Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Leave Me With A Kiss
The morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and hesitant, as if afraid to disturb the quiet intimacy of the room.
Seokjin stirred, his body warm and pliant in the circle of Taehyung’s arms. The steady rhythm of Taehyung’s heartbeat beneath his ear was a familiar comfort.
It was a silent promise which, for now, the world could wait.
Taehyung’s hold tightened instinctively as he shifted, his calloused fingers tracing idle patterns along the curve of Seokjin’s bare shoulder. Even in sleep, he was possessive, as if his body refused to forget he was not always this close --- soon, before duty would pull them apart again.
“You’re awake,” Taehyung murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
Seokjin tilted his head up, meeting Taehyung’s heavy lidded gaze. There was something unbearably tender in the way Taehyung looked at him, like he was the only thing worth seeing.
“Mmm,” Seokjin hummed, pressing closer. “You’re warm.”
A low chuckle rumbled in Taehyung’s chest. “And you’re greedy.”
But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he slid a hand down his spine, settling at the small of his back, right where the curve of his body had begun to soften.
Seokjin swallowed, his fingers curling against Taehyung’s chest.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Taehyung murmured, brushing his lips against his forehead. “It’s too early for that.”
He exhaled, letting his eyes fall shut. “I know.”
The silence settled between them, thick with the weight of unspoken words. The future loomed, uncertain and relentless, but here, tangled in the sheets, they could pretend time moved slower.
Taehyung’s thumb traced the jut of his hip, his touch feather light.
“You’ll be careful,” he said, not a question but a quiet command.
Seokjin’s breath hitched.
“Always,” he whispered.
Taehyung leaned in, capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. It tasted like longing, like a silent plea for things neither of them could promise. When he pulled away, his dark eyes held his, unwavering.
“Then leave me with a kiss,” Taehyung murmured, “so I know you will come back.”
He did, again and again, because even if the world demanded everything from them, this was the one thing he refused to lose.
The morning light spilled lazily across the sheets, gilding Taehyung’s bare shoulders as he shrugged into his uniform. Seokjin watched from the bed, propped up on one elbow, his gaze tracing the familiar lines of Taehyung’s body --- the scars, the taut muscle, and the way his hands moved with practiced efficiency as he fastened each button.
“You know,” Seokjin mused, voice still sleep rough, “if you keep looking that good in uniform, I might just have to sabotage your deployment.”
Taehyung smirked, glancing over his shoulder. “Tempting. But court martial isn’t really my idea of foreplay.”
He laughed, stretching like a cat before letting his hand drift absently over his stomach. “Pity. I was hoping you would stay and help me with-”
Taehyung’s eyes darkened. “You are playing dirty today.”
“Always,” he grinned, tilting his chin up. “Come here. You’re not leaving without a proper goodbye.”
Taehyung crossed the room in three strides, caging Seokjin against the mattress with his arms. His breath was warm against his lips. “Define proper.”
Seokjin arched up, brushing their mouths together in a teasing, barely there kiss. “You’re the expert, Captain.”
A growl rumbled in Taehyung’s chest before he captured Seokjin’s lips properly, deep and claiming. He melted into it, fingers tangling in Taehyung’s hair, pulling him closer like he could erase the distance before it even began.
When they finally broke apart, Taehyung pressed his forehead to his, breathing hard. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
He traced the sharp line of Taehyung’s jaw. “Promises, promises.”
Taehyung nipped at his fingertips before standing with a reluctant sigh. “Behave while I’m gone.”
His smile softened. “No guarantees.”
“Stop looking at me like that,” Taehyung murmured, his dog tags around his neck catching the light and flashing against his skin.
“Like what?” His voice was rough with sleep, with something deeper.
“Like I’m not coming back.” His hands framed Seokjin’s face, thumbs brushing the delicate skin beneath his eyes. “I always come back to you.”
Seokjin’s breath hitched. He curled his fingers around Taehyung’s wrists, anchoring himself. “Promise?”
The kiss Taehyung pressed to his lips was answer enough --- slow and deep and tasting of coffee and home.
When they parted, Seokjin’s mouth tingled.
“Next leave,” Taehyung murmured against his skin, lips trailing down his jaw, “I’m taking you to that seaside town you like. No phones. No uniforms. Just you and me and that terrible wine you-”
Seokjin cut him off with another kiss, pouring everything he couldn’t say into it. His hands fisted in Taehyung’s shirt, wrinkling the freshly pressed fabric.
Taehyung chuckled, pulling back. “Now you’re just trying to make me late.”
“Maybe.”
He smirked, but it wobbled at the edges. His fingers drifted unconsciously once again to his stomach, stopping just short of touching. The secret sat heavy in his chest, a stone sinking deeper with every passing day.
The front door clicked shut behind Taehyung with finality.
Seokjin stood frozen in the sudden silence, his palm pressed flat against his abdomen.
It’s been four weeks since he knew.
The doctor’s words echoed in his head --- “Congratulations, Doctor. You’re four weeks along.” --- just as the first wave of nausea hit.
The bathroom tiles were cool against his forehead when he finally lifted his head from the toilet. Seokjin caught his reflection in the mirror --- pale, dark circles under his eyes, and a sheen of sweat on his brow.
He looked like hell.
His phone buzzed on the counter.
[Made it to base. I left something for you in the nightstand. Don’t open it until tonight. - T]
The small velvet box burned in Seokjin’s hands.
He didn’t need to open it to know what was inside.
He had seen the way Taehyung’s fingers twitched toward his pocket at odd moments these past weeks, the secretive glances when he thought Seokjin wasn’t looking.
He snapped the box shut, his breath coming too fast.
The email notification on his laptop screen glared up at him.
Doctors Without Borders: Application Accepted12 hours until departure.
The packing was methodical.
Clothes.
Medical texts.
The emergency contact form where he had scrawled In case of emergency, notify: Kim Taehyung before scratching it out three times.
At the airport, Seokjin hesitated with his phone in hand. The message draft stared back at him --- There’s something you should know. --- before he deleted it.
The ring box remained on their bedside table, centered perfectly on Taehyung’s folded note.
For when I get home. - S
Seokjin’s fingers hovered over his stomach as the plane lifted off. Somewhere below, Taehyung would return to an empty apartment, an unopened ring, and a positive pregnancy test still hidden in the bathroom trash.
The flight attendant offered him a blanket, but he shook his head, turning his face to the window where the city lights blurred into streaks of gold.
Some promises could not be kept with words.
Some goodbyes needed to be written in silence.
As the distance between them stretched into miles, into continents, he pressed his hand to the secret beneath his ribs and wondered if some loves were destined to exist in the spaces between hellos and goodbyes.
The base never truly slept.
Taehyung lay on his bunk, one arm tucked behind his head, staring at the cracks in the ceiling which formed into constellations if you looked at them long enough.
His phone glowed in the dark --- seventeen unanswered calls, twenty-three unread messages, all to the same contact.
Jinnie 💝
The last text he had received was four days ago.
[Had to go. I’ll explain when I can. Wait for me.]
Taehyung’s thumb hovered over the call button again.
The rational part of his brain knew Seokjin was probably buried under a mountain of charts at the hospital, the resident hours were brutal, and this was not the first time he had forgotten to charge his phone during a long shift.
But the irrational part, the part which had seen too much, lost too much, whispered that something was wrong.
He pressed call.
“The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable-”
Taehyung ended the call with a sharp exhale, tossing his phone onto the thin mattress. It bounced once before landing screen up, Seokjin’s smiling face frozen in his contact photo --- sunlight in his hair, scrubs rumpled after a thirty-six-hour shift, holding up two fingers behind Taehyung’s head as he tried to take a serious selfie.
“Where the hell are you?” Taehyung whispered to the empty barracks.
DAY FIVE
“Captain Kim.”
Taehyung straightened instantly at Colonel Jung’s voice, snapping off a crisp salute. “Sir.”
Colonel Jung studied him with sharp eyes, taking in the shadows beneath Taehyung’s eyes and the tension in his jaw. “You look like shit.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Colonel Jung snorted, gesturing for Taehyung to follow him into his office. The space was sparse --- a desk, two chairs, and a wall of monitors displaying various security feeds. “I assume this is about your missing boyfriend?”
Taehyung’s fingers twitched at his sides. “He’s not missing, Sir. Just-”
“Unreachable for 120 hours?” Colonel Jung raised an eyebrow. “You’ve called his parents. Your parents. Even that intern he works with... what’s her name? Park?”
“Jiwoo,” Taehyung corrected automatically, then winced.
Colonel Jung leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers.
“I pulled some strings. I checked the hospital records.” He paused. “Kim Seokjin hasn’t shown up for his shifts in five days.”
The floor tilted beneath Taehyung’s feet.
Seokjin would never just abandon his patients.
Never.
“Sir, I need-”
“Denied,” he cut him off. “Whatever leave request you are about to make, it’s denied.” He slid a folder across the desk. “You have a mission. It wheels up in six hours.”
Taehyung didn’t move. “Sir, with all due respect-”
“Captain.” Colonel Jung’s voice softened, but just barely. “If something happened to him, we will find out. But right now, your country needs you more than your boyfriend does.”
The words landed like a physical blow.
Taehyung forced his hands to unclench, forced himself to reach for the folder. “Mission details, Sir?”
“It’s top secret. A humanitarian aid convoy in Syria.” He hesitated. ”Doctors Without Borders is running point on medical.”
Taehyung’s head snapped up.
Colonel Jung met his gaze evenly. “Coincidence, I’m sure.”
The apartment was too quiet.
Taehyung stood in the doorway, duffel bag still slung over his shoulder, taking in the untouched space.
Seokjin’s favorite mug sat clean in the drying rack. The blanket they had argued over --- “It’s hideous, Tae, we are not keeping it!” --- was folded neatly on the couch.
Everything was in its place.
Except Kim Seokjin.
Taehyung moved through the rooms like a ghost, fingers trailing over surfaces, searching for clues. The bedroom smelled faintly of Seokjin’s shampoo, the scent clinging stubbornly to the pillows.
That’s when he saw it.
The velvet box sat centered perfectly on his nightstand, a single folded note beneath it. Taehyung’s hands shook as he picked it up, the hinges creaking softly as he opened it.
The ring glinted in the low light --- simple, elegant, so perfectly Seokjin that it hurt.
For when I get home. - S
Taehyung’s breath left him in a rush. He flipped open the note with numb fingers, expecting --- what? An explanation? A goodbye?
But the page was blank.
Just like Seokjin’s side of the closet.
Just like his toothbrush holder.
Just like his half of the bed.
Taehyung sank onto the mattress, the ring box heavy in his palm. Outside, the first hints of dawn painted the sky in pale pinks and golds. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed.
His phone buzzed.
[Colonel Jung: Wheels up in 90. Don’t be late.]
Taehyung pocketed the ring, his jaw setting into a hard line.
He had a mission to complete.
And then... then he would find Jin.
The war room’s fluorescent lights buzzed like angry hornets, casting harsh shadows across the satellite images pinned to the tactical board. Taehyung stood motionless at parade rest, his body rigid while his mind raced ahead to all the worst possible scenarios. The briefing hadn’t even started yet, but the tension in the room already tasted metallic on his tongue.
Colonel Jung entered with a tablet clutched in one hand, his boots echoing sharply against the concrete floor.
“At 0300 local time,” he began without preamble, “a Doctors Without Borders convoy was ambushed here-” His pointer tapped against a stretch of bomb-pocked road just outside Aleppo. “Twelve personnel. Three confirmed dead at the scene.”
A muscle in Taehyung’s jaw jumped. He kept his breathing even, his expression neutral, but his nails bit crescent moons into his palms.
“Survivors?” Sergeant Kang asked what Taehyung could not.
“Seven taken hostage.” Colonel Jung switched to an aerial view of an abandoned factory complex. “Local militia. They are demanding medical supplies and safe passage.”
The junior operatives shifted restlessly.
Taehyung remained perfectly still, his focus laser sharp on the colonel’s next words.
“The partial manifest recovered from the lead vehicle.” He adjusted his glasses. “Dr. Lee Minho, pediatric surgery. Nurse Ahn Yuna. Volunteer interpreter Choi--” Then the name which turned Taehyung’s blood to ice. “Dr. Kim Seokjin, trauma specialist.”
The room tilted.
Taehyung’s vision tunneled, the sounds of the briefing fading beneath the sudden roar of blood in his ears.
Seokjin --- his Seokjin --- wasn’t just missing.
He was in enemy hands, trapped in a warzone.
A sharp elbow to his ribs from Sergeant Kang brought him back. Taehyung blinked, forcing his expression into something resembling professional detachment even as his pulse hammered against his dog tags.
“Wheels up in thirty,” Colonel Jung announced. “Standard extraction protocol. Captain Kim--” He waited until the others had filed out before continuing. “You’re off this op.”
Taehyung’s head snapped up. “Sir?”
“You’re compromised.” Colonel Jung’s voice softened. “That’s your-”
“My team needs me,” he cut in, steel in his tone. “Those doctors need extraction. Personal feelings don’t enter into it.”
They stared each other down --- two soldiers who had seen too much and lost too much. Finally, Colonel Jung exhaled through his nose. “Don’t make me regret this.”
The C-130′s engines whined to life, their vibrations traveling up through Taehyung’s boots as he checked his gear for the third time. His fingers lingered on the extra tourniquet --- the one Seokjin had teased him about during their last video call.
“Planning to get shot, Captain?” Seokjin’s laugh had crinkled his eyes in the way Taehyung loved.
His phone buzzed --- another failed call to Seokjin.
The voicemail icon mocked him with its cheerful red dot.
“You’ve reached Kim Seokjin! Leave a message and-”
Taehyung ended the call with a savage swipe.
“Captain Kim.” Sergeant Kang approached, adjusting his helmet strap. “The factory schematics confirm two viable entry points. Hostages are likely being held in the basement level.”
Taehyung nodded, his mind already mapping the approach. “Snipers here and here. Minimal engagement. We’re there for the doctors, not a firefight.”
Kang hesitated. “Sir... about Dr. Kim--”
“Is there a problem, Sergeant?” The ice in Taehyung’s voice could have frozen the desert sands.
“No, Sir. Just... we will get him out.”
Taehyung clapped him on the shoulder, grateful for the unspoken solidarity. ”All of them.”
The plane’s ramp began closing with a hydraulic whine.
Taehyung took one last look at the sliver of moon hanging low over the base.
Somewhere beneath the same moon, Seokjin was scared and possibly hurt.
His hand drifted to his chest pocket, where a velvet ring box lay nestled against his dog tags.
A promise he had never gotten to make.
As the aircraft taxied down the runway, he whispered words he had never say in front of his men, “Please be safe.”
Turbulence jolted the plane, rattling equipment and nerves alike.
Taehyung reviewed the mission parameters again, though he had memorized every detail hours ago --- the factory layout, enemy positions, estimated hostiles.
And the hostages.
Always, the hostages.
One in particular.
He pulled up Seokjin’s file on his tablet, though he didn’t need to. He knew every detail by heart --- height, weight, blood type. The way his nose scrunched when he concentrated. The soft sounds he made when Taehyung-
He shut the file with a grimace.
Now wasn’t the time.
”ETA fifteen mikes!" the pilot called over comms.
The squad stirred, performing last-minute checks. Taehyung stood, addressing his team.
“These are civilians --- doctors, nurses, volunteers. Our job is to get them out alive.” He met each man’s eyes. “Clean extraction. Understood?”
A chorus of ”Yes, Sir, Captain!” echoed through the cabin.
The red light above the ramp began flashing --- five minutes out.
Taehyung’s gut churned, the same primal instinct screaming something was wrong.
More wrong than a standard hostage situation.
He thought of Seokjin’s last text.
[Had to go. I’ll explain when I can. Wait for me.]
Had he known how dangerous this would be?
The plane dipped sharply, beginning its descent. Taehyung secured his helmet, his world narrowing to the mission ahead.
Somewhere below, Seokjin was waiting.
Taehyung would tear the world apart to reach him.
The ramp lowered with a hiss, revealing a starless night. Heat and the acrid stench of burning trash washed over Taehyung as he jogged onto the tarmac of Forward Operating Base Omega.
A lieutenant rushed forward. “Captain Kim? Briefing in Tent Three. The situation’s deteriorated.”
Inside the command tent, a grainy drone feed showed the factory now swarming with additional gunmen.
“Hostiles have doubled,” the lieutenant explained. “Intercepted chatter about moving prisoners at dawn.”
Sergeant Kang cursed. “They are going to execute them.”
Taehyung’s fingers dug into the map table. “We go now. Revised plan-”
Jin needed to be alive.
And nothing --- not militias, not orders, not hell itself --- would stop him now.
