~Park Jimin~ "A 22-year-old boy residing in a modest village nestled in Busan, shares his home with his devoted mother, their lives coloured by the stark realities of poverty."
~Min Yoongi~ "In the heart of South Korea, Min Yoongi was not a typical...
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The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the Min mansion. Jimin had rested through the afternoon, occasionally opening his eyes to the empty side of the bed and sighing softly. He missed Yoongi more than he wanted to admit.
Even after their intimate morning, the ache in his chest returned the moment Yoongi left. He wandered around the house a bit, spending time with his mother and Yoongi’s grandmother in the garden, sipping tea with Yoongi’s mother in the drawing room. But none of it could truly distract him.
As evening approached, the sky now bathed in a soft amber glow, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway made Jimin’s heart flutter.
He was in the hallway just beyond the staircase when the door opened.
Yoongi stepped inside, loosening the top button of his shirt, black suit still perfectly fitted, his hair slightly tousled from the wind. His tired eyes instantly lit up when they met Jimin’s.
“Baby,” he breathed out, as if he’d been holding it in all day.
“Hyung…” Jimin smiled, and then he was rushing down the stairs. Yoongi dropped his bag and caught him, arms wrapping tightly around Jimin’s waist as he lifted him slightly off the ground.
“I missed you,” Yoongi mumbled against his neck. “I kept checking the time every hour… wishing I could just teleport back to you.”
Jimin clung to him, his arms snug around Yoongi’s neck. “You came back late.”
“I know,” Yoongi pulled back to look into his eyes, “but I’m yours now. For the entire night.”
Jimin softened. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go anywhere else.”
Yoongi smiled, the kind of smile only Jimin ever got to see. “Come on,” he whispered, “let’s go freshen up. Then we’ll have dinner with everyone. After that... I have a little surprise for you.”
Jimin raised a brow, teasing, “Another surprise? You’re spoiling me.”
Yoongi leaned in, brushing their lips together gently. “That’s my job now, husband.”
They headed upstairs hand-in-hand, hearts full — a quiet evening ahead, but wrapped in the warmth of love and the comfort of home.
After a refreshing shower together — filled with soft kisses and sweet laughter — Jimin and Yoongi got dressed and made their way downstairs. The dining room was softly lit with warm golden lights, and the long table was already set, adorned with delicate white flowers and fine china.
Their mothers were already seated, chatting comfortably. Yoongi’s father was reading something on his tablet, while the grandmother was busy complimenting the food the cook had prepared. As soon as Yoongi and Jimin entered, everyone turned to them with smiles.
