A Taste Of Midnight

41

Namjoon sat alone in his office, the faint hum of the city beyond his window the only sound filling the silence. The day's work lay in neatly stacked piles before him, reports he'd have typically tackled with his characteristic efficiency. Yet today, he found himself unable to concentrate. His mind drifted, as it had been for days, to thoughts of Seokjin—and now, unexpectedly, Jungkook.

The recent meeting between the three of them had left Namjoon with a strange, restless feeling. He couldn't quite explain it; he'd known Seokjin for years, had been his closest confidant, and had long since come to terms with the roles they played in each other's lives. But something had shifted, something that unsettled him deeply.

Namjoon leaned back, his gaze unfocused as he looked out over the cityscape, his thoughts circling around the memory of Seokjin's expression when he mentioned Jungkook. There was a softness in his eyes that Namjoon had rarely seen—a vulnerability that Seokjin usually kept hidden, even from him. And when Seokjin had revealed that Jungkook would be the one feeding him now, a strange pang had settled in Namjoon's chest, unexpected and unwelcome.

He sighed, running a hand over his face. He had always known that his attachment to Seokjin was complicated. For years, he had been more than just an employee; he was Seokjin's confidant, his partner in managing Kim Heritage Corp., and, occasionally, his blood donor. Though they had maintained a clear professional boundary, Namjoon couldn't deny the depth of his admiration for Seokjin—a quiet devotion that had grown over time, whether he liked it or not.

But Jungkook... he hadn't expected Jungkook to stir things up like this.

Namjoon closed his eyes, recalling the first time he had offered his blood to Seokjin. He'd felt a strange pride, a sense of honor in being trusted with something so personal. It was an unspoken bond, a rare glimpse into Seokjin's world, where he usually kept others at arm's length. Over time, he'd become accustomed to this arrangement, quietly valuing the trust Seokjin placed in him.

Yet now, with Jungkook stepping into that role, Namjoon couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he'd been replaced in a way that went beyond practicality. It wasn't just about the blood appointments—it was something deeper, something that whispered of an intimacy he couldn't quite name.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and Namjoon quickly straightened, his professional mask slipping back into place.

"Yes?"

His secretary stepped in, holding a tablet with the day's schedule. "Mr. Kim, you have a call scheduled with the Seoul office at three, and the board meeting has been confirmed for next Friday."

Namjoon nodded, barely listening. "Thank you. I'll handle it."

As the door closed, he found himself staring down at the tablet, the words blurring as his mind drifted once more. A quiet ache settled in his chest as he thought of Seokjin and Jungkook, the closeness they were developing. The rational part of him knew he had no claim over Seokjin—knew that whatever his feelings were, they would remain one-sided. But the thought of Seokjin sharing that part of himself with someone else, someone so different from him, stirred a feeling Namjoon hadn't anticipated.

"Jungkook," he murmured to himself, a trace of bitterness lacing his voice.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the feeling, but it lingered. Jungkook was young, ambitious, and full of life—a stark contrast to the immortal, carefully guarded existence Seokjin led. Perhaps that was why Seokjin was drawn to him, why he'd let Jungkook in where others had been kept at a distance. Seokjin's life was a tapestry of shadows and restraint, and maybe Jungkook was the light that pierced through it, something Namjoon, as much as he cared for Seokjin, could never offer.