Jungkook's pulse pounded in his ears.

Stay. Be my bodyguard.

The words echoed in his mind, looping over and over, like a bad dream he couldn't shake.

He should've said no.

He should've walked away.

Instead, he was still standing there, staring at Taehyung like a damn fool.

"I can pay you well," Taehyung added, shifting Jiho higher on his chest. His voice was soft, like he was trying not to spook Jungkook, but his gaze was firm. Serious.

Jungkook's fists clenched. "I don't need your money."

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. "Then what do you need?"

Jungkook didn't answer.

Because he didn't know.

A home? Stability? A life that wasn't spent running from his past?

No. That was a dangerous train of thought.

"I don't do well with people," Jungkook muttered instead, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "I'm not good at—" He exhaled sharply, searching for the words.

At this. At warmth. At kindness.

Taehyung tilted his head, waiting.

Jungkook swallowed. "I don't know how to be... soft."

A small silence stretched between them.

Then, Taehyung smiled, just barely.

"I don't need you to be soft."

Jungkook's chest tightened.

Taehyung shifted in his seat, adjusting Jiho in his arms. "I need someone who can protect me. Someone strong. Someone I can trust."

Jungkook almost laughed.

Trust? In him?

The ex-fighter with blood-stained fists and nothing to his name?

The irony was suffocating.

"I don't know how to do that either," he admitted, voice low.

Taehyung didn't flinch. "Then learn."

Jungkook's breath hitched.

Learn?

No one had ever said that to him before.

People had always expected things from him. Expected him to fight, to bleed, to keep his mouth shut and take whatever the world threw at him.

No one had ever given him the chance to be anything else.

Taehyung watched him, silent, patient.

And for the first time, Jungkook realized—he wasn't pushing.

He wasn't forcing Jungkook to stay.

He was offering.

And that scared Jungkook more than anything.

He exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair.

"What if I mess up?" he muttered.

Taehyung hummed, thoughtful. "Then you try again."

Jungkook hated how easy he made it sound.

"You don't even know me."

"I know enough."

Jungkook scoffed. "Yeah? What do you know?"

Taehyung's gaze softened.

"That you don't want to leave."

Jungkook froze.

The air between them shifted.

Taehyung's voice had been barely above a whisper, but it hit Jungkook harder than any punch he'd ever taken.

Because it was true.

He didn't want to leave.

He should've. He needed to.

But his body stayed frozen in place, his feet refusing to move.

Because some part of him—**the part he had buried deep down, the part that was tired of fighting, tired of running—**wanted to stay.

Even if he didn't deserve it.

Even if he didn't know how.

Jiho stirred in Taehyung's arms then, letting out a tiny sigh.

Jungkook's gaze flickered down.

So small. So fragile.

So loved.

Jungkook had never had that. Never had a home, or a family, or someone who looked at him like he was worth something.

Maybe...

Maybe just for a little while.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face.

"...What would I have to do?"

Taehyung blinked. Then, slowly, he smiled.

"You'll stay in the outhouse," he said, voice warm. "You'll be by my side when I leave the house, watch over Jiho, and make sure no one with bad intentions gets too close."

Jungkook's jaw tightened.

It sounded too easy.

Too good.

"There's more to it, isn't there?"

Taehyung's smile didn't fade. "Probably. But we'll figure it out."

Jungkook exhaled through his nose.

This was a bad idea.

A really, really bad idea.

But...

He was tired of sleeping in alleyways.

Tired of running from ghosts.

Tired of waking up with nothing but bruises and bloodstains to show for his existence.

Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it would end badly.

But for now—just for now—he would stay.

"...Fine," he muttered. "I'll do it."

Taehyung's eyes brightened.

"Good," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

And just like that, Jungkook had sealed his fate.