Jeon Jungkook' Upbringing

"Where are you going?" Taehyung asks, noticing his son starting to run around the house looking for the right sweatshirt.

— To Subin.

"We agreed that you'd only take him out once, Jiho. And no more," Taehyung's stern voice made Jiho stop in the hallway and look him in the eyes, confused.

• Well, dad...

"You're 14, no partying. You know your dad will be furious."

And indeed. Dad will be furious. At 14, you don't usually think about relationships, or even about going out. A child should feel like a child, not like an adult. But apparently, for Jiho, the law doesn't apply.

At first, Soobin was just a friend, a simple classmate whom Jungkook and Taehyung had heard about quite often. But then the boy decided to tell his father the truth: they'd started dating. What were kids thinking? At first, Taehyung was completely indignant, but eventually, albeit intensely, he accepted the situation. However, he didn't stop monitoring and strictly limiting his son. With Jungkook, it was a completely different story; the head of the family couldn't accept the news, even though Taehyung tried to smooth things over.

"Taehyung, are you out of your mind? What kind of relationship is a 14-year-old? He's not even 16." His voice was angry and nervous.

And no matter how many times Taehyung tried to speak softly to his husband and show more patience for his strict, paternal nature, Jungkook was unyielding; he couldn't allow his son at such a young age to hang around with just any boy, even if it was his classmate. Jiho was 14, and an omega. Still stupid and naive.

When Dad was at work until late, Jiho was saved by his dad. Taehyung, though reluctant, let his son out for just a few minutes. At least to see Soobin. Because if Jungkook had been home, the alpha wouldn't have even spoken to him. He would have killed the boy and grounded his son for a week.

"You're staying home today," Taehyung repeats, sighing and crossing his arms over his chest. "Father will be back soon, I can't let you go."

Jiho, standing in the hallway, immediately drooped, looking away in disappointment, not knowing what to do now. Soobin was waiting for him. And it was cold outside.

...Spring rain smells of hope. It doesn't carry the irreversible weight of loss that comes with precipitation at other times of year. You don't want to watch spring rain from the sidelines, immersed in the comfort of home. Beneath it, you want to live, love, and hope. Count the drops, losing count, catching them with your tongue, memorizing the freshness of a new season. Spring rain is like a mint cocktail with ice cubes. A cocktail of spring, so reminiscent of summer...