yet you haven’t stopped looking at him for the past five minutes.”

Jungkook froze. “That’s because I’m waiting for him to mess up.”

“Right,” she said, clearly unconvinced.

Across the table, Haneul watched the exchange, amused. “They’re going to kill each other.”

Taehyung didn’t look up. “Not before the product launch.”

Evening fell. The city outside turned gold to indigo, the skyline flickering with neon veins. Taehyung loosened his tie—a rare sight—and stood by the window.

“You work too much,” Jungkook said, appearing beside him. His reflection shimmered in the glass.

“You talk too much,” Taehyung replied.

“I get paid for that.”

“Not by me.”

Silence again—comfortable this time. The hum of distant traffic filled the spaces between their words.

“Do you ever stop?” Jungkook asked softly. “Thinking. Planning. Controlling.”

Taehyung’s eyes lingered on the horizon. “If I stop, everything I built falls apart.”

Jungkook studied him. For the first time, he saw something raw behind the perfection—a flicker of exhaustion, maybe even loneliness.

“You know,” Jungkook said quietly, “you don’t have to prove you’re made of steel all the time.”

Taehyung turned slightly, meeting his gaze. “And you don’t have to hide how much you care.”

Jungkook’s throat went dry. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Maybe,” Taehyung said. “But it’s true.”

Their eyes held. The city lights painted them in silver and gold—two worlds colliding, neither willing to break but both starting to bend.

Then Yuna’s voice sliced through the tension. “Gentlemen, before you start writing poetry, we have revisions.”

Both men blinked, stepping apart as if caught doing something forbidden. Haneul hid a knowing smile behind his laptop.

Hours later, Yuna and Haneul finally left. The office quieted, leaving only the faint hum of electronics and the scent of coffee gone cold. Taehyung remained at his desk; Jungkook wandered to the prototype table where rolls of smart fabric glimmered faintly under the soft light.

He traced a line of code printed along the hem. “You ever think,” he murmured, “that maybe this partnership was the universe’s cruel joke?”

Taehyung looked up from his paperwork. “Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s too perfect and too dangerous at the same time.”

Taehyung rose, walking over until he stood beside him again. “Some of the best things are.”

Jungkook turned his head, just enough to meet his eyes. “You think this will work?”

“The deal or… us?” The last word slipped out before Taehyung could stop it.

Jungkook’s heart stumbled. “Both, maybe.”

Taehyung’s lips curved—not a smile, but something gentler. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

That night, when Jungkook finally left the TechVast building, he felt strangely wired.

Yuna caught up to him in the lobby, looping her arm through his.

“Dangerous game you’re playing,” she said lightly.

“What game?”

“The one where you start liking the person you’re supposed to hate.”

He laughed softly. “You think I like him?”

“I think,” she said, pressing the elevator button, “that you’re scared of what would happen if you did.”

He didn’t answer. But as the doors closed, he realized she might be right.

Upstairs, Taehyung stood by the same window, city lights flickering in his eyes. Haneul approached, holding two cups of coffee.

“Still here?” Haneul asked. “Even for you, that’s impressive.”

Taehyung accepted the cup. “I needed quiet.”

“Or you needed to think about him.”

Taehyung froze mid-sip. “Excuse me?”

Haneul’s expression was maddeningly calm. “You’re not subtle, Taehyung. You argue differently with him. It’s like you’re trying to understand a language you secretly already know.”

Taehyung looked away, jaw tightening. “You’re reading too much into it.”

“Am I?” Haneul smiled faintly. “Just remember: even the strongest empires fall when the heart starts negotiating.”

Taehyung didn’t reply. But as the city glowed beneath him, he wondered—for the first time in years—what it would feel like to stop fighting and simply… feel.

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