Stuck With You [Taekook ff]

42 | You Just Got Yerin-ed

∗⋅◈⋅∗

"This is stupid as fuck," Yoongi shouted, his voice cracking through the tension-filled room like a whip. His eyes were wild with frustration, angled like an angry cat, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "You've just learned that your husband—boyfriend—whatever the hell he is, was nearly killed in a house explosion. People are actively hunting you both down. And instead of getting out of the country like any sane person would, you want to stick around for Jimin's wedding? This is insane!"

Taehyung leaned back against the wall, arms crossed defensively over his chest. He knew how absurd it sounded, but Jimin was more than just a friend—he was family. And Taehyung had promised, swore, that he wouldn't miss the big day. After the wedding, and before their Mediterranean trip, he and Jungkook had already made plans to go somewhere else—somewhere they believed might hold important answers. A place that could reveal who was hunting them, and more importantly, why.

"Don't argue with him," Joon's calm voice cut through the tension, his eyes scanning the room with Federal Bureau intelligence precision. "I think this place is secure—for now, at least."

Jin leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, clearly disagreeing but keeping his thoughts to himself. There was little choice. They had to make do.

The group had found a small Airbnb on Canal Street in the heart of Chinatown. The bustling street outside was alive with the constant hum of traffic with horns blowing, the sharp scent of food vendors wafting up from the sidewalks, and the neon glow of shop signs.

The apartment, tucked above a small, inconspicuous café, was a familiar refuge for Jungkook, who often frequented the busy café when he needed to disappear into the crowd. The café served incredible food too, which wasn't a bad bonus. Right across the street stood H-Mart, its windows gleaming under the fluorescent lights, stocked with essentials if they needed anything last-minute.

Joon, Jin, and Yoongi helped get Jungkook and Taehyung settled, making sure they had everything they needed before they had to say their goodbyes. Taehyung reminded them to get Jimin to fill out Taehyung's Family and Medical Leave Act paperwork so he could be off work without getting fired. If that didn't work, Jimin would need to put in vacation days for him.

The older trio had a flight to catch back to Washington, and the weight of their departure hung heavy on Namjoon. Jungkook offered another quiet but heartfelt thanks as they left, the door closing behind them with an unsettling finality.

The apartment itself was modest but charming, located on the fifth floor of an old building that looked as if it had stood there for decades, watching the city grow and change around it. The narrow staircases creaked beneath their feet, the wood worn from years of footsteps. Inside, the space was compact but not suffocating. The modern furnishings contrasted with traditional Asian-inspired artwork, intricate scrolls, and vivid tapestries that adorned the walls. The kitchenette, though small, was stocked with everything they'd need, thanks to Jin, and the king-sized bed in the bedroom looked like a cloud—an oasis of comfort amidst the chaos. The ensuite bathroom continued the minimalist aesthetic, with sleek tiles and soft lighting.

The rental looked like a perfect place to relax if that were possible.

Before Jungkook could say much more about what he remembered from the blast, but he was focused on one thing.

"I need to shower," Jungkook muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. "Jungkook, you're covered in cuts. The water and soap will sting like hell."

Jungkook ran a hand through his soot-covered hair, his expression one of pure discomfort. "I feel disgusting, Taehyung. There's still grime on me from the explosion. I can't sleep like this. I need to feel clean."