♡ Part - 27 ♡

The Morning After – Unspoken Tension

The golden hues of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The warmth of the morning sun slowly began to stir Jimin from his deep sleep. His eyelashes fluttered as he shifted slightly, only to feel something firm and warm wrapped around him.

His eyes opened groggily, adjusting to the light, and that’s when he realized—he was in Yoongi’s embrace.

His body tensed instantly.

Yoongi’s arms were securely wrapped around his waist, his face buried in Jimin’s hair, and his breaths were steady against the younger’s temple. Their bodies were pressed together so closely that Jimin could feel the slow rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest against his back.

His heart pounded.

"W-What…?" he whispered under his breath, his mind racing.

He had fallen asleep alone last night, hadn’t he? So when did Yoongi…?

Jimin carefully turned his head slightly to glance at the older man, only to find Yoongi still deep in sleep. His usual cold and unreadable face was now relaxed, his lips slightly parted, his dark lashes fanning over his cheeks. He looked… peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Jimin gulped, unsure of what to do. He felt trapped—physically and emotionally. His mind screamed at him to move away, to put distance between them, but his body refused to budge. Yoongi's hold on him was strong, almost as if he was afraid Jimin would disappear if he let go.

His heart ached at the thought.

"I need to get up," he muttered to himself, carefully placing his hands on Yoongi’s arm, trying to pry it off. But as soon as he moved—

"Don’t."

Jimin froze.

The deep, husky voice sent shivers down his spine. He swallowed nervously as he felt Yoongi shift behind him.

The older man didn’t open his eyes, but his grip on Jimin tightened.

"Just stay a little longer." Yoongi’s voice was thick with sleep, almost vulnerable.

Jimin’s breath hitched. His mind was screaming at him, telling him to protest, to push the man away—but his heart? His heart betrayed him.

For a few moments, he just lay there, unmoving.

But then reality hit him like a wave.

No. He couldn’t do this.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly wriggled out of Yoongi’s hold, ignoring the way his chest tightened when the warmth of the older man disappeared.

"I should go freshen up," he whispered, forcing his voice to sound normal as he slipped out of bed.

Yoongi finally opened his eyes, watching as Jimin grabbed his clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. His gaze darkened slightly, his jaw clenching.

He could sense it.

Jimin was still keeping his distance from him.

And for some reason… it bothered him more than it should.

The morning air was filled with the delicious aroma of freshly cooked food as Jimin stood in the kitchen, carefully plating the dishes. But his mind was elsewhere—lingering on what had happened that morning. Yoongi’s embrace, his deep voice asking him to stay a little longer, the warmth that Jimin wasn’t sure if he wanted or feared.

He shook his head quickly, pushing away the thoughts. It doesn’t mean anything.

Just then, a sudden knock on the door startled him out of his daze. Wiping his hands on a cloth, he hurried toward the entrance, wondering who it could be. As he opened the door, his eyes widened in shock.

"Mom? Dad?" Jimin gasped, his lips parting in surprise.

A warm smile stretched across Mrs. Min’s face before she pulled Jimin into a tight hug.

"Oh, my baby, I missed you so much!" she said, her voice full of affection.

Jimin immediately hugged her back, a genuine smile forming on his face for the first time in days. He felt a familiar comfort in her embrace—the warmth of a mother’s love. After pulling away, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, making her chuckle before she kissed his forehead in return.

"Oh, so all the love is for your mother only, huh?" Mr. Min spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest with a fake pout.

Mrs. Min turned to him with an amused expression. "Of course! He loves me more than you," she teased, wrapping an arm around Jimin’s shoulders and gently squeezing his cheeks.

Jimin giggled softly at their playful banter before stepping toward his father. "That’s not true, Dad. I love you too, and I missed you both so much."

Mr. Min’s expression softened as he pulled Jimin into a tight embrace, patting his back before kissing his forehead. "We missed you too, son."

Just as they all stepped inside the living room, footsteps hurried down the stairs.

"Mom? Dad?" Jungkook’s voice rang out in excitement. His eyes widened before a bright smile took over his face. "You’re here! What a pleasant surprise!"

He rushed toward them, hugging his mother tightly.

"Oh, my Kookie!" Mrs. Min cooed, rubbing his back affectionately.

Jungkook pulled back, his eyes gleaming with happiness as he turned to hug his father. "I missed you both so much. Thanks for coming!"

"We missed you too, son," Mr. Min said warmly, patting Jungkook’s back.

Once everyone settled on the couch, Mrs. Min turned to Jimin with a concerned expression. "Jimin, my baby, how have you been?"

Jimin stiffened slightly, but he quickly forced a smile. "I’m fine, Mom," he replied, though the slight tightness in his voice betrayed him.

He wasn’t fine. He wanted to say it. He wanted to tell them everything—but he couldn't.

Mrs. Min studied his face for a moment as if sensing something, but before she could ask more, Jimin quickly stood up.

"Mom, Dad, Kookie, you all talk. I’ll bring coffee for you guys," he said softly, offering them another small smile before walking toward the kitchen.

Mrs. Min sighed but nodded. "Okay, baby."

Just then, another voice joined the conversation.

"Mom!" Taehyung called out as he walked downstairs. His eyes lit up when he saw his in-laws. "Dad!"

Mrs. Min turned toward him with an affectionate smile. "Oh, my Tae baby!" she exclaimed, standing up to hug him.

Taehyung hugged her back tightly before greeting his father. "It’s so good to see you both!"

"It’s good to see you too, son," Mr. Min said with a warm smile.

They all began chatting about random things, laughter filling the room as Jimin soon returned with a tray of coffee. He carefully placed the mugs in front of them, making sure everyone had their favorite.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Mrs. Min said gratefully.

Jimin smiled. "Guys, breakfast is ready. You all sit, I’ll serve the food." He was about to head to the kitchen when his mother-in-law suddenly stopped him.

"Wait, Jimin," she said, tilting her head slightly. "Where’s Yoongi?"

Jimin’s body tensed for a second. Of course. He should have expected this question.

He swallowed thickly before forcing another small smile. "He’s… in the bedroom. I think he’s still sleeping."

Mrs. Min frowned slightly. "Still? That’s unusual. I thought he was always an early riser."

Jimin’s hands fidgeted slightly. "Umm… maybe he was tired from work."

"Chim you go and wake your husband up till then I will set the table". Taehyung declared with a genuine smile.

Jimin hesitated, glancing at Taehyung with slightly widened eyes. Did he just tell him to wake up Yoongi?

No way. Absolutely not.

He didn’t even like talking to his so-called husband, let alone waking him up like some doting partner. But with his in-laws sitting right there, watching, he couldn’t possibly refuse.

Swallowing down his frustration, he forced a small nod and turned on his heel, making his way toward Yoongi’s room.

His steps were slow, hesitant.

With each passing second, his mind raced with thoughts.

Why do I have to do this? Why me?

But he had no choice. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the doorknob and pushed the door open.

And then—

He froze.

His breath hitched in his throat, and his heart pounded so hard it hurt.

Yoongi was standing there, fresh out of the shower, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

Jimin’s entire body burned.

Cheeks? Crimson.

Ears? Red as a cherry.

Mind? A complete mess.

His eyes widened to the size of saucers, and before his brain could even process the scene in front of him, he whipped around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

“O-Oh my God—” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut.

The room was eerily silent for a second.

Then—

A deep, amused chuckle filled the air.

Yoongi had been casually drying his hair when he heard the door open, and the second he spotted Jimin standing there, red-faced and panicked, his lips curled into a knowing smirk.

He didn’t miss the way Jimin had instantly turned away, hands clenched at his sides, as if terrified to even glance at him again.

Amused, Yoongi set the towel down and took slow, deliberate steps toward his flustered husband.

Jimin stiffened when he heard the approaching footsteps.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

Before he could react, warm arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

Jimin shivered.

His breath hitched when he felt Yoongi’s bare chest press against his clothed back, the contrast of their skin sending an unfamiliar shudder down his spine.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Yoongi whispered, his voice deep and laced with amusement.

Jimin’s hands clenched into fists.

“L-Let go,” he stammered, but his voice lacked conviction.

Yoongi ignored his weak protest. Instead, he leaned in further, his nose brushing against Jimin’s neck.

A sharp inhale—Yoongi’s arms tightening ever so slightly.

“Mmm… you smell sweet,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over Jimin’s skin.

Jimin sucked in a sharp breath.

His body—his traitorous body—betrayed him. His head tilted slightly, giving more access before he even realized what he was doing.

Oh God.

Yoongi smirked against his skin, his fingers slipping beneath Jimin’s shirt, grazing over his waist.

Jimin quivered.

His knees felt weak. His mind was screaming at him to push Yoongi away, but his body… his body was leaning into the touch, aching for more.

He hated this man.

He hated how his touch made his heart race.

But at that moment, nothing else mattered except the feeling of Yoongi’s fingers burning into his skin.

Then—

“JIMIN?!”

A loud, utterly shocked voice shattered the moment.

Jimin’s eyes flew open, his entire body going rigid.

Taehyung.

Taehyung was standing in the doorway, mouth hanging open, eyes as wide as saucers.

Jimin’s stomach dropped.

His best friend just caught him—

In Yoongi’s arms.

With Yoongi touching him.

With Yoongi’s face buried in his neck.

Oh. My. God.

Panic surged through him like a tidal wave, and with a startled gasp, he shoved Yoongi away so hard that Yoongi actually took a step back, clearly not expecting the sudden force.

Yoongi blinked, his smirk faltering for just a second before amusement danced in his dark eyes again.

Meanwhile, Jimin stood frozen, his entire body burning with guilt and embarrassment.

What just happened?

Why did he let that happen?

Why did he react like that?

Taehyung, now beet red, turned around so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet.

"I—I didn’t see anything! I swear I didn’t—!!” he babbled, covering his face with his hands.

Jimin, still dazed and flustered, turned back to Yoongi, who was now watching him with a lazy smirk.

“Well, that was fun,” Yoongi drawled, running a hand through his damp hair.

Jimin’s eyes twitched.

"YOU—SHUT UP!" he shrieked, pointing a shaky finger at him.

Taehyung stood frozen for a moment, eyes darting between Jimin and Yoongi, before clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Umm, Chim… breakfast is ready. Mom and Dad are waiting for both of you. Please come down fast." His voice was unusually timid, as if he was forcing himself to speak normally.

Jimin didn’t move.

He couldn’t. His feet felt like they were cemented to the floor.

Taehyung awkwardly scratched the back of his neck before adding in a rushed tone, "And also… I'm really sorry for disturbing you guys. I should have knocked before opening the door. I’m sorry!"

Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel and bolted out of the room, his ears still burning red.

Jimin remained rooted in place, his head hanging low. His hands clenched into trembling fists, his breath uneven.

Regret.

Guilt.

Embarrassment.

All three emotions clawed at his chest, suffocating him.

Regret—because he had let it happen. He had allowed his husband to touch him, to hold him, to make him feel things he never should have felt.

Guilt—because, despite everything, he had enjoyed it. He hated Yoongi. He despised this marriage. And yet, in those stolen moments, his body had betrayed him.

Embarrassment—because Taehyung had seen. His best friend had witnessed him falling apart in his husband's embrace. What must Taehyung be thinking of him now?

Jimin’s vision blurred as hot tears welled in his eyes.

Why? Why does this always happen?

He sucked in a shaky breath, his entire body tense—so lost in his turmoil that he didn’t even notice Yoongi moving closer.

Yoongi, who had stumbled back slightly from Jimin’s earlier push, had been silently watching the younger. He saw the way Jimin's shoulders shook slightly, the way his fingers trembled at his sides. And when he caught the sight of a single tear rolling down his soft cheek, something in his chest tightened.

Why is he crying?

He stepped forward instinctively, his large hands cupping Jimin’s cheeks, wiping away the fallen tear with his thumb.

Jimin flinched at the contact.

Then—

He snapped.

"Don't touch me!" Jimin hissed, his voice laced with anger and something deeper—pain.

He jerked away, stepping back, his eyes burning with unshed tears as he glared at Yoongi with nothing but hatred.

"Haven’t I warned you before?! Haven’t I told you to keep your filthy hands off me?!"

His voice cracked at the end, betraying the storm raging inside him.

Yoongi just watched him.

His expression was unreadable—his dark eyes calculating yet calm, as if he was trying to understand Jimin rather than retaliate.

Jimin was seething, but he was also breaking.

He wanted to scream, to push Yoongi further away, but before he could—

Yoongi moved.

Swiftly.

Effortlessly closing the distance, grabbing him by the waist, pulling him in.

Jimin let out a sharp gasp, his hands pressing against Yoongi’s chest, but his strength was nothing compared to the older man's.

"Let. Me. Go." Jimin gritted out, but Yoongi ignored him.

Instead, he reached up, his thumb tracing the lingering wetness on Jimin’s cheek before tilting his chin up gently.

"You’re crying," Yoongi murmured, his voice so soft, so unlike the cold, ruthless man Jimin had always seen him as.

Jimin swallowed thickly, his breath uneven.

He wanted to push him away.

But his body betrayed him. Again.

His heart slammed against his ribs as Yoongi leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead.

Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut.

His body relaxed. His ragged breaths evened out, his tense shoulders loosening as warmth flooded through him.

Why?

Why did this simple touch feel… different?

Why did he feel like melting instead of running away?

When Yoongi finally pulled back, his arms slowly falling away from Jimin's waist, there was a flicker of something unreadable in his dark eyes.

Jimin staggered backward, clutching his shirt over his wildly beating heart.

He needed to leave. He needed to get out of there.

Jimin stood frozen in place, his heart still racing from the events that had unfolded just moments ago. He couldn’t believe he had allowed himself to get lost in Yoongi’s touch, even for a second. His cheeks still felt warm, and the feeling of Yoongi’s breath on his neck lingered like a phantom sensation.

He clenched his fists, shaking off the thoughts. It was nothing. He wouldn’t let it affect him.

“First, wash your face,” Yoongi’s deep voice cut through the air, making Jimin snap out of his daze. “Then go downstairs. I’ll come once I’m ready.”

Jimin blinked, watching as his husband disappeared into the walk-in closet without another word.

He exhaled sharply, trying to suppress the unfamiliar flutter in his chest before making his way to the bathroom. Cold water. That’s what I need.

By the time Jimin made his way downstairs, everyone was already seated at the dining table. The delicious aroma of freshly prepared food filled the room, but his stomach felt too knotted to appreciate it.

As he entered, all eyes turned to him.

Jimin stiffened, his gaze automatically landing on Taehyung.

His best friend—who had walked in on him in that compromising situation with Yoongi.

A wave of embarrassment washed over Jimin, making him instinctively lower his gaze. He could only imagine what Taehyung must have thought when he saw them. Would he ask questions? Would he tease him?

But to his surprise, Taehyung simply smiled—a warm, genuine smile, as if silently telling Jimin, “It’s okay. No judgment.”

Jimin’s tense shoulders relaxed just a little. He nodded in acknowledgment before quietly taking his seat.

Moments later, Yoongi entered the room.

His presence alone was commanding, effortlessly drawing everyone’s attention. With his usual air of quiet confidence, he walked over to his parents.

“Yoongi, my son,” Mrs. Min beamed, standing up to embrace him. “You look as handsome as ever.”

Yoongi let out a small chuckle, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his mother’s forehead. “You always say that, Mom.”

“Well, it’s always true,” she teased, patting his cheek affectionately.

Mr. Min clapped his son’s shoulder with a proud nod. “I assume everything is going well?”

“As always,” Yoongi replied smoothly before finally taking his seat—right beside Jimin.

Jimin immediately straightened his back, keeping his focus on his plate.

The family began eating, light conversation filling the room. The atmosphere was comfortable, but Jimin still felt uneasy. He could still feel Yoongi’s presence beside him—his warmth.

Just when he thought he could get through the meal in peace, Mrs. Min suddenly turned to him.

“Jimin, dear,” she called sweetly. “What took you so long to come down?”

Jimin froze.

His fingers tightened around his chopsticks as panic surged through him. Before he could even attempt to come up with a response—

He choked.

A sharp cough tore through his throat as he struggled to breathe, his face flushing in embarrassment.

“Chim!” Taehyung reacted immediately, reaching over to hand him a glass of water while rubbing his back. “Drink this.”

Jimin hurriedly took the glass, gulping down the water as quickly as possible. His entire body burned with mortification as he felt everyone’s concerned gazes on him—except for Yoongi, who was still calmly eating, seemingly unfazed.

But then, a warm hand wrapped around Jimin’s wrist.

Jimin’s breath hitched.

He turned slightly, only to find Yoongi rubbing soothing circles on his skin—a silent attempt to calm him.

Jimin’s heart stuttered. Why was he doing this?

Flustered, he quickly pulled his hand away, gripping the fabric of his shirt instead. “S-Sorry, Mom,” he stammered. “I was… um…”

Taehyung immediately stepped in to rescue him.

“Chim was helping Hyung find an important file,” he said smoothly, throwing Jimin a reassuring glance. “That’s why he got a little late.”

Jimin nodded quickly. “Y-Yeah, that’s right.”

Mrs. Min hummed in understanding. “Oh, I see. Well, next time, don’t skip breakfast, alright?”

Jimin forced a small smile. “Yes, Mom.”

The conversation shifted again, and Jimin exhaled in relief.

But just when he thought he could finally breathe, he felt Yoongi’s gaze on him—steady and unreadable.

Jimin refused to look up. He refused to acknowledge the way his heart was still racing.

Why did Yoongi’s touch affect him so much?

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