Jungkook didn't know what to do.

Jiho was so small.

He fit in Jungkook's arms like he was made to be there, his tiny body warm against Jungkook's chest. But he was also fragile—his breaths coming in soft little puffs, his fingers barely curling against Jungkook's hoodie.

Jungkook sat stiffly on the couch, terrified to move.

He had never held a baby before.

He had never even been close to one.

Jiho let out a tiny whimper, shifting slightly. Jungkook froze.

What was wrong? Was he uncomfortable? Did he need something? Was he about to cry?

Jungkook had no idea what to do.

His body was trained for battle, honed to react to danger in a second. But this—**holding something this soft, this delicate—**was completely foreign to him.

Jiho let out another small noise, his face scrunching up.

Jungkook panicked. Shit.

He shifted Jiho slightly, trying to hold him the way he had seen Taehyung do.

At first, Jiho stiffened.

But then, as if sensing something, he relaxed.

Jungkook barely breathed as Jiho settled against his chest, his tiny body molding against him. Like he belonged there.

Jiho nuzzled into Jungkook's hoodie, letting out a soft sigh before falling completely silent.

Jungkook stared down at him, something strange and unfamiliar twisting in his chest.

Jiho wasn't scared of him.

Jungkook had spent his entire life being feared.

People looked at him and saw a fighter, a threat.

But Jiho—he wasn't afraid.

He trusted him.

Jungkook's grip tightened slightly, protective in a way he didn't understand.

He wasn't Jiho's father.

But at this moment, that didn't matter.

Jiho was safe in his arms.

And Jungkook would make sure it stayed that way.

—

By the time Taehyung came out of the shower, Jungkook hadn't moved.

Taehyung blinked at the sight before him, towel draped around his neck.

Jiho was still nestled against Jungkook's chest, his tiny breaths even and peaceful.

And Jungkook—who had looked so panicked before—was now sitting completely still, as if moving would wake Jiho.

A small smile tugged at Taehyung's lips.

"Looks like he likes you," he murmured, walking over.

Jungkook snapped his head up. His ears turned slightly red, but he scowled.

"He just got comfortable," Jungkook muttered. "That's all."

Taehyung chuckled, kneeling down in front of him. "That's not 'just all.' Jiho only sleeps when he feels safe."

Jungkook's breath hitched.

Taehyung reached out, carefully scooping Jiho from Jungkook's arms.

The warmth instantly disappeared.

Jungkook clenched his jaw, ignoring the strange emptiness in his chest.

Taehyung stood, Jiho cradled easily against him. His robe had slipped slightly off his shoulder, revealing more of his soft skin.

Jungkook looked away.

"Thank you for watching him," Taehyung said softly.

Jungkook didn't answer.

Taehyung tilted his head. "You're good with him, you know."

Jungkook snorted. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

Taehyung smiled. "That doesn't matter. He trusts you."

Jungkook swallowed, but didn't respond.

Trust.

That was a dangerous thing.

Because trust could be broken.

And Jungkook wasn't sure if he was someone who should be trusted.

But looking at Taehyung, holding Jiho with so much love, so much warmth—

Jungkook wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe...

He could stay.

For now.