Left alone, Jimin released a shaky sigh, his body still tingling with the remnants of humiliation. The weight of embarrassment pressed down on his chest, threatening to consume him. He could still feel the ghost of Yoongi’s touch on his skin, the warmth of those strong arms that had lifted him so effortlessly.
Oh my god, what have I done?
Jimin groaned, burying his face in his hands, his ears burning with the memory of his own clumsiness. He could still see Yoongi’s gaze, the way it had flickered with amusement before concern took over.
He saw me naked…
The thought alone made his stomach twist.
How am I supposed to face him now?
His heart pounded relentlessly, the echoes of his own mortification replaying like a broken record. The more he thought about it, the more he felt like curling into a ball and ceasing to exist.
But no matter how much he wished for the earth to swallow him whole, reality was cruel.
He had to face Yoongi.
His husband.
Oh my fucking god, give me some courage and strength.
Jimin’s hands fisted at his sides, his nails digging into his palms in an effort to ground himself. He couldn’t hide forever. He wasn’t a kid.
With a deep inhale, he forced himself to move, his legs carrying him toward the small suitcase where his clothes were packed. His fingers trembled as he reached for a simple oversized sweater and a pair of jeans, slipping them on hurriedly as if dressing faster would somehow erase the memory of his earlier catastrophe.
The feeling of fabric against his skin provided the smallest semblance of comfort, yet the lingering warmth of his flushed skin refused to fade.
Once dressed, Jimin stood before the mirror, staring at his reflection.
His cheeks were still stained pink, his lips pressed into a thin line. His dark eyes flickered with uncertainty, his posture tense.
I can’t let this ruin everything.
With a final exhale, Jimin made his decision.
Face it.
Pushing open the door ever so slightly, he peeked out cautiously. The hallway was quiet, save for the distant murmur of voices.
Yoongi was nowhere in sight.
Jimin released a breath of relief before stepping out, his feet carrying him towards the café area where his friends were.
The air outside the room felt lighter, but his nerves still tingled with anticipation. Every step he took felt like walking towards his doom, but he held his head high, determined to push through his mortification.
As the café area came into view, he spotted Taehyung and Jungkook seated at a table, laughing over something. Their carefree energy was so inviting, so normal, that for a moment, Jimin felt his heart settle.
He desperately needed that normalcy.
With a final inhale, he squared his shoulders and approached them, praying Yoongi wouldn’t say anything that would reignite the embarrassment burning within him.
Hiding Behind a Mask
Jimin’s feet felt like lead as he approached the table where Taehyung, Jungkook, and Yoongi sat together. The chatter around him blurred, his focus narrowing on the three figures ahead. His heart pounded, his nerves twisting into knots as he forced himself forward, his face partially concealed by the mask he wore.
I can do this. Just act normal.
He swallowed hard as he took a seat beside Yoongi, deliberately keeping a slight distance. The air around him felt charged, heavy with unspoken emotions, but he masked his turmoil with a strained smile, hoping no one would notice the lingering embarrassment still burning within him.
It didn’t take long for Taehyung to catch on.
The moment his best friend’s sharp eyes landed on him, Jimin knew he was doomed.
“Chim, what happened? Why are you wearing a mask?” Taehyung’s voice dripped with concern, his brows furrowing in confusion.
Jimin felt his pulse spike, his mind scrambling for an excuse.
“Umm, actually… cold. Yeah, I caught a cold. That’s why.” His voice wavered slightly, but he pressed on, hoping to sound convincing. “And I don’t want you guys to get sick, so I wore a mask for protection, you know.”
The way Tae’s frown deepened made Jimin even more anxious.
“A cold?” Tae repeated, clearly skeptical. “But how did you even catch a cold here? It hasn’t even rained.”
Jimin’s breath hitched.
Shit. Think, think, think!
He forced a chuckle, rubbing his hands together as if emphasizing his point. “Because of the cool weather, Tae,” he blurted out. “It gets chilly in the mornings and nights. You know how sensitive I am to the cold.”
Taehyung’s eyes narrowed slightly, but instead of pressing further, he sighed.
“Oh, okay. But take care, alright?” His voice softened, the warmth of his concern making Jimin’s chest tighten with guilt.
Jimin nodded quickly, grateful Tae let it slide.
But he could still feel Yoongi’s gaze—a quiet, piercing stare burning into the side of his face.
Jimin dared to steal a glance, and his breath hitched when their eyes met.
Yoongi’s expression was unreadable, but his gaze held something… knowing.
He know Jimin was lying.
Heat rushed to Jimin’s cheeks, and he instantly looked away, pretending to adjust his mask.
Before the tension could thicken further, a cheerful voice cut through the moment.
“But, Chim, you have to take your mask off to eat your dinner, right?”
Jungkook.
Jimin turned to see Jungkook grinning innocently, his wide eyes twinkling with mischief as he rested his chin on his hand.
Jimin’s stomach twisted with panic.
“I’m not hungry, actually,” he muttered, eyes glued to his lap, willing the conversation to end there.
Of course, it didn’t.
“No, Chim, you have to eat your dinner.” Tae’s voice turned firm, his concern growing. “You look so weak.”
Jimin felt cornered, the pressure mounting as Tae and Jungkook both stared expectantly.
His fingers trembled as he reached for the mask, slowly pulling it down.
The moment his flushed face was revealed, he kept his gaze down, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.
He felt naked all over again.
The room suddenly felt too warm, every sound amplified. He was hyper-aware of Yoongi’s presence beside him, of the way the older man had yet to say a word.
And that silence?
It was louder than anything else.
Jimin felt small under Taehyung’s gaze—gentle, yet piercing enough to shake his already weak resolve.
“Chim,” Tae’s voice was soft, coaxing, almost like he was trying to lure Jimin into confession. “Why are you looking down? What happened?”
Jimin’s breath hitched, his fingers twitching on the edge of his hoodie sleeves. He hesitated, the internal war visible on his face.
“Nothing,” he mumbled.
Still, he forced himself to meet Tae’s gaze, hoping—praying—that his friend wouldn’t pry any further.
The café buzzed with warmth, the gentle clatter of cutlery and quiet chatter creating a lighthearted atmosphere. At their table, however, the energy was entirely different—one filled with barely suppressed laughter, teasing smirks, and a certain someone burning with embarrassment.
Jimin fidgeted in his seat, feeling ridiculously self-conscious as Taehyung and Jungkook giggled like mischievous schoolboys. His fingers instinctively brushed over his lips, as if trying to shield the swollen evidence of last night’s events.
Were they laughing at that? Did they know?
The thought alone made his stomach churn.
“I knew you guys would laugh, so I wasn’t taking off the mask!” Jimin snapped, his annoyance only fueling their amusement.
The moment he spoke, another round of laughter erupted.
Jungkook, wiping at the tears in his eyes, held up his hands. “Okay, sorry, Chim—” But before he could even finish, another snort escaped him, making Taehyung playfully smack his arm.
“Yah, Kookie! Stop laughing!” Taehyung scolded, though his own smile betrayed him.
Jungkook ducked his head, giggling uncontrollably. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry!”
Jimin groaned, crossing his arms. This was beyond humiliating.
But then—
“Well, that’s alright, but tell me, Chim, what happened to your lips?” Taehyung asked, his tone drenched in fake innocence, though his eyes sparkled with amusement.
Jimin froze.
Oh no. No, no, no.
His heart pounded violently, his throat suddenly dry. Before he could even think of a response, Jungkook gasped dramatically, slapping the table.
“Hey! What kind of question is that? Can’t you see? It’s a love bite!” Jungkook exclaimed.
And just like that, Taehyung burst out laughing again.
Jimin gasped in horror, his face turning impossibly red. “J-Jungkook! What the hell?!”
But the damage was done.
Tae and Jungkook collapsed into another fit of laughter, leaning into each other like they had just discovered the funniest joke in the world.
Across from him, Yoongi sat silently, his fingers tapping against his coffee cup.
Jimin dared to glance at him—
Big mistake.
Because Yoongi’s lips were twitching, and his eyes danced with restrained amusement. The man was clearly struggling to keep a straight face, and Jimin felt like he might actually explode.
“That’s it! If you guys keep laughing like this, I’m leaving!” Jimin huffed, pushing back his chair dramatically.
He stood up, fully intending to walk away, but before he could take a single step—
A firm grip wrapped around his wrist.
Jimin whirled around, only to find Yoongi holding onto him.
“Guys, stop laughing.” Yoongi’s voice was calm yet firm, the amusement from before completely gone. “Jimin, sit down. Nobody will laugh. Have your dinner.”
The shift in tone made Taehyung and Jungkook immediately straighten up, their giggles dying down into quiet snickers.
Tae cleared his throat, still grinning but trying to look innocent. “Yes, Chim, please sit.”
Jungkook nodded eagerly, though his lips still twitched with suppressed laughter. “Yeah, hyung, we’re not laughing anymore. See?”
But the tiny chuckle that followed completely ruined his attempt at sincerity.
Jimin narrowed his eyes.
“Oh yeah, I can totally see that, Jungkook.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
Tae, sensing the danger, quickly jumped in. “Okay, okay! Sorry, Chimchim! Please sit, we’ll behave.”
Yoongi, still holding onto Jimin’s wrist, gave it a small tug, urging him to sit back down.
Jimin huffed, but his heart softened just a little.
With one final glare at his so-called friends, he slumped back into his chair, muttering curses under his breath.
Tae and Jungkook exchanged smirks—and though they tried their best to hold it in, they both knew one thing for sure—
Jimin was never living this down.
They finished their dinner in silence after that and returned to their perspective rooms.
The dinner had ended with soft chatter and lingering laughter, but as they left the café, an undeniable awkwardness settled between Jimin and Yoongi.
With each step toward their respective rooms, Jimin felt his chest tighten. The teasing from Taehyung and Jungkook had finally died down, but the weight of the night still lingered heavily on his shoulders.
And as soon as they stepped into their shared room, an uncomfortable silence wrapped around them like an invisible force.
Jimin’s feet barely crossed the threshold when the memory hit him like a storm—
Him. Naked. Falling. Right in front of his husband.
His eyes went wide as a deep flush spread across his face, horror striking him all over again.
Yoongi had seen him. Completely.
Jimin froze, gripping the doorknob as if he could disappear into thin air.
Yoongi, who had just closed the door behind them, paused, noticing the sudden shift in Jimin’s demeanor.
His gaze flickered toward the younger. "What?"
Jimin’s lips parted, then closed again. No way was he bringing this up.
"Nothing," he muttered quickly, shaking his head violently, trying to erase the memory from his mind.
Yoongi raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Instead, the silence stretched between them, both of them standing in the dimly lit room, not knowing what to say.
Jimin bit his lip. Was this how it was always going to be? A marriage full of misunderstandings and stolen moments that neither of them could talk about?
Just when he thought the night would end on that note, he felt it—
A warm hand wrapping around his wrist.
Jimin’s head snapped up in surprise, only to find Yoongi’s fingers gripping him firmly, yet gently.
"Where are we going?" Jimin asked, blinking at him.
Yoongi didn’t answer immediately. He simply pulled Jimin toward the door, his grip unwavering.
"Somewhere beautiful," he finally said.
Jimin hesitated. "At this time?" He glanced at the clock—it was already late.
But Yoongi simply looked at him, his dark eyes holding something unreadable.
"Trust me."
And somehow, those words were enough.
Without another protest, Jimin allowed himself to be led out of the room, through the quiet corridors of the hotel, and finally outside into the cool night air.
---
T
he salty breeze caressed Jimin’s face, making his hair dance softly as he stepped onto the cool sand.
His lips parted slightly in wonder.
The ocean stretched before him, vast and endless, the waves lapping gently against the shore. The sky above was a breathtaking canvas of twinkling stars, and further ahead, floating lanterns lit up the night, drifting upward like tiny golden dreams.
Jimin’s breath hitched.
"It’s… beautiful."
Beside him, Yoongi watched his reaction closely, his hand still wrapped firmly around Jimin’s.
He had seen countless places in his life—luxurious mansions, expensive penthouses, even hidden paradises meant only for the elite.
But nothing—nothing—compared to the sight of Jimin’s eyes lighting up like this.
Jimin turned to him, his voice softer this time. "Why did you bring me here?"
Yoongi exhaled, his gaze momentarily drifting to the floating lanterns above them.
"Because you looked like you needed it."
Jimin blinked, caught off guard.
He wasn’t sure what he had expected Yoongi to say, but certainly not that.
For a man who had once kidnapped him, hurt him, made him feel like nothing but a pawn in a dangerous game, Yoongi was surprisingly… attentive.
Jimin looked down at their hands, Yoongi’s fingers still intertwined with his.
And for the first time that night, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to let go.
They walked along the shoreline, side by side, their hands still joined, though neither of them addressed it.
Jimin kept stealing glances at Yoongi, his mind unable to comprehend how this was the same man who had once claimed to love him, yet hurt him in the cruelest of ways.
But here, under the moonlit sky, with the sound of waves crashing gently against the shore…
Yoongi wasn’t a mafia leader.
He wasn’t the man who had kidnapped him and forced him into marriage.
Here, Yoongi was simply… someone who brought him to a beautiful place, without expecting anything in return.
The thought made Jimin’s heart clench in a way he wasn’t ready to understand.
"You’re quiet," Yoongi noted, breaking the silence.
Jimin exhaled, looking ahead. "Just thinking."
"About?"
"…Everything."
Yoongi hummed in acknowledgment.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, Jimin suddenly asked, "Do you regret it?"
Yoongi looked at him. "Regret what?"
"Everything you did to me." Jimin met his gaze, searching for an answer in those deep, dark eyes.
A flicker of something crossed Yoongi’s face—regret, guilt, something deeper—but it was gone just as quickly.
Instead, he looked away, his grip on Jimin’s hand tightening slightly.
"I don’t regret meeting you."
The answer wasn’t what Jimin expected—but it was honest.
And maybe, for now, that was enough.
The lanterns floated higher, the waves continued their endless song, and Jimin let himself enjoy the moment—even if he wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring.
The waves whispered against the shore, the lanterns drifting higher, and yet, Jimin's heart was the loudest thing in his ears.
Yoongi’s words still echoed in his mind.
"I don’t regret meeting you."
There was a weight behind them, an unspoken truth that Jimin wasn’t sure he was ready to decipher.
They walked in silence, their fingers still interlaced. It was strange—how natural it felt, despite the complicated mess of emotions between them.
Jimin had spent so much time hating Yoongi, resenting him for what he had done, for forcing him into this marriage, for taking away his choices.
And yet… here he was.
Walking beside the man who had kidnapped him.
Holding his hand.
And—somehow—not pulling away.
Jimin finally broke the silence, his voice soft but steady.
"Why did you bring me here, really?" He glanced at Yoongi, searching his face for any hint of deception.
Yoongi didn’t answer right away. Instead, he exhaled slowly, watching the waves lick the shore before finally speaking.
"Because you looked like you needed a moment to breathe."
Jimin blinked, caught off guard by the sheer honesty in his words.
A part of him wanted to argue, to tell Yoongi that he was the reason he felt suffocated in the first place. But another part of him…
Another part of him was grateful.
He tore his gaze away, staring ahead at the endless stretch of ocean. "I did," he admitted quietly.
Yoongi hummed in response, his thumb unconsciously brushing over Jimin’s knuckles.
Jimin felt it.
The gentle touch. The way Yoongi’s fingers curled just slightly tighter around his own.
It made his chest feel tight, his stomach fluttering with something he didn’t want to name.
Why was Yoongi like this?
Why did he act so soft sometimes, like he actually cared?
Jimin let out a breath, frustration curling inside him. "You’re confusing," he mumbled.
Yoongi turned his head, intrigued. "Am I?"
Jimin scoffed, finally pulling his hand away—not roughly, but enough to put some distance between them.
"Yeah. One moment you’re cruel, and the next… you do things like this." He gestured toward the beach, the lanterns, the serenity of it all.
"Which one is the real you, Yoongi?" His voice was laced with something raw, something vulnerable he hadn’t meant to reveal.
Yoongi stared at him for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable.
Then, in a rare moment of honesty, he murmured,
"I don’t know."
Jimin’s breath caught.
It was the first time Yoongi had ever admitted uncertainty.
And for some reason, it made Jimin’s chest ache.
They stood there, the wind tugging at their clothes, the ocean humming its endless melody.
Jimin didn’t know what to say. What could he say?
So, instead of pushing further, he turned his attention back to the sky.
The floating lanterns continued to rise, golden specks against the deep velvet night.
"Have you ever released one before?" Yoongi asked, breaking the silence.
Jimin shook his head. "No."
Yoongi motioned toward a small vendor nearby, where a few lanterns were still available.
"Come on," he said, already walking toward it.
Jimin hesitated for only a second before following.
The vendor handed them a lantern, and Yoongi pulled out a lighter, his fingers steady as he lit the small flame inside.
Jimin watched the fire flicker, dancing inside the thin paper, ready to take flight.
"Make a wish," Yoongi instructed.
Jimin let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "That’s childish."
Yoongi merely shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Do it anyway."
Jimin sighed but closed his eyes, letting the moment swallow him whole.
He didn’t know what to wish for. Freedom? Understanding? A time machine to undo everything?
But in the end, the only thing that whispered in his heart was—
"I just want to understand why."
When he opened his eyes, Yoongi was already looking at him.
"Ready?"
Jimin nodded, and together, they released the lantern.
It drifted upward, joining the others in the sky, carrying with it all the unspoken words neither of them had the courage to say.
And for the first time in a long while, Jimin felt… light.
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