Jungkook adjusted the collar of his polo tee as he traipsed lightly down the flight of marble steps to the front door. He had only pulled on a knitted vest over the polo tee right at the moment the doorbell rang below. Since he had been on his way out of his room to his study, he decided that he might as well answer it.

He was nearly at the foot of the stairs when he saw his butler, Henry, who had been with him for as long as he could remember, making his way to the door.

“It’s okay, Henry,” he called out from where he was still descending the stairs. “I’ll get it.”Stopping and smiling at his young master, knowing that there was no use in trying to argue against it, Henry replied with a slight bow, “I will see to dinner then, Master Jeon.”

Jungkook briskly made his way to the door, frowning as he went, “Henry, how many times must I tell you to call me ‘Jungkook’?

“I do not allow myself such improprieties, sir,” Henry said.

Even without looking, Jungkook could see the smile on Henry’s face just from the tone of his voice.

This was the man who had been with him since he was old enough to live in the Jeon second mansion. As much as Jungkook was all the relation he had contact with, for some reason, the elder Jeon couldn’t stand having the boy around. As a result, Jungkook  was pretty much his own man in his own estate, (though he did not technically own it), from the time in his life that he  could remember.Henry was his own companion, always there even as servants come and go, having their own lives to lead. Henry and Portia (the cook to be exact. Only Jungkook wasn’t much of an eater, so he was not entirely close to the latter).

Henry always knew how to deal with Jungkook, always knew when the young man needed his presence and when he needed to be alone. Often at times, Jungkook felt Henry could read him like an open book no matter how much he tried to hide himself behind a stone cold façade. Sometimes, that frustrated Jungkook, but others, it relieved him—made him thankful.

Jungkook grunted out a characteristic, “Hmmm” which Henry managed to interpret perfectly and smiled at his master’s back as it stopped at the door.

The door swung back at Jungkook’s easy ministrations and the young man almost reeled back when he saw who it was standing at his door step Friday evening.Jungkook was not ready to deal with him yet, not after what he had done to his senses, emotions and anatomy just earlier that day after the deal with Kai.

Yet, there was Kim Taehyung, standing at the top of the marble steps of the lavish Jeon second mansion, dressed not in his school uniform, but a long-sleeved shirt that was far too short for him, since it exposed just a LITTLE line of flesh right over the top of his dark, slim jeans—just enough to make anyone distracted.

Jungkook’s first thoughts of the matter strangely, was not on what he was supposed to do now that Taehyung was standing at his door smiling up at him like that with hands behind his back, rather at how many people must have leered at Taehyung when the younger man was on his way to the mansion.(When did Taehyung start to dress so fashionable in the first place? ) He wondered with growing panic.

“Taehyung!” Jungkook was unable to keep the shock out of his voice as he tried to say the other’s name. Much to Jungkook’s growing mortification, he sensed Henry peering at Taehyung over his shoulder with growing curiosity.

Jungkook drew a deep breath, which he prayed was subtle enough for Henry not to notice. Not a chance, Henry looked at him right at the moment and he swore his mode dedicated servant was connecting some dots in his head.

“Taehyung, what are you doing here?” Jungkook demanded, a little too hastily.

“What a way to treat a visitor!” Taehyung teased, leaning forward, far too close to Jungkook for the latter to take it calmly. “May I come in?”

That smile and that tone were too teasing, in all the wrong ways, Jungkook realized. He could not trust himself to speak, not when his focus kept returning to how beautiful Taehyung looked right there and then.

Sure, Baekhyun wore worse stuff than that, but this was Taehyung! His old school mate, his playground fighter buddy when they were kids…the kid who was stupid enough to make Jungkook a REAL mudpie?

Henry, sensing with bemusement his master’s sudden discomfort, saved Jungkook from speaking.

“The young master rarely has visitors and never knew how to entertain them,” he said, stepping up beside Jungkook to hold the door open for the orange haired boy to enter. “Usually, we only get salesmen.”

Taehyung walked into the mansion as he looked up at the butler and replied, “You get those too? We get a lot of them back home! Good thing we have Jackson to get rid of those persistent ones.”

“Jackson?” Henry asked, looking down  deeply interested at the mention of the name.

Taehyung laughed and replied, “Yeah. He’s my little brother.”

Henry looked down that orange haired boy and noted immediately how different he was from his young master. The young man that had just arrived had a way of drawing people to him with smiles that touched those chocolate eyes, and making them feel right at ease with his easy chatter. It had not escaped Henry how the visitor had been so comfortable with his young master from the beginning. Surely, he was not someone Jungkook had met recently , from that sudden look of the usually calm, almost cold manner of speech, to that furious blush he was trying to hide by standing in the shadows. Surely, this young man meant more to Master Jungkook than just a mere friend.

Bending a little to look at the young man closer, Henry mused, rubbing his jaw, “You look familiar somehow…”

“I remember you!” Taehyung cried excitedly, jumping a little. “You’re Henry aren’t you? Jungkook’s butler? You have been around since always!” Extending a hand to the older man, Taehyung added, “I’m sorry. Let me introduce myself. I’m Kim Taehyung.” He gave a low bow.

Henry had been surprised at first at Taehyung knowing his name, but as the young man mentioned his full name, a grin broke out across his face as he took the hand offered.

“Mr. Kim! Why of course!” Henry cried, his eyes all crinkled up with his grin as he pumped Taehyung’s hand up and down in the air. “I remember you now! You are that rascal who always beat up Master Jungkook when he was a boy.”

“He didn’t always beat me up, Henry,” Jungkook spoke up from his corner in the shadows. “I beat him more times than he beat me.”

Taehyung, who had by this time had been released, threw a playful punch on Jungkook’s rigid arm and playfully said, “Yeah! You wish!”

They bicker a bit—Taehyung shouting things and Jungkook dishing out his words with little perceived emotion—while Henry watched unobtrusively by the side. Yes, this was the boy with whom Master Jungkook was always fighting with in the past, yet, Henry remembered that his young master enjoyed the trysts. They were something he actually looked forward to everyday. Yet to say that was anything aggressive was not entirely fair… for Master Jungkook still kept  all those birthday presents from the boy, still kept that plant in that particular pot of soil… It was not difficult to see how Master Jungkook was currently looking at the young man, and he was hiding it badly took.

Perhaps, Master Jungkook was seeking something else, something he was afraid to seek, something he didn’t even know he was seeking in the first place, in this young orange haired man.

Henry allowed himself a smile before saying, “Perhaps the sitting room is a better place to have your conversation, Master Jungkook”

“A sitting room? For him?” Jungkook said, indicating Taehyung with a jerk of his head and a smirk.

“You have a sitting room? Does it have a television?” Taehyung asked, suddenly excited.

“No, the television would be in the recreation room, Taehyung,” Jungkook replied, as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants and started to walk away from the door.

Taehyung pouted and frowned, trotting to catch up with Jungkook with Henry followed at an easy gait.

“What is the sitting room for then?”

“Just as its name says, genius,” Jungkook said, breathing out a smile. “To sit.”

They came to door which, upon Henry’s push, revealed the mansion’s sitting room; high ceiling and a collection of antique-looking plush chairs arranged around a polished round coffee table of the same antiquity. Taehyung gawked at the room, afraid to step, in case he tread dirt across the carpet.

Jungkook had already casually walked into the room when he realized that the orange haired boy was no longer by his side. Stopping, he turned with his hands still his pockets, and saw Taehyung still by the door beside Henry, taking in his surroundings with the same open-mouthed reverence of a child in a newfangled toy store.

The image of Taehyung like that--- admiring his simple sitting room---struck something in Jungkook, made him look as well and made him SEE that room for the first time…Jungkook saw then, his privilege, his wealth. 

This room was lavish compared to what Taehyung had been used it. It was probably as big as Taehyung’s living room and the kitchen put together. Jungkook looked back at Taehyung and though if he was going to ask—

“Hey Jungkook! What does your bathroom look like?”

--what his bathroom looked like.

Jungkook could not keep down the light chuckle, a sound that took even Henry by surprise.

“You’re so predictable, Tae,” he said, smirking. “I knew you were going to ask that. Shall I give you a guided tour?”

Taehyung crossed his arms over his chest and stuck out a tongue at the black haired man before saying, “Hardy har har, Mister Jeon. Perhaps someday but that is not what I am here for today.”

Henry pushed lightly on Taehyung’s back and told the orange haired boy, “May I suggest that you actually enter and sit in Master Jungkook’s sitting room?”

Resisting the push, Taehyung looked up uncertainly at the butler before saying with the top of a finger resting on his lower lip, “Uh, I don’t think I ought to. The carpet looks so clean… I don’t know what I stepped onto on my way here.”

Jungkook thought that the uncertain gesture looked cute, too cute, but stopped himself in time to say sarcastically as he settled in a chair, “Well, you didn’t stink more than you usually do, so I can be assured you didn’t step into any sort of on your way here.”

Glaring at the master of the house, Taehyung strode into the room and following Jungkook’s lead, plunking himself into the chair right across from Jungkook.

Jungkook realized that Taehyung didn’t stink, not that the young man was always smelly or anything, but Taehyung smelled rather nice…

“Fancy sitting room,” Taehyung commented in awe. Turning to Jungkook he added with a teasing smile, “But shouldn’t you be playing the perfect host and offer me a drink?”

Jungkook smirked and leaned an elbow on the arm of the chair he was sitting on.

“I gotta admit, Taehyung, you are one tough customer. So what will it be? Tea? “

“English style, with milk, and sugar if you please,” Taehyung replied in the same teasing tone.

“Tea for the lady, Henry,” Jungkook called out to his butler, playfully using the term ‘lady.’

Henry was a little startled when Jungkook called out to him. He had been preoccupied with watching the banter that went on between the two. He had never seen Master Jungkook so…playful with anyone. Sure he did joke with his closest friends—Baekhyun, Chanyeol, Yoongi, Namjoon occasionally—but this, with the way the two were looking at each other, even as every word was spiced with mirth or the slightest aggression, had a flirtatious feel about.

Seeing Master Jungkook with his friends always made Henry feel happy, but seeing Master Jungkook with this young master with this young man made Henry feel…warm and glad, even if it seemed that his master not only swung that way but may not realize his feelings just yet. Neither of them did. Neither.

Smiling at the young master, Henry extended a small piece of card he had holding to Jungkook and replied, “Indeed sir, but dinner needs to be prepared and this is today’s dinner menu.”

Jungkook reached out and took the card from Henry. Glancing cursorily at it, he said, handing the card back, “The usual. Nothing sweet for my drink.”

Taehyung was gawking properly.

When the two occupants of the room turned to him, he blurted out in wonder, ”You have menus for dinner?”

“And what about you, young man?” Henry asked him in turn, the amusement never leaving his eyes. “What would you like for dinner?”

Taehyung blushed and ducked his head before murmuring, “I don’t want to intrude…”

“Kim Taehyung shy? Never thought I would see the day,” Jungkook snickered, though secretly, even if he would not admit it to himself relishing that expression.

“I don’t think I will stay long enough for dinner.”

“Call your parents and Jackson, tell them you will be having dinner here. Do you have a cell phone?” Even Jungkook was surprised at how spontaneously he had said that. Was he so eager to have the orange haired boy for dinner? Gathering his scattered self about him, he added hastily, “I had dinner at your place after all.”

Still Taehyung tried to argue—“I…” – only to have his words cut off by a resounding growl from his stomach. That settled it, Taehyung was to stay for dinner, convinced finally into doing so by Henry’s ardent insistence.

“The cook will be pleased,” Henry finished.

Taehyung hesitatingly took the menu and looked at it. He couldn’t understand almost everything that was written on the menu card. He glanced at Jungkook with the intention of seeking help, but seeing the smug look on Jungkook’s face, he stubbornly though against it.

Turning to Henry, he asked, “Um…anything with chicken?”

Henry pointed to an item on the card and explained to him patiently what exactly it was. Taehyung immediately ordered it. As he was about to hand the menu back to Henry, the butler asked whether he wanted any drinks or desserts to go with his meal. At the word dessert, Taehyung’s eyes lighted up.

“You mean like chocolate?”

“You like chocolate, Taehyung?” Henry queried in keen interest.

“He’s a garbage can, Henry,” Jungkook informed from his seat. “He eats anything.”

“I so am not,” Taehyung retorted heatedly, and then said to Henry,” But anything chocolate is certainly my favorite! What do you have?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes and watched as Taehyung went about an agonizing decision- making over which chocolate dessert to order. Jungkook leaned his cheek on a loose fist, elbow on the armrest and watched his butler explain desserts and made recommendations to the increasingly excited orange haired boy.

In that moment, Jungkook found himself drifting off, not something he was wont to do, and thinking of what it would be like to have Taehyung live in the mansion. He imagined running feet down normally silent hallways, and that voice filing in the hush that always materialized in the mansions. Taehyung would be able to appreciate Portia’s culinary skills better than he could. Taehyung would love all the chocolate desserts she had made for Jungkook in the bid to entice his bland appetite.

It was strange how he wanted to make Taehyung…happy. How he wanted to see that smile over and over again; that pout and that frown repeatedly; hear that voice, even if it was shouting at him every day.

He was getting a little annoyed, perhaps more at himself than at Taehyung’s inane fuss over chocolate desserts.

“Just ask Portia to prepare everything chocolate on the menu, Henry,” he said a little irritable

Henry smiled, nodded and briskly left the room. Downstairs, Henry announced grandly (and slyly) that Master Jungkook had a very important guest and called for the necessary preparations to be made—candlelight, the best silverware and china, no alcohol because he did not encourage drinking at such a young age—sending the mansion servants in a flurry of activity.

Portia gawked at the order for a good while before folding up her sleeves and bustling about the kitchen, determined to prepare everything to perfection. She was a weak woman for desserts and loved even more to prepare them. Not even Master Jungkook’s friends showed this much interest in chocolate desserts.

Back in the room, Taehyung turned to Jungkook and asked incredulously, “All the chocolate desserts? Isn’t that a bit too much?”

“Don’t tell me you would have it any other way?” Jungkook shot, leaning back into his chair with a smirk.

Taehyung rolled his eyes and proceeded to stare down at the pile of stipulated papers on his lap. The gesture turned to Jungkook’s attention to the papers and it brought him back to the ever present question of the reason behind Taehyung’s visit.

“Why are you here, Taehyung?”

Taehyung peered back up and blinked.

“If I tell you that I came here to visit an old friend would you believe me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, not once taking his cheek from his hand.

His companion went on, “I am here to visit an old friend.”

“Taehyung…” Jungkook said warningly.

“And I have a favor to ask.”

Jungkook felt something inside him sink a little.

“But what I said earlier about wanting to see you is not a lie.”

“Taehyung…”he said again, narrowing his eyes.

“Now, Mister Jeon, would you like to get good credits for Literature class without having to toil through essays and research work?” Taehyung asked, making it sound like a sales pitch.

“What are you saying, Kim?”

Taehyung leaned back in his chair with an air of business-like professionalism. He was already quite an actor.

“You could involve yourself in the drama production,” he suggested.Jungkook emanated a sound that sounded like a snort and a laugh.

“You want me to act? Play the part of a silent guard in the background maybe? No way, Taehyung. Acting is not my thing.”

“And what is? Being all mister I’m-too-cool – to-be-involved- in-anything? Just being the cold rebel in school that everybody stays well away from?”

“Is this going to become an argument, Kim?”

“Do you want it to be, Jeon?”

Jungkook massaged his temple and sighed. He hated losing to this guy, not even in simple bickering, but he was in no mood for this. Taehyung, he admitted, had a way of pulling him away from gloomy quagmire only to send him tumbling into some inferno instead. Taehyung, he did not want to admit, could pull him in all strange directions, and churn his well-groomed emotions until he could not make out heads and tails of it.

“Could you help me with my lines?” he heard Taehyung ask quietly and perhaps a little uncertainly.

Jungkook looked up and stared at his companion. Taehyung was not looking at him. He had his eyes cast down on the papers in his lap, his bangs hiding whatever expression he might be harboring.

“Help you…how?” Jungkook asked in return, puzzled by it all.

He saw Taehyung’s shoulders heave and then Taehyung lifted his head. “I have to memorize my lines for the play,” He explained, his expression serious. “Sure I have rehearsals, but I need to have my lines memorized even as I rehearse. There are so many acts. It could be helpful to have someone read the other parts while I read Juliet’s.”

It took a while for Jungkook to register it all.

“I’m sure there are so many guys who are more willing to help, to…” Jungkook’s voice trailed off. He wanted to say, “to be with you,” but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was like admitting a gross fact he himself did not want to know. Instead he finished with, “to get extra credits.”

Taehyung laughed.

“Yeah, a lot of them actually came up to me to volunteer their assistance.” Jungkook was not aware of how he sat straighter at that.

“Even Sehun came up to me,” Taehyung chattered on. “Imagine that! And to think generations of his family own the school and all.”

Sehun and Jungkook could not care less for each other. In terms of status they were probably on par, but when it came to bearing, Sehun seemed to see Jungkook as some sort of miscreant, a dishonor to a noble family name.

They normally ignored each other, save for the occasional smirk from Jungkook when Baekhyun and Chanyeol took a dig at Sehun and his aristocratic group. Sehun just usually stepped over it all and went regally on his way. Right then, Jungkook thought that perhaps he actually disliked the guy most sorely.

“But I told all of them that I was fine by myself,” Taehyung’s voice was a little softer at this, drawing Jungkook’s attention to it.

The questions must have already shown on Jungkook’s face because Taehyung quickly lowered he gaze and said, “Cause I wanted to…well…”

Somewhere in the back of Jungkook’s head, in the depths of his mind, he must have wanted to hear Taehyung finish that sentence with what he hoped it would be. Taehyung kept his eyes on the papers on his lap as he scratched at the back of his head; a thing he liked to do, Jungkook noticed, when he was feeling nervous or unsure.

“I thought I could help you get the credits,” Taehyung said finally, and Jungkook’s breath came out in a strange whoosh, like a deflating balloon, too subtle for Taehyung to pick up. He perked up though when he heard Taehyung add,” And I thought it was a good way to spend time with you, you know…almost like old times, only without the normal bruises.”

A pregnant silence followed as Taehyung continued to look at the papers, keeping his eyes firmly down, and as Jungkook stared at the top of the young man’s head.Jungkook sensed that Taehyung was feeling uncomfortable and the situation could potentially get awkward. In a bid to lighten up the mood, he finally said, “I’m surprised my nose is still straight now.”

Taehyung’s head whipped up.

“Does that mean…”

“When do we start?”

A grin broke on Taehyung’s face and he wasted no time in snatching up the papers and stretching them out to Jungkook.

“As soon as possible,” he replied, still grinning.

Jungkook took the papers and saw that they were pages of a script.

“Couldn’t you at least staple them properly for me?” he demanded, staring down at the papers already starting to come loose

Taehyung laughed.

“I tried, but they were too thick.”

“Then divide them into Acts or something!”

They did not have time at all because the tea arrived and Jungkook skimmed the script while Taehyung chattered about what he wanted Jungkook to do. Jungkook listened intently to this chatter, his eyes only skimming most cursorily over the words on the script as he sipped his tea. It did not take much to know that Taehyung was excited about his part in the play. It was never hard to know that Taehyung was excited. He had always been forward that way.

When Henry came with the tea, Taehyung easily got the elder man to sit down with him. Taehyung never had any problem with people and he made friends easily, which was more that could be said for Jungkook. He was someone who could just bind up to people and smile, and have them talk to him immediately.

Taehyung was different.

Jungkook could imagine him extending a helping hand to the foulest of traitors without batting an eyelid should that traitorous person need it. Jungkook wondered if Taehyung had not taught him certain things in the past. Would he even have been with Baekhyun, Chanyeol, Yoongi, and Namjoon if Taehyung had not shown him that having friends were not at all a bad thing? He didn’t think so.

A maid came to announce and Henry wasted no time leading them to the dining hall.

Jungkook knew Henry had a hand in the dinner preparations the moment he stepped into the vast dining hall. Usually any meal for Jungkook was a solitary affair, his loneliness only further accentuated by the vastness of the long table at which head he sat alone. The ceiling was so high, the mansion being old and all, that every clink of silverware on plate seemed to echo. He always ate fast, barely tasting his food.

Eating alone, there was no need for much lighting. Just one of the modern overhead light would do. Right then, the whole length of the dining table was lit by numerous candles, held in their individual places in the antique candelabras. The table was set for two, right in the center of the table’s length and the food was laid, still steaming hot in their gleaming serving plates. Jungkook was glad that at least Henry had saved him some amount of mortification by not having one of the servants play the violin…or worse have a quartet perform for their dinner!

Taehyung was beyond himself with excitement. He practically ran into the dining hall, spinning with his arms outstretched at his sides as he exclaimed the ceiling and the walls, these being painted with exquisite murals.

“It is like Michelangelo’s murals in the Sistine Chapel!” Taehyung cried out, staring at the paintings in awe.

Jungkook followed his gaze as he sauntered into the hall, hands in the pockets of his 

slacks.

“It is a direct copy of the murals there,” Jungkook explained. “My great-great grandfather was quite a fan of Michelangelo’s murals anyway.

“Wow…but having it in your own house!” Taehyung interjected, looking finally at Taehyung.

Jungkook found himself starting to like the mansion. He had been living there almost all his life and all it had been was a cold, empty, scary place. Taehyung was making him look, really look at what he had…and he realized, the mansion had its surprises.

They finally settled down to dinner, amidst furtive stares from the servants, who simply could take their eyes off the visitor. The maids thought he was handsome; the male servants thought he was beautiful; thoughts that Master Jungkook quickly erased with a single piercing look.

Jungkook ate his food, mostly in silence. He was more than happy to listen to Taehyung prattle away about this and that, watch him sample dishes only to say over and over again how good they were. Jungkook himself had been forced to eat some of Taehyung’s share.

He had no choice because Taehyung simply cut some pieces and threw them down onto his own plate of utter blandness. Jungkook chewed and went on eating again without a word. He would not allow Taehyung the pleasure of knowing he liked the food…even the desserts, with Taehyung managed to shove into his mouth when his guard was down. He even surprised everyone when he obliged Taehyung’s whim of going into the kitchen to thank the cook personally. It was certainly something to see the stout Portia melt into goo at Taehyung’s praises.

It was with a little tinge of regret that he saw Taehyung to the door. The surprise visit had been…surprisingly pleasant. Taehyung turned back at the path to wave at Jungkook and Henry before running up to the waiting car ( for Jungkook had waited, as only Jungkook could insist, on having Taehyung sent home in a car with tinted windows) and climbing into it.

Henry waved until the car was out of sight, but Jungkook kept his arms folded firmly across his chest, allowing himself off the wall beside the door and walked into the house without a word.

Later, Henry found him sitting in his study reading the script Taehyung had given him at two in the morning.

Henry had lived in the Jeon second mansion for as long as he could remember. He was only a boy when he was the attendant of Jungkook’s grandmother, then still alive, still young and beautiful.

He may have been young, but he was old enough to remember that Jungkook’s grandfather had once been capable of love and had loved his wife, and the child they had, unconditionally. The child grew up a happy boy but when the boy was barely on the cusp of adulthood, the Jeon matriarch feel ill and it was not long after that she died.

Upon her death, Jungkook’s grandfather started to withdraw into himself but he still had some affection for his son left.

He watched the young man graduate from university and was there at his wedding, even visited when his son and daughter-in- law fist held a child in their arms. He was a proud grandfather, but he did have the chance to enjoy it long enough before his only son and daughter-in-law  met with a fatal accident on the way home from a dinner party.

 The Grandfather was already too far withdrawn into himself when the little bundle of life was into his care. He hired a wet nurse and left the boy in the care of Henry the butler, who was by then a grown man.

Henry was there to see Jungkook’s grandfather off at the door. The old man was making his way to the other Jeon mansion, which with his settling was made the Jeon first mansion. The baby was fretting and the wet nurse was trying in vain to soothe it. As if he knew that he had lost all hopes of normal, loving family, the baby bawled properly as the Grandfather strode down the steps to the waiting car.

Henry watched the old man leave. The old man never looked back once as he walked down that path.

The servants did all they could to make the boy as happy and comfortable as possible. He was thankfully not spoiled, but he rarely smiled.

Some things when severed are indeed really lost.

Henry always felt sorry for this boy, growing up with no one but people who were there only to serve him, a boy who had no notion of what a family really meant. Jeon Jungkook did his homework dutifully and spent his free time reading books, but never much else. He had no friends in school. Like his grandfather before him, he was utterly withdrawn.

Then in the second year of elementary school, he started returning home with bruises on his face. Yet, he smiled, more a roguish smirk than a smile, but a smile nevertheless. 

He was smiling! He would talk, animatedly and not with his usual mono-syllable utterances, about how he was going to beat this one boy next time round even as a cloth soaked in warm water was applied to his face by an alarmed maid.

Henry had been worried. He was even more worried when Jungkook’s grandfather came for visits. The teachers would be quick to inform the old man about Jungkook’s fights and for the first time ever, the old man actually looked at the boy, actually tried a hand at disciplining him with the cane.

The old man harangued constantly about how was he to expect to pass his business empire to such a miscreant. Still, Jungkook would go right back into the old fighting routine when his grandfather went back home.

The pot of soil appeared not long after, in which Jungkook, versed in the art of gardening, placed a seed and nurtured it into a plant. Little trinkets followed, in those globes that you got from coin toy dispensers. Henry had been shocked the first time little Jungkook approached him for help buying someone a present. That someone, young Jungkook had blushingly revealed, was someone called Kim Taehyung.

During those few years, Master Jungkook showed some bit of life, looked forward to something. He was not chatty but he was acknowledging the people around him. For the first time, the servants saw that Master Jungkook was seeing them, really seeing them and not a glance in passing, or gazing like those he always directed out of a window.

They had gotten used to it and the house was not somber anymore. Even the servants dared to speak and joke with one another. They sunk into it, accepting it, with much relief, as normality, until Master Jungkook started becoming withdrawn again.His concern led Henry to find out the boy was gone. Jungkook was only twelve, and he completed middle school the same way he started elementary school—sullen and silent.

Excellent grades place Jungkook in a prestigious high school, where the environment; the neat students, the competitive nature, everyone’s general snobbish-ness towards someone like him, someone with black hair and casual disregard for school rules; only served to make him colder.

Some of the life returned when he met Baekhyun, Chanyeol, Yoongi, and Namjoon, but once in the mansion, Master Jungkook was the way he used to be, barely speaking to anyone, barely  seeing anyone.

Therefore, it had not escaped Henry when Master Jungkook ree day with that little spark of life in his eyes again.

Henry walked down the corridor to Master Jungkook’s sitting room. He was still a distance away when the sound of laughter, growing more familiar by the day, floating down to where he had stopped in his tracks.

It was not Master Jungkook’s laughter. He was not one to laugh with so little restrain.Henry smiled and continued his way to the sitting room. The door was ajar but he did not enter. He took the liberty of peeking into the scene beyond it. The two young men had pushed the chairs away from the table a little and were seated on the lush carpet with their back leaning against them. Jungkook appeared entirely at ease even as he glared at Taehyung as the orange haired boy couldn’t seem to control the sudden peal of laughter that seized him.

“You know, Taehyung ,” Jungkook said exasperated.  “You are not making this easy for me.”

Taehyung tried his hardest to hold back his laughter by clamping his hand over his mouth. It took him a while before he was calm enough to speak.

“I can’t help it, Jungkook!” he explained. “You read with such a monotone! I can’t get into the mood.”

“Look, I am not the one who's supposed to take action, so why should I be serious about this?” Jungkook demanded, never lifting his glare from the orange haired boy’s face.

Taehyung returned his glare with a level, slightly bemused look and replied, “To help me?”

He lifted the script, turning it a few pages to the front and scanned it a while.

“Let’s start with the first scene in the first act.”

Jungkook frowned.

“But there isn’t any Juliet or Romeo in it,” He pointed out.

“The play is never about any one or two characters, Jungkook,” Taehyung explained patiently. “It is about everyone. The moment someone steps on stage, it is already the play. Knowing everyone’s parts in a play, even if it is not yours, is very, very crucial to the production. It helps you get a feel of everything and thus, helps you get into the right mindset for your part.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

“You sure know a lot,” he said, feeling impressed despite himself.Taehyung ducked his head and answered , “I did take part in a play in the city’s school.”

Jungkook blinked. Taehyung’s shyness always affected him in odd ways. He would get strange urges to do silly, irrational things, like ruffling Taehyung’s hair or leaning forward to ….do whatever it was that people do when they leaned their faces and bodies towards another person. Mentally shaking himself of such a scandalous thought, Jungkook returned to the script.

“Let’s get this over and done with, Taehyung,” he said coldly. “Act 1, Scene 1. You read the ‘Prologue’, I’ll be Sampson and you be Gregory. Got me?”

Taehyung stared at him a while, thinking how the commanding tone was becoming of Jungkook, before grinning.

Eventually, he chirped, “Aye! Aye! Captain!”

Jungkook muttered something that sounded like, “Idiot”, under his breath before turning his attention to the script and the sound of Taehyung’s voice reading the ‘Prologue’.

Henry on the other side of the door was reluctant to interrupt their little moment, but duty 

called for him to enter and announce dinner.

“Now, by her maiden-head, at twelve year old…” Jungkook stared down at the page and frowned. “Wait, Juliet’s twelve?”

Taehyung looked up from the script, to which they had promptly went back after dinner.

“Thirteen actually. Her father said that she had not yet seen fourteen summers,” he explained, seeing no cause for alarm in it.

“Fine, she’s only THIRTEEN, Taehyung,” Jungkook emphasized.

Taehyung appeared sheepish when his replied, “Yeah. I guess girls come of age earlier back in those days. I read somewhere that girls get married at ages as young as eight. In the actual story of Snow White, she was only seven when all those things happened to her.”

“Snow White was seven?” Jungkook found it far too hard to believe.

The orange haired boy smiled and suggested they got back to the script.

They kept at it for a few weekends. Romero had been pleased when Taehyung came up to him and told him about the part that Jungkook was playing in the production, which although was minor, was worthy of the credits. (Jungkook thought he sensed something sly about the way Romero was pleased.)

Taehyung was memorizing the lines perfectly; even the Drama Club veterans were impressed. Jungkook thought the orange haired boy was a natural at this. Sometimes, during their little rehearsals, he wondered what Taehyung would look like in a dress. A wondering he would be quick to dash from his head and focus on the script.

They did everything scene by scene; making sure Taehyung remembered all his parts before they moved on. Taehyung’s visits changed something about the Jeon household.The servants were always glad to see Taehyung, Henry was more cheerful than usual, Portia was always outdoing herself with the dinners on those few occasions where Taehyung was not going back to eat, and if he didn’t stay for dinner, Portia made sure he had something so unbearable sweet to bring home anyway. Jungkook…well, Jungkook could not say he dreaded the rehearsals. He was comfortable enough to bring Taehyung to his room, where they would sit side by side on the carpeted floor with their backs leaning against the bed, to rehearse.

Jungkook…Jungkook liked the way Taehyung always looked so languid, his legs splayed out before him as if there were no bones in them. Sometimes, Taehyung would lounge like a cat on his bed as they read the lines. Of course, Jungkook would never, EVER admit to anyone that he looked forward to having Taehyung over during the weekends.

Tybalt’s line was read: “Now seeming sweet, convert to bitterest gall” and with that Taehyung turned the paper over so that he would not see the parts he was to read on stage. Jungkook kept his eyes on the page, to make sure that Taehyung got it right. Besides, he was supposed to read his parts as Romeo too. They were already into act 1, scene 5, after Romeo and Juliet first met.

Jungkook read as Romeo:

“If I profane with my unworthiness hand

This holy shrine, the gentle sin in this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

Reading that line, Jungkook could not help but think what a cheesy sap Romeo was. 

However, when Taehyung read in his Juliet voice, Jungkook looked up, the way he always did, to the point of distraction sometimes, when Taehyung read his parts.

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much…”  read Taehyung.

From then, everything started to seem strange.Jungkook could have sworn that he heard singing, tiny fairy voices belting out  a little melody in the air, sprinkling some sort of shimmering dust on everything in the room. 

Jungkook did not realize he was reading Romeo’s lines without some snarky thought running through his head. Taehyung’s voice and his own drew him into a scene that was all at once alien and familiar to him, as if a secret wish was suddenly remembered, a hidden desire ignited. It all culminated in single line which Jungkook spoke with an ardent he did not know he possessed:

“Thus from thy lips, by thine, my sin is purged.”

Jungkook saw Taehyung’s face getting closer to his own, saw those eyes narrow and the head tilt a little. Or maybe, Jungkook was the one leaning in closer to Taehyung and having his head tilted. It was hard to tell. What was possible to tell was that their noses were going to fit well alongside each other and their lips, especially so. Their faces were so close then and it was only the distance of a centimeter that Jungkook had to cover before they would—

They both jumped away from each other at the same time. Jungkook saw that Taehyung’s eyes were wide and welling up with a frantic disbelieve that he discovered he wanted so badly to reach out and erase.

The desire to slap himself and rotate a knife in his own guts was overwhelming.

What was he about to do just now? And with Taehyung too! Jungkook could not think of what to say, as  shocked as Taehyung was about what had almost happened, what Jungkook had so naturally tried to do.or a while they both stared at each other, before Taehyung scratched the back of his head and ducked his head to look at the script once more. “Y…you don’t have to really kiss me, Jungkook. It’s only a dramatized reading.”

Jungkook turned away. “Yeah…you’re right. Now, let’s just get on to the next part.”

They dove back into their scripts with greater energy, trying their best to ignore what had just passes. Jungkook hoped that with the bustle of rehearsals in the studio, Taehyung would forget all about the incident.

Jungkook kept his face averted well away as he read:

“Sin from thy lips? Otrespass sweetly urged!

Give me my sin again.”

Taehyung did likewise with: “You kiss by the book.”

And so they went about it, the awkwardness and unasked question hanging thick like smog about them. At the end of the day, Taehyung took himself to the door as always and as always, Jungkook walked him down the stairs.

Both walked about two arm’s length of distance between their bodies and their conversation were about things which were severely mundane.

So the days went with Jungkook helping Taehyung memorize his script, keeping to the sitting room—the safe zone—doing their best to ignore what lie thick and musky in the air. However, it did not take long for the old familiarity to sink back again and they were old friends, Taehyung being all cheery and goofy, Jungkook being snarky remarks when he wasn’t simply acknowledging everything with a “Hmm”.

Sometimes, Jungkook’s friends and Taehyung’s as well would be there. (Jungkook never knew who really opened up the invitation but it just became more and more crowded after the time Baekhyun and Chanyeol invited themselves over to his house to find, much to their genuine surprise, Taehyung already there and looking very comfortable all curled up in slacks on Jungkook’s settee.)

Those times proved to be an immense riot, with everyone taking up a role and performing those parts with a finesse that would have made Shakespeare and the Lord Chamberlain’s men turn in their graves.

During those times, Jungkook always found himself wishing, without fail, that everyone would just leave.

He felt it and it was maddening to say the least. Both Taehyung and himself were referring to the script less and less, and soon there came the dreaded time where the sheets of paper lie in stipulated stack at their socked feet as they dramatized the parts verbally.

There was the dread and the unspoken reluctance for either one to say it’s over. After the last scene of their dramatized reading closed for the day, Jungkook and Taehyung found themselves sitting in that comfortable contentment, comfortable no matter how temporary, simply talking of all things inconsequential: Baekhyun’s new outfit which he’d bought for over a hundred dollars, Chanyeol’s hat , the death of Namjoon’s geraniums, Jimin’s new addiction to green tea flavored ice-cream, how Yoongi freaked out when the his laptop exploded right when he finished his song lyrics before he attempted to save it, Hosoek attempting to tutor a boy by the name of Jin in the art of dance, and it went on.

They were always conjuring, always inventing something new to say, something to keep them sitting just a little longer, until the remembrance of an imminent school day that followed or the buzz of a cell phone told them they had to end it for the day.

Taehyung always stood a second longer on the steps before turning around and running down the path, bound for home.

It was after on those “See ya in school, Jungkook!” goodbyes that Jungkook found himself standing in the middle of the sitting room staring down at the script he held in his hand, the reminders of Taehyung’s presence still not cleared from the table, a half-eaten cookie taking forlorn center-stage on a plate.

He didn’t know why, but he started reading:

“Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.”

Jungkook’s hand dropped to his side and the script along with it but he continued reciting the Chorus of Act I of the play solely from memory.

“From forth the fatal lions of these two foes”

As Jungkook read the words, they seemed to recede from him and he felt like he was watching the tail end of a train diminishing down a tunnel, where everything was just bright enough for him to see it all happen but not enough for him to find his way. 

Jungkook knew…

“A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life;”

…that it all had to stop somewhere. Taehyung was going to start on-stage rehearsals seriously very soon and the whole Drama Club was going to be busy with costumes, props and still more rehearsals.

Hadn’t Taehyung said that theatre wasn’t like a film where mistakes could be called for a cut by the director or edited out? Everything happened there and then on stage, in front of an audience. Performing such a popular play, everything needed to be perfect.

Jungkook recited the last line of the chorus and found he did not understand anything.

“So how about that, Tae?” Jin asked. “Still too tight?”

Jin was another member of the Drama Club. Because Jin was extremely good at making costumes and props, he was the club’s resident prop man, even if he wasn’t the best actor.

Jin had been excited about making a dress for Taehyung, a dress for a woman of class with all the embroidery and everything that went with dresses. It had been funny how Taehyung was extremely shy about stripping to his boxer shorts for his measurements to be taken but Jin had been professional about everything and managed to get enough data to declare that Taehyung had the built of a severely flat-chested girl. He marveled at how there was not a muscle to be seen, only sinews of body well-trained though not buffed.

Taehyung shook his head.

“Nope , that’s fine. At least I can breathe,” he said, placing a hand on his stomach. “Still, this is not something that I can wear on my own.”

“Wear it for all of your rehearsals from now and get used to speaking with it. You will need that for the stage,” Jin advised, giving Taehyung an appreciative once-over, winked at him through the mirror and then bustled about getting the dress that Taehyung was supposed to be fitting in.

In the meantime, Taehyung looked at himself in the mirror and for a moment believed that he really was a female. He had on a petticoat over which Jin had secured a corset in a chokehold around his torso. Pads were slipped under the petticoat to give the illusions of s and even Taehyung had to admire his newfound bosom, existent but realistically those of a girl still only thirteen.

He twisted and strained to look at his back in the mirror. He had a slight hourglass figure now, a figure forced into being quite literally by the corset. He had to admit that he was utterly sympathetic towards women of the past, considering how this was something they wore every day.

“Well at least I don’t have to wear bustles,” he murmured to himself, folding his hands together and dropping them to see just how girlish he could push his looks.

“Those are normally worn by women of nobility,” Jin put in, turning back to Taehyung with the dress on a hanger, covered by a plastic protector, as well as a box of pins.

“Isn’t Juliet noble?” asked Taehyung as he stilled himself once more in the front of the mirror.

“She is the daughter of a noble family, yes, but she is not exactly a woman of status. Now, Tae, let’s get you into this dress.”

As Taehyung was fitted into the dress, a pale al shroud with baby pearls sewn into the detailing at the chest region and a wide collar, he could not help think of an even he could not seem to quite forget. Perhaps because it hurt a little…maybe that was why it was so significant.

He had met Jungkook after their respective sports club activities to walk home the way that had become almost ritual. Jungkook was quiet. He didn’t say much most of the time, and if he did speak, it was usually in reply to what Taehyung was saying, sounding cruel or indifferent to most though not to the knowing orange haired boy.That day, Jungkook was particularly quiet; quiet in the way that indicated a preoccupation of the mind rather than a personalized sullen-ness.

So, Taehyung was caught off guard when Jungkook did speak eventually.

“What about your track team, Taehyung?”

“My track…oh,” Taehyung replied, recovering from his initial surprise. “What about it?”

“Isn’t it tough being in two Extra Curricular Activities?” Jungkook asked, looking straight ahead of him as he walked.

“I’m coping very well actually,” Taehyung said, lacing his fingers together behind his head. “Right now as junior, I will not be able to try out for Regulars in the track team anyway and the training is not as tough. They were in fact nice enough to give me leave from the track activities when the rehearsals start getting intense. The good thing about the team and the Drama Club is that the Art festivals begin way before the major races. So yeah…”

“You’re not too sure if you are going to be a regular in the Drama Club, aren’t you?” 

Jungkook said, giving his companion a quick sideways glance.

“Yeah. It was all so sudden, you know?”

Jungkook frowned out at the stretching road before him. “But if everyone likes you in that play, the club will want you as a regular.”

Jungkook though of hoots and catcalls from the audience, and did not think he liked it at all, but who was he to stop anyone who thought Taehyung was hot anyway?

“I don’t think Kai would want me to usurp his spot center stage,” said Taehyung with a laugh.

Jungkook thought then of how Kai came for Taehyung after class practically everyday, on the pretext of bringing news of rehearsals and production meetings. What was the bloody cell phone for, for God’s sake?

Jungkook had watched Kai sit beside Taehyung during lunch, leaning in too close, staring too fondly as the orange haired boy, completely unsuspecting, told a joke or laughed. No, from the looks of it, Kai was not vacating center stage. He was hell bent of standing there with a certain someone and he was pushing himself into every scene hat had Taehyung in it.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Tae,” Jungkook murmured, shoving his hands a little too violently into his blazer pockets.

“I will have to make a decision someday, I know.” Jungkook heard Taehyung sigh and turned to see the orange haired boy staring up at the peach sky. “But that will be later. Right now, in my junior year, I want to just experience as much as I can before I start to get all serious. What’s the point of doing something, being somewhere and not having fun while you’re there?”

Jungkook thought about it.

Perhaps Taehyung had a point, perhaps…but he wasn’t much of a…fun guy. Sure he dealt with Baekhyun’s jokes, sure he gave a snide remark or two, but he wasn’t one to do things for the mere fun of it.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol did all sorts of ridiculous things that seemed pointless to him, things he’d seen as a mere audience in the sidelines. Yoongi seemed to be in an eternal romantic comedy that had no end in sight. On top of that, he was also in an eternal love affair with his hair, and his sleep. All so inane, all such a waste of time to Jungkook. Namjoon spent his days writing lyrics, making raps beats. He said he liked it.

Jungkook thought back to his own little African violet back at home, where the soil for that plant was from and looked at Taehyung again.

Truth was, it was only with Taehyung that Jungkook did silly things that would mean nothing to anyone else.

As such he took a while to raise that dreaded question:

“Whn are rehearsals going to start proper, Taehyung?”

That broke Taehyung out of silent reverie that was a little uncharacteristic of the orange haired boy. “Wha--? Oh, you mean rehearsals for the play? It is starting next week. My evening would be burned all so will my weekends.”

“So I guess we don’t need to read the script at my house anymore.” It was a statement, not a question.

“But I will still want to hang out with you, Jungkook,” Taehyung told him, coming up to stand before Jungkook causing him to stop walking, before peering up eagerly into raging dark eyes.

“Yeah, we can…maybe dinner or homework or whatever…”

The younger boy knew how it must have sounded to Taehyung. It sounded like he didn’t want to spend time with Taehyung, like he wanted Taehyung to just leave.

He thought he saw Taehyung’s face fall.

“Whenever you’re free, Jungkook!” Taehyung chirped, perking up again. “I love Portia’s chocolates!”

Jungkook smirked at that. He had to, anything to keep the situation from spiraling down into an abyss of which bottom he could not fathom.

“Food,” he said. “Is that all you ever think about?”

Taehyung still peered up at him. His eyes appeared almost searching.

With a smile, Taehyung whirled around and continued walking, “Among other things, Jungkook. Among other things.”

“Tae? Taehyung? You hear me?”

“Huh? What?” Taehyung said, looking all about him.

“The dress,” Jin pointed out in the mirror. “What do you think?”

Taehyung looked up into the mirror and for a moment, he didn’t recognize himself.

The dress was lavish and beautiful. Clearly, Jin had invested a lot of effort into the dress. Taehyung didn’t look like himself. He looked like a girl for one thing. All he needed was longer hair and it would be perfect.

Strangely, he liked it. He twisted this way and that, eager to see how the dress looked from all angles. It was amazing how volatile a body could be, how easily gender was molded from one to another, how fluid everything was.

“I love it!” He cried.

Jin looked pleased at that and replied trustingly,” I spent the greatest amount of time on this dress.  I wanted you to look like you are meant to be in it.”

Taehyung turned to his reflection. In it he saw that he was all at once Taehyung and Juliet, her love far, far away and unreachable. Or perhaps it was his love that was far away and beyond reach.

It was hard to tell.

Everything was turning out to be a proper tragedy after all.

Jin had done a very, very good job.

A/N: Oh my gosh!!! You guys certainly know how to make a girl smile!! I just wanted to thank everyone who has subscribed and/or upvoted this story!! I can assure you I have been working my off on the upcoming chapters.....soooooooo there's more to come!!!!! Later, guys!!!! ^_^ HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE CHAPTER!!! Tell me what you guys thinked!!! :3