To Be Held Like I Belong

He opened his eyes slowly, the lids heavy and swollen - the after-effect of everything that had spilled out yesterday.
But the first thing he noticed wasn't the soreness in his chest.
It was the warmth around his waist.

An arm.
Firm. Gentle. Familiar.

Jungkook.

He was sleeping next to him, face buried partly in the pillow, breathing steady like the world outside couldn't touch him here.
Taehyung didn't know when Jungkook entered the room, or when he himself fell asleep.
Only that he had woken up in the one place his heart didn't feel too heavy to breathe.

Taehyung shifted slightly - careful, slow - and brushed away the soft strands of hair falling over Jungkook's eyes.
His fingers hovered for a second, as if unsure they were allowed to touch something so precious.

But then he did.
Gentle. Lingering. Like a whisper.

Jungkook didn't wake - just exhaled, his hold tightening instinctively, pulling Taehyung a little closer in sleep, as if his body knew before his mind did:

Don't go.

Taehyung's chest ached - not painfully, but in the soft, overflowing way love sometimes does.
He looked at Jungkook, really looked - the curve of his lashes, the relaxed line of his jaw, the quiet peace he rarely let the world see.

A small, wavering smile formed on Taehyung's lips.

Tae (whisper, barely a breath):
"...I'm okay. Because you stayed."

He let his fingers rest lightly against Jungkook's cheek - warm skin against warm skin.
No rush.
No loudness.
Just presence.

Just them.