How to tame the dragon

      To say that Jungkook is thrilled would be an understatement. I inform him about the trip and catch myself thinking: I've probably never seen a happier face than he has right now. He's literally glowing with joy, but at the same time, he tries not to show his emotions too much, he busily clarifies the dates and what things he needs to bring with him. However, he ultimately reveals himself by throwing a look that sends shivers down my spine.       Someone is clearly looking forward to this.       Jungkook starts making plans about where and how we'll work and relax. His enthusiasm is overflowing, and he constantly shares ideas with me:       "Taehyung-nim! Let's visit that modern art museum you have mentioned this morning after the exhibition? They say the exhibition is amazing there! And speaking about the evening, we can go to that restaurant where you can enjoy the view of Brussels!"       Have you ever seen someone who tries to maintain neutrality? I desperately reply with a joke that this is a business trip, not a vacation, but I already sense that this is going to be quite challenging. Yet, Jungkook's energy is so contagious that, no matter how hard I try, I can't completely shield myself from it.       The closer the departure date gets, the more nervous I become because I have no idea how this all will end. Sometimes, other people's persistence crosses all the boundaries, and my nerves aren't made of steel either.       As it turns out, I catch either a cold or some damn virus right before the trip. By the time we're at the airport, I feel terrible, which makes my companion extremely worried. He fusses around me, trying to be unobtrusive, but he does the opposite.       On the plane, he settles into the seat next to me as I mentally prepare myself for a long and torturous flight. Jungkook instantly makes himself comfortable in the small cabin space and starts his overprotective mode, as if I'm not a grown man but some infirm old buffer in need of a constant attention.       He alternately offers me a pillow, a blanket, and water. He tries to check my temperature by placing his hand on my forehead, which is clearly unnecessary, but I have no strength to fight this stubborn guy. I vainly try to brush him off, but he insists with such a determination that I eventually give in. Wrapped head to toe in his dragon-like care, I sit there feeling like an idiot.       "Taehyung-nim, are you comfortable?" Jungkook asks, leaning so close that I catch the scent of his cologne:woody with a hint of bitterness. His breath lightly brushes my ear, and I flinch, pressing myself into the seat.       "I'm fine," I mutter, trying not to look at him. "And stop fussing over me!"       All this bustle over my minor ailment is completely unnecessary, but there's no point in fighting some people.       Jungkook laughs softly and even that is way too contagious. I turn to the window, pretending to look at the clouds, but in reality, I'm just trying to hide my embarrassment and a stupid smile.       I wake up as we're about to land. The armrest is down, and my cheek is resting on Jungkook's shoulder. I don't know how long this lasted, but I blink wearily and realize that I haven't slept this so well in a long time, despite my lousy condition and a fever.       "We'll be landing soon, Taehyungie-nim," Jungkook whispers, and it sounds so tender, especially his "Taehyungie"...       Wait, what?       I pull away too harshly and frown, trying to figure out if I misheard or not.       "What's wrong?" he asks, concerned.       "How did you call me?" I narrow my eyes suspiciously.       "Taehyung-nim..."       "I may have a fever, but I'm not deaf, got it? If you call me 'Taehyungie' again, you'll regret it!" I hiss indignantly and try to adjust my seat, but nothing works.       Jungkook silently leans over and helps, then tries to fasten my seatbelt, but I don't let him, I push his hand away too harshly and immediately regret it. I know he means well, but his concern is overwhelming. Jungkook doesn't say another word. Neither do I until we get to baggage claim, where, as it turns out, there's a problem.       My suitcase is lost, and now I have to deal with filing a claim, but I have no energy left for that. I slump onto a bench like a rag doll and wearily watch as the 22-year-old guy effortlessly handles everything in a perfect English. He only approaches me to clarify my passport details and accidentally touches my forehead, but he quickly pulls his hand away, though I'm unable to comment or resist.       When we get into a taxi, I realize that I feel myself even worse. My head is pounding, my body aches, and I can barely keep my eyes open. Jungkook, of course, immediately picks up on my condition. He carefully takes my hand and intertwines our fingers, which naturally makes me want to pull away, but for some reason, I don't.       His palm is rough but so warm and gentle...       I look at his tattooed fingers and reluctantly surrender.       "Mr. Kim," Jungkook says quietly, and I note with a surprise that he's switched back to formal address, which somehow makes me feel strangely sad, even though I was the one who told him to stop. "We'll be there in a twenty minutes. Are you okay?"       I nod tiredly and feel chills added to my fever. The taxi winds through the narrow streets of Brussels, and the lights outside blur into a one hazy spot. Jungkook continues to hold my hand, clearly taking advantage of the moment. Of course, this is all wrong... But can I think about that tomorrow? Today, I'm too exhausted to resist.       At the hotel, I can barely stand. Jungkook takes care of everything: check-in, talking to the staff, even my suitcase, which, thankfully, was found and delivered here. I am reclining on a couch in the lobby again, silently observing. His dragon-like voice sounds confident and calm, especially when he asks for medical assistance for me. I watch him and realize that Jungkook isn't as simple as I initially thought. And all his attentiveness, mixed with genuine care, is truly disarming.       "Mr. Kim," he approaches me and slightly touches my shoulder. "We have a small problem..."       "What is it?" I ask crossly.       "They just have told me that the hotel is fully booked, and there are no rooms available," Jungkook says with a hint of a worry in his voice.       "What do you mean, 'no rooms'?" I sigh starting to get annoyed.       "There's only one double room left..." He glances back at the reception desk. "They promised to sort it out in a couple of days."       "Just great!" I mutter in resignation. "And of course, it's with a shared bed, right?"       "I think we can ask for a cot," Jungkook gives me a guilty smile."We'll figure something out!"       I feel so awful that I'd agree to anything right now, as long as I can lie down and get some proper sleep after this damn flight.       "We need to get to the room. The doctor will be here in half an hour," he adds when he sees from my expression that I'm not going to make a scene or demand to be moved to another hotel.       I nod briefly and let him put his arm around my waist. He radiates reliability and calmness, which shroud me from head to toes This is incredibly strange because Jungkook is much younger than me, which creates a constant internal dissonance mixed with alarm bells signaling that this situation is out of order.       I'd probably accept his help calmly if I didn't know how much he likes me. This kind of thing needs to be nipped in the bud, but here fate itself is bringing us closer.       In the room, Jungkook helps me settle in and even tries to take off my shoes, but that's definitely too much. I manage to do it myself, though its still difficult, trying to steady my dizziness and a racing heart. This is so inconvenient, damn it! I hate being weak especially in situations where I need to to save my face.       Jungkook quietly talks to the hotel staff, rolls our luggage into the room, and stops in a slight confusion.       "Would you like something to eat?" he asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.       "Just a tea," I close my eyes, feeling the fever enveloping my body.       Jungkook immediately springs into action: he charges our phones, calls reception to order what I asked for, and a light dinner for himself. He rustles through bags and fusses endlessly, while I can only watch him in amazement.       The doctor arrives about fifteen minutes later. I hear Jungkook greet him at the door and briefly explain the situation. After a standard check-up, I'm given some fever reducers and advised to rest for a few days. But we don't have that amount of time because the exhibition opens tomorrow, and I need to be there.       When the doctor leaves, Jungkook returns, adjusts my blanket, and places a glass of water on the nightstand. His every move is filled with care and a desire to help in any way he can. It's so astonishing that I'll be processing today's events for a very long time.       "I forgot about the cot," he suddenly remembers, glancing at me. "I'll call to have one brought up..."       I give a sleepy look at the empty side of the bed and sigh. No... Absolutely not! But I quietly say:       "There's enough space here, but put a pillow between us and don't you dare cross to my side! Got it?"       The fire in his dragon-like eyes makes me smirk. Jungkook's emotions are something incredible. Happy and content, he heads to the shower, and I only have enough energy to change into the pajamas and crawl back under the blanket. I keep replaying the day in my head and realize that I've forgotten what it's like to let myself being weak. Maybe I didn't get sick for no reason. I can definitely say that Jungkook was on top of his game today.       He thinks I'm asleep, but I faintly feel his fingers gently brushing through my hair. He strokes so tenderly that I get a goosebumps and it's clearly not from the fever.       "Get well soon, Taehyungie-nim..." he whispers, barely audible.       There it is again, his "Taehyungie"...       Why does it have to be so damn endearing?       I wake up quite early, parched with a thirst, reach for a glass of water, and cast a sleepy glance at my neighbor. As I requested, one of the pillows separates our sleeping spaces, preventing us from getting too close to each other. Though he really didn't have to go shirtless.       You gotta be kidding me!       Jungkook, with his arms tucked under the pillow lies on his stomach, breathing softly in his sleep. The blanket—damn it!—only covers the lower half of his body, while his back... Holy mother of God! It's covered with an intricate tattoos of a dragon-scale patterns. I lean in to get a better look in the dim morning light and stunned by how beautiful it is.       I've never been a fan of tattoos, but sometimes there are an exceptions, and one of them is lying right in front of me. Like a piece of art, completely unaware of how breathtaking he is, down to every millimeter of his perfection! Besides the scales, there are countless mysterious symbols and other patterns that intertwine, creating a true masterpiece.       And that's just his back—I haven't even seen Jungkook's front yet, except for the nipple piercings and the part of the tattoo where a jagged dragon's tail curls around his neck.       Why do I want to touch him so badly?       Damn it...       I slip out of bed and quietly head to the bathroom to wash up and clear my head. I don't like this... Not even for a bit! Thinking that I'm strong enough for a shower, I click the lock and step under the warm water. Maybe it'll wash away this feverish haze. But when I return to the bedroom, the dizziness hits me again, and I curse my own body for betraying me at the worst time possible.       The second time I wake up, Jungkook is already up, clearly trying not to disturb me as he quietly gets dressed. He stands in front of the mirror, buttoning his shirt, unaware that I'm watching him.       Gorgeous.       Surprisingly, despite his bold style, everything somehow works even with the classic attire. The contrast adds a unique charm to his look, making him stand out in a way that is striking without any effort.       "Good morning, Mr. Kim." Seems like someone noticed that I'm awake and shamelessly staring at him. "How are you feeling?"       "Wouldn't call it good," I grumble. "Barely passing."       "I have already called your father and explained the situation, so it's fine—he said I could attend the exhibition without you."       "That's not even a question." I snap. "Who even asked you to do that?"       "At least rest for today! The upcoming Noir et Blanc presentation is way more important!" Jungkook argues, and I can't exactly disagree. "We'll stay in touch if anything comes up, I'll call or text you immediately. Breakfast will be here soon, take your antivirals and fever reducers..."       "Alright, stop being that overprotective!" I try to sound annoyed, but it comes out weak, so I bury myself in the pillows and mutter one last thing: "And behave yourself! No antics at the opening!"       "Everything will be perfect don't worry!" Jungkook flashes a bright smile and throws on a dark-blue jacket with a subtle purple check, perfectly matching his hair.       By evening, I'm feeling well enough to to get myself cleaned up and wait for Jungkook who, by the way, actually handled his task flawlessly. As Noir et Blanc's only representative, he used his perfect English to make a plenty of new acquaintances, Sivan was extremely pleased, as he told me over the phone, so to celebrate this success, I decided to to fork out on a restaurant dinner.       "You look refreshed," Jungkook says, studying me closely across the table. "Are you really feeling better?"       "Definitely," I nod confidently. "Order whatever you want! My treat tonight!"       "Hmm, what's with the sudden generosity?" He quirks an eyebrow and smirks. "Just so you know, I eat a lot."       "And why am I not surprised?" I chuckle. "With all that boundless energy of yours, it's only expected."       "But we complement each other perfectly," Jungkook adds, watching as I roll my eyes at his words.       "Are you implying that I'm old and boring?" I laugh, signaling the waiter.       "Not at all!" he protests immediately. "I'd compare you to a rare, exquisite wine, the kind that exists in only one bottle, owned by a certain young collector."       "Are you flirting with me again?" I want to sound annoyed, but instead, my lips betray me with a flustered smile.       I'm infuriated by my own reactions, felling like a lovestruck kid, completely undermining my usual stern boss persona. Day by day, this guy keeps pushing closer, worming his way under my skin—right into my damn heart! I can't let this happen.       So why do I want it so badly?       Jungkook goes still, studying my conflicted expression before murmuring:       "Yes. And you like this , don't even try to deny it."       It feels like he just read my mind. That's terrifying. Flustered, I decide to ignore the comment and focus on the oder, desperate for a distraction.       Jungkook's appetite really is impressive. He savors every dish with such an enthusiasm that I can't help but catch his excitement. He hums in a delight, eyes fluttering shut as he tries the tender lamb with a caramelized sauce and asparagus, and once again, I'm struck by how open he is when it comes to showing his own emotions. Meanwhile, I clearly have issues with that...       We chat animatedly about the day, and I finally start to relax. I praise Jungkook for his independence and even raise a toast in his honor only to freeze in shock when he absentmindedly licks his upper lip. My eyes are widen.       "Show me," I rasp, leaning forward slightly. "Even here you look like a dragon?"       "Mhm..." Jungkook sticks out the very tip or rather, two tips of his tongue in a pure pleasure, wiggling them playfully. "It's called a split."       Honestly, I don't know how to react. Only someone reckless or completely daft would do something like that. Or, well, that is Jeon Jungkook.       "Why the obsession with dragons?" I start cautiously.       "Oh, that's a long story, and I'm not sure you're ready to hear it yet," he replies with a grin.       "And why the split?" I'm still trying to understand his motives.       "It's a part of my aesthetics. I got obsessed with the idea but took a forever to find the right specialist, because the tongue has two major arteries, and if you damage even one of them, it will cause a serious bleeding. And trust me, there was so much blood in my case. I couldn't speak properly for three weeks, but it was worth it. With a tongue like this, you know, you could destroy the whole cities and..."       "Stop!" I squeeze my eyes shut because my imagination just went very off-track.       "I wasn't planning on showing you this part of me yet," Jungkook muses, taking a generous sip of wine. "But sometimes, accidents have their own charm, don't they?"       "Enjoying my shock?" I scoff, shaking my head.       "I'd call it sheer awe." Straight to the point, as always. Jungkook never minces words.       I glance around thoughtfully, suddenly noticing how empty the restaurant is—just a few occupied tables in the dimly lit hall. It's strange, but of course, I don't voice my thoughts aloud.       Dinner ends with an impromptu stroll. The evening air of Brussels is crisp and cool, the city glowing with the lights, distant street musicians playing somewhere in the background. Jungkook walks beside me, his shoulder occasionally brushing mine, and with every touch the tension between us coils tighter. Somehow,we both fall silent, each of us is lost in his own thoughts.       But this silence is heavy with everything that left unsaid unspoken.       Then, unexpectedly, I feel his pinky graze mine. At first, it's almost an accidental touch but then Jungkook hesitantly hooks his finger around mine, probably praying for me not to pull away. There's something achingly tender in this gesture, hidden beneath the rustle of my coat's fabric. My breath catches, the heart is pounding. It's innocent, yet unbearably intimate.       *It's just fingers. Nothing more.* I repeat it like a mantra, but deep down, I know—he didn't just catch my finger. He's got me hooked, flawlessly. And there's no turning back now.       The next day, we successfully present the new *Noir et Blanc* collection. I'm pleased with the results and the reaction of potential partners—they're genuinely interested in us. But one thing still bothers me: the excessive attention towards my intern. As it turned out, he charmed everyone here yesterday to the point that today, he's talking to many of them like to an old friends.       What the hell?       Since when is he such a social butterfly?       And why does it piss me off so much when some la-di-da Italian guy openly hits on him? Hey! Hello! Did Jungkook give him his number? Or was it just a business card?       Fuck!       I glare around like an enraged hawk, and at some point, I realize I'm not making connections, I'm just watching Jungkook and everyone he talks to. I note his manner of speaking, immediately step closer to stay in the loop, and seethe with fury.       I'm not sure yet who I'm angrier at: myself or him. But it doesn't change a thing.       Jungkook, meanwhile, keeps glancing at me, but continues to reel in strangers with his charm and eccentricity. I can say without any doubt that he's the star of the event. Once people start talking to him, they notice far more than just his striking appearance.       A charming asshole.       After a lavish dinner, we head back to the hotel, completely drained—we've been at the presentation all day. Jungkook probably senses my annoyance because he's unusually quiet. He texts someone on his phone and avoids bothering me, as if he already knows I'm not in the best mood.       It would've been fine, but as we step into the elevator, the dumbest, most cliché thing imaginable happens: we get stuck somewhere between the third and the fourth floors. And, of course, the lights go out, plunging us into the pitch darkness and total confusion. I let out a hysterical laugh inside myself because none of this feels funny anymore.       "Where's the emergency button?" I blurt out, breaking the silence, and fumble for my phone's flashlight only to drop it the moment I'm get pinned against the wall. "Don't you dare!" I hiss in warning, trying to push him away, but it's useless.       "Forgive me, but I can't take it anymore!" Jungkook presses his forehead against mine, breathing heavily. "I'm about to do something, and I'm ready to get punched for it, but I don't care..." He finds my lips and kisses me with a furious intensity.       He takes me by the storm, leaving no room to think. It's so insane, so passionate, so deep that my knees start trembling. Until today, I'd never experienced anything like this, only read about it in the books, dismissing it as fantasy. Turns out, I was wrong?       My body is a traitor, reacting to every touch in ways it shouldn't. Why do I part my lips when I should've kept them locked up tight? Why do I tangle my fingers in those damn purple strands? Why do I let his tongue slip deeper than it should?       The sensation of his forked tongue is unreal.       While I struggle to process the overwhelming emotions, someone shows no intention to stop. His hot tongue trails down my neck, lips grazing and lightly sucking in my skin, teeth are nipping in some places—all while he lets out these obscenely tempting little moans.       Did I say I'd lose my mind with him?       Well... That's exactly what's happening right now.       I'm an adult man who got squeezed in the elevator and even not allowed to say a word. My sexual arousal went all over the place to the point that I just stay in a total shock. It feels like my body returned to the puberty when the erection rulled the world.       My vision blurs.       A total fucking disaster.       The lights flicker back on so abruptly that I'm left blinking in a stunned silence for a several seconds. If this isn't electroshock therapy, then what is that? It feels like I just stumbled into a transformer booth and accidentally grabbed the deadly wire, bare-assed, apparently.       Jungkook, despite the sudden illumination, presses even closer, burying his face in the crook of my neck, his breath scorching against my skin. He shows no intention of pulling away. Instead, he nuzzles me with such a tenderness that my mind short-circuits all over again. The elevator lurches into motion, objectively, it's only seconds, but time stretches into eternity.       I don't push him off. But I have no idea how to process any of this. Because I didn't just return the kiss I devoured it, like I'd been starving for it. And there's no fucking excuse! I'm older, I should've had some semblance of control!       "You're definitely angry. But don't be," Jungkook murmurs, his voice is featherlight. "You have no idea how happy I am right now. Thank you." His lips brush the shell of my ear and the sensation detonates like a nuclear blast.       What the hell am I supposed to say to that? How do I shove away this dragon-hearted miracle clinging to me like I'm his lifeline? Mercifully, the elevator dings, delivering us to our floor. We break apart just enough to stumble into the hallway.       The fact that we're sharing a room and a bed, sends my already frayed sanity into a freefall. Maybe I did drink too much, because I'm muttering an absolute nonsense as I fumble for the keycard. The door clicks shut behind us, and for a heartbeat, we just stare at each other in a charged silence.       Then, like a fog rolling in—it's all feverish kisses, clothes ripped off in a haste, and desperate touches that sear straight through me.       I can't take it anymore...       *Especially when it comes to his hot whisper, pleading "don't push me away."       *Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. Maybe I never stood a chance to resist which is probably why it's no surprise that just a few minutes later, we're already in the shower, unable to tear ourselves apart.*       *Jungkook's reaction to my every touch is simply breathtaking. He doesn't hold back his emotions, driving me even wilder with his moans. Though, how much wilder could I even get?*       *His body is "a true masterpiece". Muscles ripple under the tattooed skin, every curve sculpted as if by a genius artist. His perfectly toned chest tenses with each movement, the lines so sharply defined. My gaze trails down his stomach, where the ridges of his abs are so pronounced that I can't help but run my fingers over them. And that's exactly what I do, noticing how he shudders at my touch.*       *His arms are my biggest weakness. Strong, veins prominent beneath the inked skin, intricate patterns swirling in elaborate designs. I could admire him forever.*       I look at his excitement and mentally click my tongue at what I saw. A perfect sized penis trembles impatiently, and when I squeeze it with my fingers, I see a seductively glistening drop of an lubricant — I just want to brush it off with my tongue. I move my hand and watch like Jungkook is jolting because of my deliberately slow actions.       I fall with my lips to his neck, next to the carotid artery — exactly in the place where the tip of the dragon's tail is visible. I catch myself thinking that I have wanted to do this for a long time. And now I'm brazenly taking Jungkook almost to the edge. He reaches out to my groin, but I don't allow to touch myself: it's not time yet.       I want to enjoy it to the fullest.       "Have you had a similar experience?" I whisper in his ear hoping that at least something can be heard through the sound of pouring water.       "N-no..." Jungkook flinches again, and I step back in a daze.       "Are you a virgin?" I ask in a surprise.       "Not really: everything happened to the girls, but not to the guys," he honestly admits. "They never attracted me — only my dragon." He bites into my lips as I frantically try to think through it all.       On the one hand, my internal owner is rejoicing now, and on the other... What should I do with him? I see that Jungkook is ready for anything, but what if he doesn't like it? And out of the corner of my consciousness I remember that he is the son of my friend. And until the issue is resolved, the actual sex should not happen, no matter how much I wanted to.       Without allowing him to come to his senses, I turn his back on me and freeze again, fascinated by the mysterious drawings. The muscles tense when he rests his palms on the wall and tails off in anticipation.       I can't resist and run my tongue along the cervical vertebrae, and then lean towards his ear and whisper:       "No penetration today, but it will be very good! I promise!"       Jungkook exhales noisily and nods with a slight smile. I think he was still very worried and calms down a little from what he heard.       His body is fascinating, I really want to explore every centimeter of it. I slide my fingers along the ribs, feeling his heart beating like a hunted bird somewhere under them. I can't stop and the wanth grows more and more that my cheekbones       "You are perfect," I click my tongue with pleasure, squeezing one of his elastic buttocks.       I put him in such a way that his hips are tightly moved, and I begin to slide with my penis between his legs, simultaneously caressing another's excitement with my hand. Although this is not full-fledged sex, the best thing you can come up with right now is for both of us to relieve the crazy tension.       "Taeh..."Jungkook chokes from excess sensations and barely audible adds:" ...hyunie-nim."       "Stop calling me like that already!" I grumpily stop his stupid attempt to show respect even in such a situation.       "Taehyung..." he savors my name on the tongue with pleasure. "Finally!" He tries to turn around, but I don't allow it, I slide between other's hips even more intensely.       I increase the amplitude, compress my fingers a little more and shift the focus to the head of his penis. Skillfully caressing, I bring him to the peak within a few minutes. How he shakes, oh Lord! Jungkook, by the inertia, pushes into my fist a couple more times and freezes, pulsating in my palm. I kiss his shoulders and neck, scratching his skin with a smile, rub his cheek and cover my eyes from pleasure. Although I didn't finish, it was still amazing.       I am lured back into a long, wet and cheeky kiss, and then suddenly pulled away and slowly kneeling down in front of me, looking up at me so faithfully and at the same time so sexually that I am unable to resist.       There have been various blowjobs in my life, but none with a dragon tongue, which literally drives me crazy with its cheeky actions. For a guy without such an experience, Jungkook is really good. I can't take my eyes off him and still don't believe that this is happening. What we're doing is wrong, but it's so amazing! My mind just runs down my legs into the drain hole — along with the remnants of self-control.       "Don't take it too deep," I ask hoarsely, fearing that he will overdo it now. "Yes, that's good!" I put my palm on the back of his head and control the pace.       When the tip of his tongue begins to circle around the urethra, it darkens before my eyes. This is a total mess! Everything is so bright and sensual, and in some places even a little painful, but it's pleasant to the point of tingling at the fingertips.       A loud groan breaks from my lips when I realize: there are only a few seconds left. I sharply pull him away and grab him by the hair so that his head tilts back a little. Jungkook is beautiful in his vulgarity when white drops fall on his slightly open mouth, neck and face. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to cum like this. Although I understand: he doesn't mind at all, because shamelessly collects the hot semen from his chin with his fingers and lick the lips so sexually that everything inside me is wrapped in a knot of new excitement.       "You're driving me crazy, you unbearable creature!" I bend over and dig my lips into his dirty mouth, feeling my own taste, which now does not seem repulsive.       The third day in Brussels is dedicated entirely to a relaxation, just as originally planned. We stroll slowly through the city's narrow streets, enjoying the walk. Jungkook chatters nonstop, and I love seeing him so happy. Though, every time our eyes meet, I feel this stupid awkwardness because of what happened. It was passionate, spontaneous, even crazy it's like one of those moments when you don't think about the consequences, and the guilt hits you much later. Like in the morning, when a warm body presses against your back, wrapping you in a tender embraces. Now I have to take responsibility for all of this, but I don't even know how I'll face Siwan.       *Sorry, buddy, but your son and I...*       *Damn it!*       I just can't imagine how he'll react! And I don't want to talk about my worries with Jungkook, because it'll seem like I'm trying to push the problem onto him. He'd probably say he'll handle it by himself, but that's not how things should be done. I'm a grown man after all!       We stop at the Grand-Place — the Brussels' central square. It's incredibly beautiful here: majestic buildings with golden details and impressively monumental architecture that truly takes your breath away.       Jungkook takes out his phone and snaps a few pictures before turning to me.       "Let's take one together?"       I nod silently and step closer, but he suddenly plants a kiss on my cheek and the photo captures my slight confusion: we are in the middle of the street, after all. Jungkook bursts into laughter as he looks at the picture, pleased with how masterfully he caught me off guard. I should spank his smug dragon ass! Or maybe fuck him? *God, what am I even thinking about?*       At the Magritte Museum, he stands for a long time in front of one of the artist's most famous works "The Son of a Man." He examines the painting with a puzzled expression: it depicts a man in a formal suit, his face is obscured by an apple. I come near Jungkook and watch as he tilts his head slightly, trying to view it from a different angle.       "You know," he says quietly, without taking his eyes off the painting, "this piece makes you think about how we perceive others."       I stay silent, intrigued, waiting for him to continue.       "We only see what we're allowed to. Like this apple hiding the man's face, people around us always conceal something behind their words or actions. Even those we consider to be close to us, those we think we know well," Jungkook murmurs with a hint of sadness. "And the most interesting part..." He turns to me. "We take it for granted and never try to look deeper, because we're afraid of what we might find."       In an instant, I realize what he's getting at. The whole image is just what Jungkook allows many to see. But who he really is that's something I'll have to discover, and only if he lets me. His thoughts are profound. And honestly, over these past few days, I've noticed time after time how remarkably sharp Jungkook is for his age and it's genuinely impressive.       You'd never guess he's only twenty-two...       By evening, we make it to the Atomium— the Brussels' symbol and its the most unusual showplace. The massive metal structure glitters in the setting rays of the sun. Jungkook is thrilled: he examines the details with fascination and convinces me to take the elevator up to one of the spheres, where a breathtaking view of the city unfolds before us. Brussels stretches out like a living painting.       "Beautiful, right?" Jungkook asks, standing beside me by the window.       I nod, but for some reason, I'm looking at *him* instead of the view outside. I literally can't look away, feeling myself falling for this guy who annoyed me so much not long ago. *How the hell did he manage that?*       Sometimes, Jungkook looks at me like he can read my mind, like he knows everything about me. He smirks slyly and, without asking, secretly laces his fingers with mine. And I don't resist. I pull him closer by the waist—screw everyone else.       I feel so good that it's almost scary.       Next, we head to a restaurant with an observation deck—our table is booked with a stunning view of Brussels at night, now is sparkling with the thousands of lights. Jungkook orders wine and something from the local cuisine while I just watch him. He talks about something cheerful, funny, but I catch myself barely listening cause I'm mesmerized by the moment itself.       "Why do I get the feeling that you didn't just       "Because you're right," he replies calmly with a slight smirk.       In the golden glow of the whimsical ceiling lamps, his presence feels warm, almost cozy. *Enveloping* is the word I'd use. Jungkook adjusts his hoodie's collar, rolls up his sleeves slightly, and leans back comfortably against the sofa.       "Then tell me," I urge impatiently, though I'm not sure I want to hear the whole truth.       "There's still too much doubt in your eyes, so I don't think..."       "By the way, I've noticed you pick up on every little reaction of mine and often say things out loud like you have expected them. How does that work?" I interrupt him.       "Because I've studied your personality type pretty well," he says with a shrug.       "In such a short time?" My face shows a genuine surprise.       "Well... Five years isn't that short," he drops unexpectedly.       Thankfully, I wasn't drinking wine at that moment, otherwise, I'd have choked. I stare at him in a silent shock, not even blinking.       "F-five years?" I repeat, totally stunned.       "I know it sounds a bit overwhelming, but I figured if you started asking questions, I'd answer them as honestly as possible. So next time you want to ask something, you should think about whether you're ready for the truth. It might really shock you."       "Wait, so you..." I finish my wine and set the glass down. After the waiter refills it, I press on impatiently, "You knew me long before the internship?"       "Of course," he nods. "I first saw you on Jeju, at a big company event my father hosted at our mansion. You were playing the piano and singing so beautifully that I was completely captivated."       "So how old were you? Seventeen?" I ask, stunned, slowly trying to process what I've just heard.       "Almost. Back then, I wasn't exactly eager to socialize, but I still watched you from afar. Your grace, beauty, confidence, and ability to charm absolutely anyone left me with no chance at all."       "And?" Of course, I'm curious to hear the rest.       "But what was I compared to you?" Jungkook looks away sadly. "It was obvious that the age gap meant everything back then. I'd have been seen as just a dumb teenager, which, honestly, I really was."       "But someone didn't think of backing down, huh? So how did it go?" I bombard him with the questions.       "You started appearing in my dreams almost immediately and often as a golden dragon. I can't explain, but it felt like an obsession. That's when I began studying mythology, trying to piece everything together."       "So that's where it all started..." I interlock my fingers and rest my chin on them.       "You might not believe it, but there's a Chinese folktale about the dragons. It tells about their love and loyalty."       "Like a swans?"       "Yeah, exactly! Something very similar," Jungkook nods. "A dragon chooses its mate once and for life. But it wasn't me who chose you—it was you, because at some point, you looked at me and smiled in this... very special way. You probably don't even remember, since I was so different back then."       I sit there, unsure how to respond. My face must be a picture of utter bewilderment, which is impossible to mask. I stay silent for a long time, trying to process his confession, and he doesn't rush me. Jungkook sips his wine, eyes never leaving me.       "So what happened next?" Curiosity will get me killed.       "I decided that my time hadn't come yet. You wouldn't have wanted... such a young dragon beside you..." He abrupts himself off, hesitating, but after a brief pause, rephrases: "You wouldn't have wanted me back then."       "But you couldn't have known about my sexuality."       "I overheard you talking to a friend on Jeju. You were confiding about how hard it was to find a same-sex partner in such an intolerant country. That... gave me a hope."       What follows is a story so surreal that I forget to breathe, sitting there in a stunned silence.       "First, I had to finish a high school and get into a university. I planned to study design to be closer to you, but my father insisted on a different path."       "Why? Design is directly related to his business!" I'm genuinely surprised.       "Because at some point, he found out about my feelings. It was a big scandal. For a man who had so many expectations of me, my sexuality was a shock. I kept trying to convince him I wasn't *fully* a gay because no other guy except you ever interested me." He pins me with a sharp look. "I begged him endlessly to invite you over, just to meet each other, but he always refused."       "I can't believe Siwan knew and never told me..." I feel anger rising inside, and Jungkook notices that.       "Please, don't blame him! He fought me for five years, using every possible method. I put him through the hell, honestly, it's embarrassing." He lets out a nervous laugh. "He thought it was just some a spoiled rich kid's whim, but it wasn't. He really didn't want us crossing our paths, so he blocked me at every turn. That's why he shipped me off to the fucking England! But my mom and I made a deal: if I still felt the same after two years, she'd help me."       "Jungkook, this sounds like... an obsession. Or a fanaticism. I don't even know." I'm completely lost.       "I expected that" he says with a quiet laugh.       "And there it is again! How the *hell* did you study me so well that you can literally read my mind?" I'm starting to lose my patience.       "You have an Instagram. You didn't post often, and your Stories were rare, but every update was like a gold to me. When I left for England, all I could do was watch from a distance. I had to memorize every detail: your food preferences, music taste, the books and movies you reviewed. And then... Saeho happened." He abrupts himself off, biting his lip to steady his emotions. "That's when I entered my hardest phase which I call 'becoming the dragon.'"       "You went off the rails?"       "Something like that." He takes a generous sip of wine, staring straight into my soul. "All the tattoos, the flashy image, the gym grind to perfect my body—it was all for you. To make sure you'd like what you will see."       "The scales make sense," I say, nodding at the intricate ink. "But the characters on your body, do they mean something?"       Jungkook smiles faintly, his dragon eyes glinting in the dim light as he traces one of the inscriptions with his finger.       "It's Sanskrit. And every single word is about you."       "Every. Word?" My heart skips a beat.       *Yes." His gaze doesn't waver, and a chill runs down my spine at the realization of how deeply obsessed this man is.       "That's terrifying, Jungkook." I bury my face in the hands. Maybe I shouldn't have asked.       "I know. At first." He nods, there is an understanding in his eyes. "Give yourself some time. You won't find a more devoted partner, I'd do anything for you."       "I'm not ready for that kind of sacrifice..." I mutter, taking a sip of wine to avoid his gaze.       "I have expected that too." He leans forward, covering my hand with his and squeezing gently. "But I'm being completely honest now because I know what you're feeling after last night. You were planning to talk to my father when we got back, weren't you?"       "Yeah. I'm older and I should take responsibility." And I'm fucking furious at Siwan right now.       "But you didn't know that he already knew," Jungkook continues, his dragon eyes are hypnotizing me.       "How do you do that?" I yank my hand away, hiding it under the table. Any contact with him right now is too much.       "Do what? Predict you?" He pops a piece of cheese into his mouth, smirking.       "Yes."       "Oh, that's my favorite* part!" His face lights up. "Let me explain... My thoughts are very structured and I adore to calculate the moves. It's like the chess—several moves ahead. In my head, it's similar to a massive microcircuit with endless branches of possible reactions, leading to a chains of events, and so on."       "When you brought me that pie, how many scenarios did you run?" This is genuinely impressive. Almost genius-level high.       "About thirty," he admits proudly.       "That's insane!" I cover my face again. "Now you're scaring me even more!"       "Your reaction is completely valid." His voice is calm, almost hypnotic. "Anyone would be shocked. But setting all that aside... you are happy with me, right? We've had an amazing time!"       "Did your father plan this trip for just the two of us?!" I don't even try to hide my anger.       "Oh, no! This was a happy surprise for me. He actually said you'd reject me after this trip. I think he wanted to speed things up, but he severely underestimated his son."       "The hotel 'mix-up' with the rooms... Explain." I narrow my eyes, catching him off guard.       "Shit." He rubs his nose, being embarrassed. "Okay, fine. I might have cheated a little there."       "You thought I wouldn't figure it out?"       "Not at all! I'm sure you realized that same night we had a dinner when the hotel was almost empty." Again, zero shame in those shameless dragon eyes.       "Your audacity is unreal." I let out a strained laugh.       "All's fair in love and war. Or, well to conquer you."       I fall silent time to time and Jungkook waits patiently, letting me process everything. It's frustrating how easily I was played, but my real anger isn't at him, it's at myself.       This little heart on your face," I say, changing the subject. "Tell me about it. It doesn't match the rest."       "Oh, that's a great story!" He perks up, and we signal the waiter for more wine. "The day I found out you and Saeho broke up, I celebrated, like, properly. So I went to the tattoo parlor and spent *hours* there, unable to decide... until I asked for this." He points to the smudged heart on his cheekbone, laughing. "The artist nearly killed me for wasting his time, but I tipped him well."       "Why this?"       "Because it's where you'll kiss me every morning and night. The smudging? That's from your lips wearing it away."       I stare at him, speechless.       It's terrifyingly romantic.       That evening, too much crashes down on me at once, so, whether out of the modesty or cowardice, I ask for some space. When we get back to the hotel, I tell Jungkook that I need a time to process everything he's revealed. He takes it in stride, even helps me roll my suitcase to the next room though not before pinning me to the wall and stealing one last, shameless kiss before vanishing.       I told you—Jungkook's a cunning, seductive little bastard.       The flight back is uneventful, though I keep my distance, which visibly disappoints Jungkook. Then again... He probably foresaw this in his chessboard mind too.       What I do know is this: his grand calculations didn't account for my next move.       The moment we land in Seoul, I call Siwan and demand a meeting in my office. His voice tightens, but he shows up a few hours later.       I scorch him with a glare and slide a resignation letter across the desk.       Something tells me nobody in the Jeon family saw this coming.       Check-fucking-mate.