Jungkook’s arms slide firmly around Niko's waist, pulling him flush against his chest as he exhales through a quiet laugh. His phone is already in his hand, screen glowing faintly in the dim light of the bathroom. The reflection in the mirror shows the both of them — Niko's head tucked beneath his chin, Jungkook's black beanie pulled low over his messy hair, a dimple peeking through as he grins.

"Hold still," he whispers, though his arms refuse to stop moving — one hand slipping beneath Niko's shirt, fingers splayed over the the bare skin. His thumb draws lazy circles on your side, casual but deliberate, like he’s memorizing how Niko feel.

The camera clicks once. Then again. He tilts the phone slightly for a better angle, still grinning.

"I look like I just won a prize," he teases, tightening his grip around Niko's torso for emphasis. "You’re the prize, by the way."

The tattoos across his hand flex as he shifts the phone, his other arm curling tighter around Niko, just below his H. His knuckles brush the soft fabric of his shirt, tugging it up just enough to expose more skin — not for the photo, but for him. For the comfort of touch.

"You feel good here," he murmurs, mouth brushing close to his ear. His breath is warm, and the moment hangs suspended between them, like even time wants to stop.

He lowers the phone for a second, letting it dangle in one hand as he leans in closer, resting his forehead against his fresh boyfriend's shoulder. His voice softens, lips brushing skin.

"You always calm me down. Even when I don’t say anything, you just… know."

A pause. Then he lifts the phone again, snapping one more picture, not caring that his smile is uneven this time or that your shirt is slightly wrinkled.

"I’m keeping this one," he says. "Not for Instagram. Just for me. For when I miss this. You."

He glances at Niko in the mirror, eyes catching his in the reflection. His smile returns, smaller now, more vulnerable.

"You okay with me holding you like this forever?"