Jungkook was deep in concentration, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop. Spreadsheets filled with complex figures and encrypted documents glowed on the screen in his dimly lit office. The quiet hum of the air conditioning was the only sound, a welcome backdrop to his focused work.

Suddenly, a familiar, saccharine voice cut through the silence, making him wince. "Jungkook-ah, still working so hard?"

Jungkook's shoulders tensed. He didn't even need to look up to know who it was. The high-pitched tone, the overly sweet delivery—it could only be Yura. He let out a silent groan. He knew her intentions, and he had no interest in them. She had been persistently trying to get his attention for weeks now, and he found her presence utterly annoying.

He kept his eyes glued to the screen, pretending not to hear her. Maybe if he ignored her, she'd eventually take the hint and leave.

Yura, however, wasn't easily deterred. Her footsteps clicked closer, and he could feel her presence looming over his desk. "I brought you some coffee," she chirped, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Just how you like it. Black and strong, just like you."

Jungkook's jaw tightened. He still didn't look up, his fingers deliberately continuing to type. "I'm busy, Yura," he stated, his voice flat and devoid of any warmth. "I don't need coffee."

Jungkook finally paused his typing, leaning back in his chair. He ran a hand over his face, a deep, frustrated sigh escaping his lips. "First Taehyung, now this," he mumbled under his breath, audible only to himself. His mind flashed back to the chaotic cafe, Taehyung's unyielding gaze, and his own utterly bizarre, embarrassing actions. And now Yura, with her cloying sweetness, interrupting his work.

Yura, undeterred by his obvious annoyance, placed the coffee cup on his desk. "It's freshly brewed, Jungkook-ah. Just for you." She smiled, a forced, practiced gesture.

Jungkook finally looked up, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and irritation. He stared at the coffee, then at Yura. "Yura," he said, his voice flat, "I told you I'm busy. And I don't want coffee." He pushed the cup slightly away from him.

"But I thought—" Yura began, her smile faltering.

"You thought wrong," Jungkook cut her off, his patience wearing thin. He rubbed his temples. He just wanted to finish his work, not deal with persistent admirers or the lingering, mortifying memory of a certain strawberry milk-loving college student. The sheer exhaustion of dealing with unwanted people, one after another, was getting to him.

Yura's face fell slightly at Jungkook's curt dismissal, but then a sly glint entered her eyes. She knew Jungkook's habits, his preferences. She had a backup plan. She moved a little further into the office, revealing a small, insulated bag she'd been holding.

"I know you're busy," she said, her voice regaining its sweet tone, "and I know how much you appreciate a good meal, especially when you're working late." She unzipped the bag, and the rich, savory aroma of freshly prepared bulgogi filled the room, accompanied by the scent of warm rice and various side dishes. "I brought you your favorite bulgogi. I even made sure to get it from that little restaurant you like, the one near your old training ground. And," she added, setting a small container of perfectly sliced kimchi next to it, "I know you like extra kimchi."

Jungkook, who had been about to dismiss her again, paused. His nostrils flared almost imperceptibly as the delicious scent wafted over him. He found himself inhaling deeply, the aroma instantly cutting through his irritation. His stomach, which he hadn't realized was grumbling, gave a subtle protest.

He glanced at the spread, then at Yura, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He still looked annoyed, but the rigid tension in his shoulders seemed to ease just a fraction. He didn't say anything, but he didn't tell her to leave either. The silence stretched, filled only by the inviting smell of the food.

Yura smiled, sensing a shift. "It's still warm," she offered softly. "You can just take a quick break, eat something, and then get back to your work. You shouldn't skip meals, Jungkook-ah."

Jungkook sighed, a long, drawn-out sound that was more weary than annoyed this time. He looked from the food to his laptop, then back to the food. The delicious aroma was undeniably tempting. He picked up his chopsticks, a small concession. It seemed, much to his own chagrin, that her strategy had worked, at least a little.

Jungkook picked up his chopsticks, the tantalizing aroma of the bulgogi making his mouth water despite his earlier annoyance. He took a bite, savoring the rich, savory flavor. It was, undeniably, delicious.

Yura watched him, a soft, expectant smile on her face. Her gaze was unwavering, a mixture of hopeful adoration and quiet determination. She didn't speak, simply observed him eating, as if his enjoyment of the food was a small victory for her.

Jungkook ate steadily, his hunger taking over, but he was acutely aware of her eyes on him. He didn't have to look up to know she was still watching, still smiling. A sigh, almost imperceptible, escaped him. He knew, with a certainty that was both frustrating and strangely resigned, that even after all his coldness, all his blunt rejections, she wouldn't leave him. She wouldn't give up. It was a silent, unspoken understanding between them. He was a puzzle she was determined to solve, a fortress she was determined to breach. And for some inexplicable reason, she thought delicious food was the key.

He finished another mouthful, the flavors exquisite, yet the persistent gaze made the meal feel less like a break and more like another negotiation. He knew he'd have to deal with her eventually, but for now, the bulgogi was too good to resist.

Jungkook took the last bite of bulgogi, savoring the taste for a moment before pushing the empty containers aside. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, a silent declaration that the meal, and the brief interruption, was over. He then immediately turned his full attention back to his laptop, his fingers already hovering over the keyboard.

Yura's expectant smile faltered. She had hoped the food would soften him, make him more receptive. "Finished already?" she asked, her voice tinged with disappointment. She took a step closer to his desk. "Don't you want to relax a little? You've been working so hard."

Jungkook's eyes remained glued to the screen. "I have things to do, Yura," he stated, his voice flat. He began typing again, the rhythmic click-clack of the keys filling the room. He made it clear he was no longer engaged in conversation.

Yura sighed, frustrated. She tried another approach, stepping to the side of his desk, trying to catch his eye. "The weather's supposed to be nice tomorrow," she ventured, trying to sound breezy. "Maybe we could—"

"Yura," Jungkook cut her off, his voice sharper this time, though he still didn't look up. "I'm busy. Leave me to my work." His message was clear: he was done. His lack of interest in her, or any woman for that matter, was palpable in his stiff posture and unwavering focus on his screen. He was simply not interested.

Yura's patience, thin to begin with, finally snapped. Her sweet demeanor dropped, replaced by an edge of irritation. "Jungkook, will you just listen to me for a second?" she demanded, her voice rising. "I came all the way here. I brought you food! Can't you just take a moment to be polite?"

Jungkook finally looked up, his eyes cold and hard. His patience had worn completely thin. "Polite?" he scoffed, leaning back in his chair, his expression one of utter disdain. "I told you I was busy. I told you I didn't want coffee. I just finished eating the food you forced on me, and now you're demanding I stop my work? What part of 'I'm not interested' do you not understand, Yura?"

Yura's face flushed with anger. "Not interested? What's wrong with you, Jungkook? I'm trying to be nice! I'm trying to care for you! No one else is going to put up with your cold attitude like I do!"

"And who asked you to?" Jungkook retorted, his voice rising, a dangerous edge creeping into it. "I don't need your care, Yura. I don't need your food, and I certainly don't need you interrupting my work! Get out."

"Get out?" she shrieked, outraged. "After everything I've done? After I try to talk to you, you just ignore me! You're always like this, always cold, always pushing people away! Why can't you just be normal?"

"Normal?" Jungkook's voice was now a low snarl, barely contained. He slammed his hand on the desk, making Yura flinch. "This is my normal, Yura. And if you don't like it, then leave! I have no time for this nonsense. I have no time for you." His eyes blazed with a cold fury. "Now, get out of my office before I make you."

Yura, fueled by anger and desperation, took a step closer, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper that grated on Jungkook's nerves. "Why are you always like this, Jungkook? Pushing me away? Don't you ever get lonely? Don't you ever crave..." She reached out, her hand boldly tracing a path up his arm. "...closeness?"

Jungkook flinched back as if burned, his chair scraping against the floor. His face contorted in disgust. He knew exactly what she was implying, what she truly wanted, and it sickened him. The thought of being touched by her, of anything more, was repulsive.

"Don't touch me," he snarled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated with suppressed fury. His eyes, usually cold, now blazed with a terrifying intensity. "Get your hands off me, Yura."

But she didn't listen. She leaned in further, her voice husky. "Come on, Jungkook. We both know you need someone. I can give you what you want. What you really want. No games, no expectations. Just us." Her hand moved higher, towards his shoulder.

Jungkook's mind snapped. The image of her touching him, of her insinuation, combined with the lingering, baffling embarrassment from Taehyung, pushed him over the edge. He didn't want this. He didn't want her. His control, already fragile, completely shattered.

"Get out!" he roared, slamming his palms on the desk so hard the monitor shook. He lunged forward, not touching her, but his sheer presence, the raw, untamed rage emanating from him, was enough. "I said GET OUT! I don't want you! I don't want your touch! I don't want anything from you!"

Yura stumbled back, her face draining of color as she finally saw the true, terrifying depth of his fury. His eyes were no longer just cold; they were murderous.

"Now!" Jungkook bellowed, rising to his full height, his voice an earthquake. "Before I forget you're a woman and show you exactly what happens when someone doesn't listen to me!" His gaze promised swift, brutal consequences. "Get out of my sight. Don't ever come near me again."

Yura, though visibly shaken by Jungkook's outburst, was not entirely deterred. Her desperation overriding her fear, she took another tentative step forward. "Jungkook, please! Just listen to me!" she pleaded, her voice cracking. "Why are you always like this? Why do you push everyone away? What is it about me that you hate so much?" She reached out a hand, almost pleadingly. "I just want to understand."

Jungkook stared at her, his chest heaving. The sheer persistence, the willful ignorance of his boundaries, pushed him to a desperate measure. He needed to cut her off, definitively, irrevocably. He needed to make her understand there was absolutely no chance.

"Because I'm gay, Yura!" he blurted out, the words ripped from him in a raw, furious confession. He watched, almost detached, as her face went from distraught to utterly shocked, her hand freezing in mid-air.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by Jungkook's ragged breathing. Yura finally found her voice, a harsh, disbelieving laugh escaping her lips. "Gay? Don't be ridiculous, Jungkook. You're a man! And if you can have a man... in your bed," she sneered, her eyes raking over him with renewed calculation, "then why can't you have a woman? What's the difference?"

Jungkook felt a fresh wave of indignity. The audacity of her question, the sheer invasion of his privacy, coupled with the unexpected confession, shattered his remaining composure. He couldn't believe she was still pushing, still trying to break him down.

"Because I'm a power bottom, Yura!" he exploded, the words tumbling out before he could even process them. He immediately clamped his mouth shut, his eyes widening in horror at his own accidental revelation. His face burned crimson, a deep blush spreading from his neck to his ears. He had just confessed something incredibly intimate, something he never shared with anyone, to the one person he wanted to repel the most. The furious glare he shot her was now laced with mortification.

"Now get out!" he roared, pointing a trembling finger at the door. "Get out before I regret being civil!"

Yura stood frozen, her eyes wide with shock and a dawning understanding. "A... a bottom?" she whispered, the words barely audible. The blatant intimacy of the accidental confession hung heavy in the air between them.

Jungkook's face was a mask of furious mortification. He had never intended to reveal anything so personal, especially not to her. The thought of her even daring to process that information, to link it with him, sent a fresh wave of disgust through him. He needed to eradicate any shred of hope, any possibility of her ever returning, of her ever thinking she had a claim on him.

"Yes, a bottom!" Jungkook snarled, his voice laced with venom, pushing past the burning shame. He didn't care what he said now, as long as it made her leave.

"I'd rather get f*cked by Taehyung than have you even think about touching me!" The words were out, sharp and brutal, fueled by a potent mix of rage, self-loathing for his confession, and the overwhelming desire to be rid of her.

Yura gasped, recoiling as if struck. The sheer vulgarity, the explicit preference, and the raw fury in his voice finally broke through her stubborn denial. Her eyes welled up, and her lips trembled.

Jungkook didn't give her another moment. He surged forward, grabbing her arm with a furious grip that made her wince. He didn't bother being gentle; he simply dragged her towards the cabin door, his movements swift and unyielding.

"Now get out!" he roared, shoving her unceremoniously through the doorway. "And don't ever, ever show your face here again. If I see you, I won't be civil, Yura. You understand?" He slammed the door shut with a deafening bang, leaving her stunned and heartbroken in the hallway.

Jungkook leaned against the closed door, his chest heaving, his eyes squeezed shut. He had said too much. Far, far too much. The words about Taehyung echoed in his mind, and a new, unsettling wave of heat washed over him. He had just confirmed his own unexpected desires in the most humiliating way possible.

Jungkook slowly pushed himself off the door, his body trembling. He walked over to his desk, but instead of sitting, he leaned against it, running both hands through his hair. His breathing was still ragged.

"Idiot," he muttered, punching the air weakly. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" The words he'd screamed at Yura, especially the ones about Taehyung, echoed in his mind, each syllable a fresh wave of embarrassment.

"F*cked by Taehyung?" he whispered, the phrase sounding grotesque and alien coming from his own lips. His face flushed a furious red.

He hadn't just revealed his sexuality, he'd revealed his preference, and then linked it to the most annoying, infuriatingly fearless person he'd ever met. The very person who made him blush without even trying.

He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could rewind time.

"Why did I say that? Why couldn't I just shut up?" The thought of Yura repeating it, of anyone else ever knowing, sent a shiver of pure dread through him. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly ridiculous.

He picked up a pen from his desk, gripping it so tightly it nearly snapped.

"I regret every single word," he groaned, his voice hoarse.

"Every single, mortifying word." He pictured Taehyung's easy smile, his playful eyes, and then the terrifying thought of Taehyung ever finding out what he'd blurted out. "No. Absolutely not. He can never know."

The anger at Yura was now overshadowed by a profound, burning shame for his own actions. He felt like throwing something, breaking something, just to get rid of the suffocating feeling. "This is a nightmare," he whispered, staring blankly at the wall. "A complete and utter nightmare."

Jungkook was still simmering in a potent mix of anger and self-loathing when his phone buzzed. He snatched it up, eager for a distraction, for anything to pull him away from the mortifying replay of his recent outburst.

"What is it?" he barked into the receiver, his voice still rough.

A calm, professional voice replied, "Boss, we have a lead on the Crimson Ledger."

Jungkook's focus sharpened instantly, the personal turmoil momentarily pushed aside. The Crimson Ledger was a crucial, encrypted file he'd been desperately hunting for weeks – it contained vital information about a rival organization that could jeopardize his entire operation.

"Where?" he demanded, his voice now cold and authoritative.

"Our intel suggests it's hidden somewhere within Seoul University," the voice on the other end reported. "It's highly secured, buried deep within their archives or perhaps a forgotten lab."

Jungkook's brows furrowed. Seoul University. A public institution. An unexpected, yet intriguing, place for such a sensitive file. "Alright," he decided, his mind already shifting into strategic mode. "Prep the team. I'm going in myself. No mistakes."

He hung up, his gaze falling back to his laptop screen, but his thoughts were already racing. Seoul University. He had no idea what to expect, or how to navigate the sprawling campus. He certainly didn't know that the very person who had just become the accidental subject of his most embarrassing confession – Kim Taehyung – was a student there, walking its halls every day. The universe, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor.

Days later, Jungkook found himself stepping out of a sleek black car onto the manicured grounds of Seoul University. He adjusted the lapel of his tailored suit, his gaze sweeping over the grand academic buildings. The air was buzzing with activity, students rushing between classes, and the sound of distant chatter filled the late morning.

"This is it," his subordinate murmured beside him, gesturing towards a large auditorium where banners proclaimed a "Senior Farewell Function."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. "A 'chief guest' at a farewell function for seniors?" he muttered, a hint of disdain in his voice. This wasn't how he usually operated. He was used to shadows, not spotlights. But this was the best cover his team could devise to get him inside and give him enough free rein to start his discreet search for the Crimson Ledger. The university's administration was more than happy to have a generous, albeit mysterious, "benefactor" attend their event.

He walked with an air of cold authority, his presence immediately cutting through the casual atmosphere. Students subtly parted to make way, their whispers following him. He could feel eyes on him, curious and intrigued, but he paid them no mind. His focus was entirely on the task at hand.

"Just get me access to their archives and the old science department labs later," he instructed his subordinate in a low voice. "The rest is just a formality."

As he entered the main hall, a faculty member immediately approached him, bowing deeply. "Mr. Jeon, welcome! We are truly honored to have you as our chief guest today."

Jungkook offered a curt, almost imperceptible nod. "The honor is mine, I'm sure," he replied, his voice flat, his eyes already scanning the large hall, assessing escape routes and potential hiding spots. He had no idea he was about to encounter the very person who had accidentally become the subject of his most mortifying secret.

Jungkook sat rigidly in the ornate chair on the stage, the droning voice of the university dean a dull background hum. He stifled a yawn, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular. This whole "chief guest" charade was excruciatingly boring. His mind was itching to get to the archives, to start his real work. Every minute spent here felt like an eternity.

He checked his watch discreetly. It had been long enough. He needed to make his move. He caught the eye of his subordinate, giving a subtle nod.

When the dean finally paused for breath, Jungkook seized the opportunity. He leaned forward, clearing his throat. "Excuse me," he said, his voice carrying clearly across the hall. "I apologize, but I just received an urgent communication. I need to step out for a moment."

He rose from his seat, offering a curt, dismissive nod to the startled faculty members, and began to make his way towards the side exit. He navigated through the crowds of students with practiced ease, his mind already on his mission.

He pushed open the heavy double doors, stepping out into a bustling corridor filled with students. He was about to turn right, heading towards the administrative building, when his eyes landed on a familiar head of soft brown hair, distinctive even from behind.

His breath hitched. Standing by a bulletin board, laughing brightly with a group of friends, was Taehyung.

Jungkook froze mid-step, his body instinctively recoiling. His eyes widened in sheer shock. No. No way. Out of all the universities in Seoul, it had to be this one. His mind raced, replaying his mortifying confession about being a "bottom" and his explicit, humiliating declaration about Taehyung just days ago. The crimson blush that had just begun to fade immediately flared back to life.

Before Taehyung could possibly turn and see him, Jungkook reacted. He spun on his heel, diving behind a large, decorative potted plant near the exit, pressing himself flat against the wall, trying to make himself as invisible as possible. His heart hammered in his chest, not from fear, but from a surge of pure, unadulterated embarrassment.

"Damn it," he hissed to himself, peeking cautiously from behind the foliage. "Of all the luck. He's here. He's actually here." He watched Taehyung's carefree laughter, the image of his face from their last encounter, along with his own ridiculous actions, burning behind his eyelids. "This can't be happening."

Jungkook, still pressed behind the plant, took a deep, shaky breath. He had to get out of here. He couldn't risk Taehyung seeing him, not after... well, everything.

Quickly, he pulled a bucket hat from his suit jacket's inner pocket – a precaution he often took for anonymity in public – and shoved it onto his head, pulling it low.

He then adjusted the black mask that was still in his pocket, pulling it up over his nose and mouth, hiding the lower half of his face. His black suit suddenly felt conspicuous.

He took another quick peek. Taehyung was still laughing with his friends, his back mostly to Jungkook. This was his chance.

He began to walk, slowly at first, then picking up his pace, trying to appear nonchalant. His head was bowed, the brim of the bucket hat pulled low enough to obscure his eyes. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, trying to melt into the stream of passing students.

Every step felt agonizingly slow, every casual conversation around him a potential spotlight on his ridiculous escape.

As he shuffled past Taehyung's group, he felt an urge to just disappear. The sheer absurdity of the situation hit him then, a dry, bitter laugh bubbling up in his chest.

A silent, mirthless chuckle escaped him behind his mask. "A mafia boss," he thought, the irony practically choking him, "hiding from a mere college student. This is what my life has come to." The thought was so preposterous, so utterly humiliating, that it was almost comical.

He pulled his hat down even further, quickening his pace, determined to escape this particular brand of hell.

As Jungkook shuffled past, his head down, trying to blend into the crowd, Taehyung paused his conversation. His laughter died on his lips.

His nostrils flared almost imperceptibly, catching a faint, yet intensely familiar scent.

It was a unique blend of expensive cologne, faint metallic undertones, and something else... something distinctly Jungkook.

His eyes, sharp and perceptive, narrowed, locking onto a particular figure trying to slink past. The black suit, the way the person held himself, even with the bucket hat pulled low and the mask obscuring his face. It was the furtive, almost clumsy attempt at anonymity that truly piqued Taehyung's interest. He watched the figure talking quickly into what looked like an earpiece, his shoulders hunched.

"Hey," Taehyung murmured to his friends, his voice low. "Don't look now, but I think someone's trying to be sneaky." He tilted his head slightly, a playful smirk beginning to form on his lips. "That posture... that expensive, slightly dangerous smell..." He watched the masked figure quicken his pace. "Could it be?"

He took a step, calling out in a clear, carrying voice, "Jungkook-ssi? Is that you, trying to blend in?"

Jungkook froze. His blood ran cold at the sound of his name, especially with that teasing lilt. He knew that voice. He felt a spike of pure dread, abandoning all attempts at subtlety. He cursed under his breath, his eyes darting frantically around for an escape route, but it was too late.

Before he could react, a hand shot out from an open doorway he was trying to sneak past. A strong grip clamped around his arm, pulling him with surprising force. He stumbled, caught off guard, and was yanked violently into the dim interior of what looked like a storeroom.

The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind him with a deafening THUD, echoing loudly in the enclosed space. The sudden darkness was absolute, save for a sliver of light from under the door. No one outside would have heard it over the general university buzz.

"What the—" Jungkook began, his voice sharp and dangerous, instinctively reaching for the weapon concealed beneath his suit jacket. His eyes, accustomed to low light, immediately began to adjust, trying to make out his assailant.

A familiar voice, closer than he expected, cut through the darkness. "Well, well, Jungkook-ssi. Trying to sneak past me, were you?"

Jungkook's heart dropped into his stomach. That voice. He already knew.

"Taehyung?" he growled, the word a mix of disbelief and utter exasperation. His hand still hovered near his weapon, but he knew he couldn't use it now. Not on him. "What do you think you're doing?"

Jungkook's eyes, now adjusting to the dimness, could just make out Taehyung's silhouette leaning against the closed door, a playful smirk evident even in the low light. "What do you think I'm doing?" Taehyung retorted, his voice dripping with amusement. "You were trying to run away from me, weren't you? And in that ridiculous disguise, too. A bucket hat and a mask, really, Jungkook-ssi? You look like a secret agent from a bad movie."

Jungkook scowled, dropping his hand from his side. There was no point in drawing his weapon. "I wasn't running away," he lied, though his voice lacked conviction. "I was... on a very important mission. And you just jeopardized it."

Taehyung pushed off the door, taking a step closer. "A mission that involves sneaking around a university in a suit, looking like you're about to rob a vault, and then hiding behind a potted plant?" He chuckled, a soft, warm sound that oddly grated on Jungkook's nerves. "You know, for a scary mafia boss, you're surprisingly easy to spot when you're trying to hide."

Jungkook felt a fresh wave of irritation, mixed with the ever-present, simmering embarrassment. "What do you want, Taehyung?" he demanded, trying to sound as intimidating as possible in the cramped, dusty storeroom. "I don't have time for your games."

"Games?" Taehyung feigned innocence. "I just wanted to say hello. And maybe ask why you abandoned me at the cafe the other day. And why you, uh... licked my face." He watched Jungkook's reaction carefully, a sly glint in his eyes. "That was quite the goodbye."

Jungkook bristled. The reminder of his actions, especially the lick, made his face burn in the dim light. "That was... a mistake," he ground out, trying to sound firm, but his voice betrayed a hint of fluster. "A momentary lapse in judgment due to... stress." He crossed his arms, trying to project an aura of calm, unbothered authority, but it was hard to do in a dusty storeroom while being teased by a college student.

Taehyung just hummed, taking another step closer, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Stress, huh? You looked more like a very angry puppy trying to mark his territory." He chuckled, a soft, teasing sound. "And then you just drove off. Left me standing there like some abandoned stray."

"I had urgent business!" Jungkook snapped, desperate to change the subject. "And you shouldn't have been harassing me in the first place! What were you even doing, following me?"

Taehyung shrugged casually. "I saw you hiding behind that plant. And then I smelled you. You have a very distinct scent, Jungkook-ssi. Hard to miss." He took another step, closing the distance between them. "So, 'urgent business' in a university on a public holiday? Are you here to enroll? Maybe I can give you a tour."

Jungkook could feel his carefully constructed composure crumbling. He was trapped, cornered by a college student who seemed utterly immune to his usual intimidating presence. The absurdity of it all, combined with the lingering embarrassment from his past confessions, made him want to groan. "I'm not here to enroll," he bit out, his voice low. "And I'm not here for a tour. Now, let me out. I have work to do."

Jungkook took a step towards the door, his jaw tight. "I said, let me out, Taehyung." His voice was low, laced with a warning. He tried to brush past Taehyung, but the collage student shifted, blocking his path.

Taehyung just smiled, a challenging glint in his eyes. "Not until you tell me why you're really here, Jungkook-ssi. And why you tried to sneak past me looking like a poorly disguised ninja." He placed a hand flat against the door, effectively barricading it. "Or maybe... you want to tell me why you were so flustered at the cafe? And what that weird little lick was all about?" His smile widened.

Jungkook felt a surge of pure frustration. He could easily overpower Taehyung, but the thought of physically manhandling him, especially after his accidental confession, made his skin crawl. He couldn't risk further embarrassment. "This is not a game, Taehyung," he ground out, his voice dangerously quiet. "Move."

"Oh, but it is a game," Taehyung countered, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "And right now, you're losing. Just tell me, Jungkook-ssi. What's the big secret?" He leaned closer, invading Jungkook's personal space. "Unless... you're still shy about our last encounter?"

Jungkook clenched his fists, his control slipping. He was trapped, cornered, and completely humiliated. "I'm not shy!" he exploded, his voice echoing slightly in the small room. "And I'm not telling you anything. Now get out of my way before I really lose my temper." He took a menacing step forward, hoping to intimidate Taehyung into moving.

But Taehyung held his ground, his eyes wide with feigned innocence. "Temper? Oh no, a scary mafia boss losing his temper? Whatever shall I do?" He batted his eyelashes playfully. "Still not moving, Jungkook-ssi. Your secret's safe with me... once you tell it."

Jungkook's eyes narrowed, a desperate plan forming in his mind. He couldn't force Taehyung, and arguing wasn't getting him anywhere. He had to distract him, hit him where he was least expecting it. A dangerous, risky idea.

"You really want to know what I'm doing here, Taehyung?" Jungkook's voice dropped, becoming a low, husky purr that was utterly unlike his usual tone. He took a slow, deliberate step closer, invading Taehyung's space even more than Taehyung had invaded his.

Taehyung's playful smirk wavered slightly, his eyes flickering with surprise at the sudden shift in Jungkook's demeanor. "Uh... yeah?" he stammered, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Jungkook let his gaze drift slowly down Taehyung's body, lingering for a moment before meeting his eyes again, a heavy, intense look in his own. "Maybe," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, "I'm here for something... a little more personal than a file." He reached out, his hand slowly, deliberately tracing the line of Taehyung's jaw, his thumb brushing against his earlobe.

Taehyung's breath hitched. His eyes widened, and the playful glint in them was replaced by a look of stunned confusion, then something else, something much deeper. He visibly swallowed, his attention completely riveted on Jungkook's touch, his words. The smirk was entirely gone.

Jungkook leaned in even closer, his warm breath ghosting over Taehyung's lips. "What if I told you," he whispered, his voice dangerously soft, "that I came here... just to see you?" He paused, letting the implication hang in the air, his gaze locked with Taehyung's.

Taehyung was utterly frozen, his eyes glazed over, his mouth slightly parted. He was completely, utterly distracted.

Seizing the moment, Jungkook pulled his hand back, his expression instantly hardening. He used the momentum to shove past Taehyung, who was too lost in the moment to react quickly. Jungkook burst through the door, throwing it open with a loud bang, and sprinted out of the storeroom without a backward glance.

Taehyung blinked, slowly coming back to reality. He stood there for a moment, completely bewildered, his hand unconsciously touching his cheek where Jungkook had traced it. Then, he realized what had happened.

"Hey!" he yelled, a frustrated groan escaping him as he finally moved towards the open door. But Jungkook was already gone, a fleeting shadow disappearing down the corridor. Taehyung slammed his fist against the doorframe, a look of pure, unadulterated frustration on his face. "You sly fox!"

Taehyung stood in the doorway of the dusty storeroom, his chest heaving. He stared down the empty corridor where Jungkook had vanished, the realization of what had just happened finally sinking in. The slyness, the unexpected touch, the whispered words... it had all been a trick. A brilliant, humiliating trick.

"Jungkook!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the quiet hallway. "JEON JUNGKOOK!"

But there was no reply. The corridor remained empty, the distant sounds of university life mocking his frustration. Jungkook was gone, vanished as quickly and silently as a shadow.

Taehyung slammed his fist against the doorframe again, the sound dull and unsatisfying. "That absolute... conniving...!" He trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief. His face was a mixture of annoyance and a strange, lingering heat from Jungkook's touch. He'd been outsmarted, completely blindsided, by the very person he thought he had cornered.

"He just licked me," Taehyung muttered to himself, touching his jaw. "And then he runs away? What even is he?" A frustrated groan escaped him. "And I fell for it! Hook, line, and sinker! This isn't over, Jungkook-ssi. Not by a long shot."

Jungkook burst out of the university building, the cool air doing little to douse the fire in his cheeks. He could distinctly hear Taehyung's frustrated yells echoing from the building, calling his name. "Jungkook! JEON JUNGKOOK!"

He ignored it. Absolutely, completely ignored it. He pushed through the last of the lingering students, his pace quickening into a full sprint. He spotted his black car, discreetly parked a little distance away, and ran for it like his life depended on it.

His driver, seeing him approach at such an unusual speed, quickly opened the back door. Jungkook practically dove inside, slamming the door shut.

"Drive!" he barked, his voice hoarse, pulling down his hat and mask. "Now. Get out of here."

The driver, accustomed to Jungkook's abrupt commands, quickly pulled away. As the car sped off, Jungkook slumped back against the plush leather seats, trying to catch his breath.

"Unbelievable," he muttered to himself, running a hand over his face. He could still hear Taehyung's indignant shouts in his mind, the memory of his own ridiculous seduction attempt making him groan. "A mafia boss," he scoffed, the words laced with self-mockery. "A man that people across the city fear, running away, literally running, from a mere college student. Wow."

He closed his eyes, the image of Taehyung's stunned, then frustrated, face burned into his memory. This was officially the most embarrassing day of his life. And he had a nagging feeling it wouldn't be the last.

TBC 💜

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