Call me HYUNG!

Tiger and Lily

Jungkook's heart shattered the day Taehyung chose to spend his birthday with his lover instead of him. It was a day that had always been theirs—a tradition, a promise they had kept since they were little. Every year, they would spend the entire day together, just the two of them, celebrating with laughter, cake, and the kind of joy that only best friends could share. But this year was different.

They still spent some time together, but it wasn’t the same. Jungkook could sense Taehyung’s excitement, the way he kept glancing at the clock, waiting for the moment he could leave and meet his boyfriend. When Taehyung finally stood up, saying he had to go, that he had plans, Jungkook felt his chest tighten. He forced a smile, his heart clenching as Taehyung hugged him goodbye, then watched him walk away, leaving him alone on the one day that had always been theirs.

Jungkook sat there in silence, the remnants of the cake they’d barely touched staring back at him. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, tried to tell himself it didn’t matter, that he was happy for Taehyung, but the ache in his heart told a different story. This was the first time in years that Taehyung hadn’t spent his birthday with him, and it hurt more than anything. The realization that things were truly changing between them, that he was no longer Taehyung’s priority, made his chest feel heavy, like he was being crushed under the weight of his own emotions.

As the days passed, the pain didn’t go away. If anything, it only grew stronger, more unbearable, and it began to take a toll on Jungkook. The once soft, bubbly boy who was always full of energy and life was slowly fading away. The change was subtle at first—a little less laughter, a little less enthusiasm—but soon it became more apparent.

Jungkook started losing weight. The stress, the heartache, it all began to eat away at him, draining him of the energy he used to have. He found himself skipping meals, not because he wanted to, but because he simply didn’t have the appetite. Food tasted like ash in his mouth, and the thought of eating made him feel sick. But as the days turned into weeks, his parents began to notice the change in him. They asked him if he was okay, their worry evident in their eyes, and that was when Jungkook knew he had to do something.

He couldn’t bear the thought of causing his parents more worry, so he forced himself to eat. Even when he didn’t want to, even when every bite felt like a chore, he made himself finish his meals. He couldn’t let his pain hurt them too; he had to keep up the appearance that everything was fine, even if it wasn’t.

But the pain inside him needed an outlet. The emotions he was bottling up—the anger, the sadness, the frustration—were too much to keep inside. He needed a way to release them, to stop himself from drowning in the heartache that was consuming him. That was when he found boxing.

It started as a way to let out his frustrations, a way to hit something, anything, instead of letting his emotions eat him alive. The first time he stepped into the gym, the smell of sweat and leather filled his senses, and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe again. The heavy bag became his confidant, the gloves his shield. Every punch was a release, every jab a way to vent the pain that had been building up inside him for so long.

Boxing became an obsession, a way for Jungkook to regain control over something in his life. When he was in the gym, when he was throwing punches, it was like the rest of the world didn’t exist. There was no Taehyung, no heartache, no rejection. There was only the sound of his fists connecting with the bag, the burn in his muscles, and the steady rhythm of his breath.

With each session, Jungkook pushed himself harder, trying to outlast the pain in his heart. He trained until his muscles ached, until sweat dripped down his face, until he was too exhausted to think about anything other than the next punch. Boxing was brutal, unforgiving, but it was exactly what he needed. It was a way to channel his emotions, to focus his pain into something tangible, something he could control.

But even as he threw himself into training, even as he felt his body grow stronger, the ache in his heart didn’t go away. The more he tried to fight it, the deeper it seemed to dig into him. He couldn’t escape it—Taehyung was still in his thoughts, in his dreams, in every part of his life that mattered. No matter how much he tried to forget, no matter how hard he hit the bag, Taehyung was always there, a constant reminder of the love he couldn’t have.

And yet, Jungkook kept going. He kept training, kept pushing himself to the limit, because it was the only thing that made him feel alive, the only thing that kept him from falling apart completely. Boxing became his refuge, his escape, and even though it couldn’t heal the pain in his heart, it was enough to keep him going, enough to keep him from losing himself completely in the process.The transformation in Jungkook's appearance was undeniable. The once soft and bubbly boy was now buff and muscular, the result of countless hours spent boxing. His shoulders broadened, his arms toned, and his once cherubic face was now framed by a jawline that had sharpened with time and effort. The changes were noticeable to everyone around him, but especially to Jungkook himself. He no longer recognized the boy who used to follow Taehyung around like a shadow, always eager for his attention, always craving his presence. That boy was gone, replaced by someone stronger, someone who had learned to hide his emotions behind a tough exterior.

As for Taehyung, he hadn’t changed much in appearance. He was still as pretty as ever, like a petal from a beautiful flower, delicate and ethereal. But his life had grown more hectic. It was his last year in school, and the demands on his time had increased. College applications, exams, and extracurricular activities took up most of his schedule. Yet, Taehyung always made an effort to carve out time for Jungkook, even if it was just for a few minutes between classes or a quick lunch together.

Jungkook understood. He knew Taehyung was busy, that he had responsibilities and a future to think about. He appreciated the moments they did share, even if they were brief, even if they were nowhere near enough to fill the void that had grown inside him. But he never let Taehyung see how much it hurt, how much he still longed for the days when they were inseparable, when Taehyung’s attention wasn’t divided between him and a hundred other things.

Instead, Jungkook poured everything into his boxing. Every time he felt that pang of loneliness, that sharp twist of unrequited love, he would head to the gym and take it out on the bag. His knuckles often bled from the force of his punches, the skin split and raw, but he didn’t care. It was a pain he could manage, something physical to distract him from the ache in his heart. And besides, it was no big deal—nothing Taehyung needed to worry about, right?

So when Taehyung asked him how he was doing, Jungkook would flash his signature bunny smile and tell him everything was fine. He’d laugh, crack a joke, make Taehyung smile in return, all the while hiding the truth behind a mask he had perfected over the years. Taehyung never noticed the bruises on his knuckles, the way Jungkook winced when he moved his hands too quickly. He didn’t see the exhaustion in Jungkook’s eyes, the weariness that came from carrying the weight of his feelings alone.

For Taehyung, Jungkook was still his little Koo, his best friend, the person he could always count on for a good time. But for Jungkook, each moment spent with Taehyung was a mix of joy and agony, a reminder of what he could never have. And though it hurt, though it left him feeling more broken with each passing day, he wouldn’t let go. Because even if it was painful, even if it meant bleeding knuckles and a heart that felt like it was constantly being torn apart, Jungkook knew he couldn’t walk away from Taehyung. Not now. Not ever.

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He loves him way too much to walk away.