Jungkook's eyes opened slowly.
He looked directly at Taehyung standing in the doorway. And he did not stop.
His hand kept moving. Slow now. His lips curled into a smile.
" Dad." His voice was low. Breathless. "You came."
Taehyung's face burned red. "I— I heard sounds. I thought something was wrong. I didn't mean to—"
"You didn't mean to what?" Jungkook tilted his head. "Walk in? Or watch?"
Taehyung stepped back. "I wasn't watching. I was trying to—"
"Trying to what? Tell me to stop?" Jungkook sat up. He did not reach for the blanket. He did not cover himself. He just sat there. Naked. Looking at Taehyung with those calm dark eyes.
"Turn around, Jungkook. Cover yourself. We will talk in the morning."
"Stay."
One word. Soft. Quiet. But it felt like a hand pulling Taehyung back.
"I should go."
Jungkook swung his legs off the bed and stood up. Taehyung turned his face away quickly. His chest tightened painfully.
"Dad. Look at me."
"Don't tell me what to do. You are my stepson. This is not right. "
Jungkook's voice changed.
The confidence faded. His lower lip trembled. His eyes became wet and wide.
"Appa... help me. Please." His voice cracked. Small. Like a child's.
Taehyung stopped.
"I can't... it's paining down there. Please help me."
Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut. A tear rolled down his cheek. Then another. His hands gripped the bedsheet. His whole body looked tense. Drawn up. Like he was in real pain.
Taehyung turned back slowly.
Something in his chest pulled tight. He had raised these boys for five years. He had packed their lunches. He had held Kookie when he cried. He had been their parent.
And now Jungkook was crying in front of him.
"Jungkook... what do you mean? What pain?" Taehyung's voice came out softer than he wanted it to.
Jungkook looked down at himself. Then looked away. Ashamed. "I don't know. It started a week ago. It gets hard and it won't go down. It hurts so much, appa. I tried everything. Cold water. Walking around. It doesn't stop."
Taehyung swallowed. "That is... it is normal for boys your age. It will go away on its own."
"It doesn't." Jungkook's voice broke again. His shoulders shook. "I can't sleep. I can't think. It hurts all the time. I'm scared, appa. What if something is wrong with me? What if I'm sick?"
He looked so small. Sitting on the bed. Naked. Crying. Just a boy.
Taehyung's heart cracked.
"You are not sick." he said gently. He sat down on the edge of the bed. Far from Jungkook. Keeping space between them. "This happens. You just need to let it pass."
"It doesn't pass." Jungkook wiped his face. "Please. Just help me this once. I don't know what else to do. I'm too embarrassed to go to a doctor."
Taehyung looked at him. This crying boy. His stepson. Lost and scared.
But somewhere beneath all that worry something pulled at him. Something small. A thread of doubt.
"Why were you saying my name?" Taehyung whispered.
Jungkook looked up. His face was red. More tears fell. Pure shame.
"I think about you because you're safe," Jungkook said quietly. "You're all I have, appa. Thinking about you is the only thing that keeps me from being scared. That's all. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me."
He reached for Taehyung.
Taehyung pulled back slightly.
And then he caught it.
Just for a moment. Under the tears and the trembling lip. Something in Jungkook's eyes. Fast. Gone before Taehyung could name it.
Like a cat playing dead until it felt too safe to bite.
Then Jungkook cried harder. His body folded over. He looked so young and pitiful.
Taehyung reached for his hand.
"Okay," he said softly. "Okay. Don't cry. Don't cry. Tell me what you need. Tell me how to help."
