Silence Behind Glass

Part I

An invitation arrived on cream-colored paper, embossed with gold leaf, and Taehyung wanted to burn it.

"The Seoul Humanitarian Foundation Gala," Taehyung read it in a whisper, practically starting to feel anxious. "Tae, this is huge. My dad got me a plus-one and I'm using it on you. We're going." Jimin said excitedly.

"We're not going anywhere." Taehyung pressed the invitation back into Jimin's hands like it was radioactive. "I don't do galas. I don't do crowds. I don't do people."

"You do friendship, and friendship means occasionally leaving your cave of vintage paper and existential dread." Jimin grabbed Taehyung's shoulders, forcing eye contact. "Listen to me. You've been hiding for years. You work, you come home, you draw doodles and sad shadows, you sleep. Repeat. When was the last time you did something terrifying?"

"Yesterday, when I answered the phone."

"That doesn't count." Jimin's voice softened. "Taehyung, I'm not trying to torture you. I just think—maybe—you need to remember that everyone isn't all bad. There's music and champagne and pretty lights. And if it gets too much, we leave. I promise." Jimin said with puppy eyes.

Taehyung looked at his friend's cute face and felt something crack. Jimin had never pushed him like this before. Maybe that was why it worked.

"Fine," he whispered. "But you stay with me the entire time."

"Every single second." Jimin said while smiling brightly.

---

Three nights later, Taehyung stood in front of his bathroom mirror and questioned every life choice that had led to this moment.

The suit was borrowed—navy blue, tailored, silk lapels that whispered against his fingers. His hair had been tamed into soft waves, falling across his forehead in a way that made him look younger. Fragile. Jimin had added a delicate silver chain around his neck, a small crescent moon resting against his collarbone.

"You look like a painting," Jimin said from the doorway, already dressed in white. "A very nervous, but very beautiful painting."

"I feel like I'm going to vomit."

"That's the spirit."

The gala was held at the Shilla Hotel, a palace of crystal chandeliers and marble floors, polished to mirror brightness. Taehyung stepped out of the car and immediately forgot how to breathe. Hundreds of guests swirled around him in silks and diamonds, laughter ringing off ceilings three stories high. Champagne flutes caught the light. A string quartet played something of Vivaldi, the notes too pretty, too perfect.

Jimin took his hand. "You're okay. I'm right here."

They moved through the crowd like fish through murky water. Taehyung kept his head down, shoulders hunched, avoiding eye contact. He let Jimin do the talking—hellos to colleagues, smiles to acquaintances, all the social choreography Taehyung had never done or learned.

And then Jimin spotted someone across the room.

"Oh! Bo-gum! I haven't seen him in months." Jimin squeezed Taehyung's hand. "He's an old friend from university. You'll like him. He's very nice."

Before Taehyung could protest, a man was approaching. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a smile that seemed genuine and eyes that swept over Taehyung with immediate interest. Bo-gum. He wore a charcoal suit and smelled of expensive cologne—too much of it, cloying and sweet.

"Jimin! You look incredible." Bo-gum hugged Jimin warmly, then turned to Taehyung. "And who's this? You didn't tell me you were bringing someone so beautiful."

Taehyung's cheeks flamed. "I'm Taehyung. Jimin's friend."

"Lucky Jimin." Bo-gum's handshake lasted a beat too long. His thumb stroked across Taehyung's knuckles. "Can I get you a drink? You look like you need one."

"I don't really—"

"He'd love one," Jimin interrupted, already being pulled toward another group by a waving colleague. "I'll be right back, Tae. Bo-gum, take care of him!"

And then Jimin was gone.

Taehyung stood frozen, surrounded by strangers, with Bo-gum's hand now resting on his lower back. The touch felt like a brand. Too warm. Too familiar.

"So,"Bo-gum murmured, guiding him toward the bar. "What does someone like you do for work?"

"I—I manage a bookshop. Midnight Pages. It's small—"

"That's adorable." Bo-gum ordered two glasses of champagne without asking what Taehyung wanted. "You seem nervous. First gala?"

Taehyung nodded, accepting the glass he didn't want. His fingers trembled. Champagne sloshed against the rim.

"You'll get used to it." Bo-gum leaned closer, his breath hot against Taehyung's ear. "Or we could go somewhere quieter. Less overwhelming. I know a terrace garden just off the main hall. Very private."

The word private sent ice down Taehyung's spine. "I should wait for Jimin—"

"Jimin will spend hours catching up with everyone. Come on. Just for a minute." Bo-gum's hand slid from his back to his waist, fingers curling possessively. "You're too pretty to hide in a crowd."

Taehyung's heart slammed against his ribs. Every instinct screamed run, but his body had turned to stone. His mouth opened. No sound came out.

Bo-gum interpreted the silence as consent.

He steered Taehyung through a side door, down a dim corridor, past clusters of potted ferns and into a small enclosed garden. The night air was cold. The city hummed distantly. No one else was there.

"The moon looks beautiful tonight," Bo-gum said, turning to face Taehyung. His smile had changed. The warmth had curdled into something hungrier. "Almost as beautiful as you."

Taehyung stepped backward. His spine hit a stone pillar. "I think I should go back inside."

"Relax." Bo-gum advanced, closing the distance. "Why are you so scared? I'm not going to hurt you." His hand came up to cup Taehyung's jaw. Too rough. Fingers pressing into the bone. "I just want to get to know you better. Is that so wrong?"

"Please—" Taehyung's voice started to crack. Tears burned behind his eyes. "Please don't. I want to leave."

Bo-gum's grip tightened. His other hand pinned Taehyung's wrist against the pillar. "You're being dramatic. Just calm down. While I'm being nice." His eyes darkened.

Taehyung could feel it in the way Bo-gum's body pressed against his, the way his breath came faster, the way his fingers slid from Taehyung's jaw down to his throat. His hands started to roam his body little by little, and gave a small peck on his neck.

"Stop," Taehyung gasped. "Please, please stop—"

"Shh. No one can hear you out here."

Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut. Tears spilled down his cheeks. His whole body trembled—not with cold, but with a terror so complete it erased thought, erased sound, erased everything except the desperate wish to disappear.

And then—

"Get your hands off him."

The voice came from the garden entrance. Low. Soft. Absolutely lethal.

Bo-gum froze. His grip slackened just enough for Taehyung to slim free, stumbling sideways, pressing himself against the pillar with his arms wrapped around his own body. He couldn't see. His vision had blurred with tears and panic. He didn't know why his body reacted that way

But he could hear footsteps. Steady. Unhurried. The click of expensive dress shoes on stone.

"I said," the voice repeated, closer now, "get your hands off him. Or I will remove them myself."

Bo-gum laughed—a nervous, brittle sound. "This is a private conversation. I don't know who you think you—"

"I'm Jeon Jungkook."

The name landed like a guillotine.

Bo-gum's laughter died. His face went pale, then ashen. "Mr. Jeon. I—I didn't realize—we were just talking—"

"Leave. Now. And if I ever see you near him again, I will destroy every aspect of your life so completely that your grandchildren will feel it." Jungkook's voice never rose above a whisper. That was what made it terrifying. "You have three seconds."

Bo-gum fled. In shock and in anger for letting a good prey get taken. His footsteps echoed down the corridor, then faded.

Silence returned to the garden.

Taehyung stood shaking against the pillar, arms wrapped around himself, tears streaming silently down his face. He couldn't look up. Couldn't move. Couldn't do anything except tremble and cry and wish the ground would open.

Then he felt it—warmth. A jacket being draped over his shoulders. Expensive wool, still holding the heat of the man who'd worn it.

"Breathe," Jungkook said softly. He didn't touch Taehyung. Didn't try to hold him or comfort him physically. He simply stood close—close enough to shield him from the cold, close enough that Taehyung could smell vetiver and something darker. "You're safe now. No one is going to touch you. But I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me?"

Taehyung tried. A ragged inhale. A sob disguised as an exhale.

"That's it. Again."

Another breath. Easier this time. The trembling began to slow.

Slowly—so slowly—Taehyung raised his head.

And found himself staring into the face he'd been drawing from his mind for weeks. The sharp jaw. The dark eyes. The mouth that curved like a blade. But up close, Jungkook's expression wasn't cold at all. It was raw. Angry, yes—a fury so controlled it vibrated beneath his skin. But beneath that, something else. Something that looked almost like pain.

"Who are you?" Taehyung whispered, though he already knew the answer.

Jungkook's gaze traced his tear-streaked face, the silver chain at his throat, the trembling hands clutching the lapels of the borrowed jacket. Something shifted in those dark eyes. Something dangerous and tender and entirely unguarded.

"Someone who doesn't like seeing beautiful things crying," Jungkook said quietly. Then, softer: "What's your name?"

"Taehyung."

"Taehyung." Jungkook tested the name like it was sacred. "Can you walk? I'll take you inside. Find your friend."

Taehyung shook his head. His knees buckled.

Jungkook caught him—not roughly, not possessively, but carefully. An arm around his waist, steadying him. His hand hovered just above Taehyung's hip, barely touching, asking permission without words.

"I've got you," Jungkook murmured.

And despite everything—despite the terror still clawing at his chest, despite the tears still wet on his cheeks, despite every reason he had to be afraid—Taehyung leaned into the warmth and believed him.

Hi! there!🌱💜 like i said right now i am just reviewing my work and have it almost done to post it all! so excited to do this. But i will be posting everyday if i am able to meet my deadline at 10pm.

Please ignore the mistakes—I'm learning as I go.

Let me know if you like the story so far.

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Thank you for being kind to me baiii BORAHAE!💜💜