The dorm was quiet, save for the faint scratch of Jungkook’s pencil against the sketchpad. He sat cross-legged on the floor, brow furrowed in concentration, the dim glow of a desk lamp casting shadows over his sharp features. Taehyung sprawled on the couch behind him, chin propped on his hand, watching with a lazy grin.
“You’re gonna ruin your eyes staring at that all night,” Taehyung drawled, his deep voice cutting through the silence. He rolled onto his side, letting his head dangle off the edge, hair falling messily into his eyes. “What’s it even supposed to be?”
Jungkook didn’t look up, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “If you’d stop talking, maybe I’d finish it, hyung.”
Taehyung huffed, dramatic as ever, and slid off the couch to crawl over. He plopped down beside Jungkook, close enough that their shoulders brushed, and peered at the sketch. It was rough—lines of a face, broad strokes for hair, a familiar boxy smile starting to take shape. Taehyung’s grin faltered, replaced by a softer, curious look.
“Is that… me?” he asked, voice quieter now.
Jungkook’s pencil stilled. He glanced at Taehyung, then away, ears turning pink. “Maybe. Don’t get cocky about it.”
Taehyung laughed, low and warm, nudging Jungkook with his elbow. “Too late. I’m flattered, Kookie.” He leaned in closer, resting his chin on Jungkook’s shoulder to study the drawing. “You missed the mole on my lip, though.”
Jungkook froze, hyper-aware of Taehyung’s breath against his neck. “I—I didn’t miss it,” he stammered, flipping the pencil to erase a nonexistent mistake. “It’s just… not done yet.”
“Uh-huh.” Taehyung’s teasing tone was back, but his eyes lingered on Jungkook’s face instead of the paper. “Take your time, then. I’m not going anywhere.”
Jungkook swallowed, turning just enough to meet Taehyung’s gaze. For a second, the room felt too small, the air too thick. “Good,” he muttered, almost too soft to hear. “’Cause I might need you to stick around.”
Taehyung’s smile widened, slow and knowing. “Always will.”
