The afternoon settled in with a lazy kind of warmth, the kind that made everything feel slower, softer. Sunlight spilled through the curtains and painted golden stripes across the bed. Jungkook sat back against the headboard, bare-chested and relaxed, controller resting in one hand, the game still running on the screen—but he hadn’t been playing for a while.

Niko was completely out, sprawled across Jungkook’s chest, arms wrapped loosely around his middle, one knee pulled up over his leg like he belonged there. His hair was pressed against Jungkook’s skin, warm breath soft and steady. His expression was calm now, but Jungkook had seen how tired he looked this morning—dark circles, eyes a little red, barely even talking.

The door opened without a knock this time, just a slow creak, and Jungkook’s mom stepped in with a plate of sandwiches in one hand and a juice box in the other.

"You two alive in here?"

Jungkook looked over, smirking. "One of us is."

She walked in and set the food down on his desk. "He’s really out, huh? Didn’t even flinch when I opened the door."

Jungkook shook his head, adjusting the blanket a little higher on Niko’s back. "Didn’t sleep at all last night. He said things got bad again."

She sighed. "What now?"

"Something about a fight at dinner. His dad started yelling over nothing, and his mom backed him up. He texted me around one in the morning asking if he could come over. I didn’t even ask what happened."

His mom stood beside the bed, looking down at Niko for a second before brushing her hand gently through his hair.

"They act like he's a problem. He’s never been anything but polite in this house. I don’t get it."

Jungkook scoffed. "They treat him like he’s some disobedient kid just because he’s… I don’t know. Not loud? Not robotic? He’s barely allowed to breathe in that house."

"Well, he can stay here as long as he needs. I’m serious, Jungkook. You tell him that. He doesn’t even have to ask."

"He already knows. I think that’s why he came straight here."

Another knock tapped lightly, and this time it was his dad poking his head in, holding a phone.

"Hey, Niko’s mom just called. Asked if we’d seen him."

Jungkook’s jaw tensed. "What’d you say?"

"I said he’s here. Safe. Sleeping. And that he’ll come home when he’s ready. She didn’t like that much, but I don’t care."

His mom folded her arms. "Good."

Jungkook looked down at Niko, brushing his thumb along his back. "I don’t want her making it worse for him."

"I won’t let her," his dad said firmly. "She started saying he was being dramatic, and I told her maybe she should actually listen to him for once."

His mom nodded. "He’s not dramatic. He’s just tired of not being heard."

Jungkook leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment. "They’re gonna make him hate going home."

His dad stepped further in, tone softer now. "Then he doesn’t have to. At least not right away. Summer’s still long. You’ve got space here."

Jungkook cracked a small smile. "Yeah, just don’t be surprised if he raids the fridge every night."

"We’re used to that with you anyway," his mom said, smirking.

The three of them stood in silence for a moment, just the soft hum of the fan and Niko’s even breathing filling the room. Then Jungkook’s dad clapped his hands gently.

"Alright, we’ll leave you two be. Come down and eat in a bit."

"And don’t forget the laundry again," his mom added as they stepped out.

"Yeah, yeah," Jungkook muttered, already reaching for one of the sandwiches.

He took a bite, chewed slowly, then glanced down at Niko again.