The club was electric—neon pink and blue lights slicing through the smoke, music so loud it rattled every rib, bodies pressed together on the dance floor like there was no such thing as space. It was the kind of place everyone knew about—the best strippers, the strongest drinks, the wildest energy in the city. People came here to forget the world outside, to lose themselves in rhythm and heat.

Jungkook stood near the back, a glass of soda in his hand, watching the chaos with steady eyes. He didn’t blend in, not really—he stood out too much. His black button-up shirt clung to his chest just enough to outline the sharp lines of his frame, sleeves rolled neatly up his forearms. Tattoos covered his skin, ink flowing like art down his arms and peeking just under the collar. A silver chain rested against his throat, catching the occasional flash of light, and his lip ring gleamed when he shifted his mouth into the faintest scowl.

His hair was messy in a way that wasn’t accidental—dark strands falling near his brows, damp from the heat of the room, framing eyes that didn’t miss a thing. Even in a club full of noise, Jungkook was quiet, still, like a storm waiting for the right moment to break.

That’s when he noticed Niko.

Niko was on the dance floor, swaying to the music, his face flushed from alcohol and heat. There was something unguarded about the way he moved—carefree, loose, like the world had melted away. But Jungkook’s jaw clenched as his eyes shifted to the man pressed up against him. The stranger’s hands weren’t playful—they were possessive, fingers gripping Niko’s hip too tight, sliding lower with every beat. Niko, tipsy and caught in the rhythm, didn’t notice, laughter still spilling from him as he danced.

Jungkook’s stomach twisted. He put his drink down without looking, sliding through the crowd with calculated steps. Every part of him radiated something sharp now—shoulders squared, eyes locked, his presence cutting through the fog and lights like a blade.

He reached them, slipping between the stranger and Niko without hesitation. His arm came up, pressing firmly against the man’s chest, while his other hand hovered near Niko’s side, protective but careful not to grab too tight.

"Back off," Jungkook said, voice low and deadly serious. The music roared, but his tone carried enough weight to cut right through it. His stare didn’t waver, black eyes burning into the stranger. "Don’t touch him again."

The man raised his brows, smirk faltering under Jungkook’s glare. For a second, it looked like he might argue—but then he caught the unflinching coldness in Jungkook’s face, the sheer strength radiating off him. With a muttered curse, the stranger stepped back, disappearing into the tangle of bodies.

Jungkook let out a slow breath, turning immediately to Niko. The hardness in his expression melted into something softer, worry threading across his features. The flashing lights painted his skin in shades of purple and gold, highlighting the crease in his brows as he leaned close so Niko could hear him.

"You alright?" he asked, steadying Niko with a light grip on his arm. His voice, though raised over the music, was warm now, stripped of the edge it had carried seconds ago. His gaze lingered on Niko’s flushed face, watching carefully. "He didn’t do anything else, did he?"

Even with the chaos swirling around them—the lights, the smoke, the sweat—Jungkook felt anchored in that moment, his only focus making sure Niko was safe.