Stuck With You [Taekook ff]

63 | Like Their Own

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Taehyung sat on the edge of the bed in the small Airbnb, the next morning, his fingers absently trailing over the edge of the blanket. It had barely been almost a full day since the fire on Park Avenue, but it felt like a lifetime had passed since then.

He was reluctantly trying to get out of bed. Sleeping longer would've been a dream come true. But he had to get up to arrange for him and Jungkook to get home.

Home. Is that what they were calling it? Was Jungkook going to go home with him? Surely, after they confessed love for each other the night before, Jungkook would want to go back to D.C. with him. Right?

Shit.

Maybe Taehyung should ask Jungkook what he wanted to do before making travel plans. With his mind made up to speak to Jungkook about leaving New York, he went to use the restroom.

Still in bed, Jungkook, unbeknownst to Taehyung, had been awake for a few minutes, and stared out the window, his jaw tight. His eyes were shadowed, the weight of the nightmare he'd just had about his parents' brutal murder hanging over him like a dark cloud. He expected to turn on the New York news and see the story plastered all over the networks, reporters speculating and replaying footage of the FBI raid that had finally rounded up the killers. No amount of justice could undo the bloodshed, and no arrests could bring back Lars and Sophie Crass.

He decided to turn on the local news. Jungkook – Justin Crass, as the media kept calling him – hadn't spoken much since he'd learned the news. At least that's what they were reporting.

Jungkook had had a wonderful night with the guy who had professed his love for him. Instead of basking in the afterglow of a night of confessions and great sex, he had his deceased parents on his mind. He relived the event all over again. His adoptive parents, the people who had taken him in and raised him, were dead. Murdered in cold blood. The weight of it was crushing, but it was compounded by the fact that the killers had been after Jungkook, or rather, Justin. The name felt foreign now, like an ill-fitting suit Jungkook had long since outgrown.

"Justin Crass, the adopted son of Lars and Sophie Crass, targeted in a vicious plot—"

Taehyung returned to the bedroom and turned off the TV with a sharp press of the button. The quiet between them swelled as the voices of the reporters cut out, leaving only the sound of the city outside. Koreatown was full of bustling energy.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, breaking the silence. "I wish they'd stop calling me that," he said quietly, his voice thick with a mix of anger and grief.

Taehyung reached for his hand, squeezing gently. "Look at it this way. You can be whoever you want. Call yourself Jungkook. Or go back to using Justin. It's totally up to you," Taehyung encouraged him softly. "You're both Jeon Jungkook and Justin Crass to me. But most importantly, you're you. And you no longer have to hide it."

Jungkook turned to look at him, his dark eyes filled with conflict. He was leaning toward using his birth name, Jeon Jungkook. And it made him feel guilty. "But I was Justin," he barely whispered. "For them. They were my parents, Tae. I can't just...erase that."

Taehyung nodded, his heart aching for him. "I know. But you don't have to carry their name to carry them with you. Lars and Sophie—" His voice caught, and he had to swallow the lump in his throat. "They'll always be your parents. You don't need the name to prove that."

For a long moment, Jungkook didn't respond. He just stared at Taehyung, his gaze searching, as if trying to find an anchor in the storm. Finally, he nodded, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he murmured, squeezing Taehyung's hand back.