♡ Part - 30 ♡

T

he sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the Min mansion as Yoongi’s voice rang out with urgency.

"Come on, we're running late!" he called, his tone sharper than usual, laced with a rare hint of impatience.

"We're coming, Hyung!" Jungkook's voice responded from upstairs, followed by the thudding of footsteps. Moments later, both he and Taehyung appeared at the top of the staircase, hauling their luggage behind them.

Yoongi tapped his foot against the floor, arms crossed as he glanced at his watch. But just as he was about to huff in frustration, his gaze shifted toward the staircase—and froze.

Jimin was descending the stairs, dressed in a soft pink T-shirt that clung to his frame just right, paired with sleek black jeans that accentuated his toned legs. His platinum blond hair fell effortlessly over his forehead, framing his delicate yet striking features.

Yoongi’s grip on his bag faltered.

With a muted thud, his bag slipped from his fingers, landing unceremoniously on the floor.

Jungkook and Taehyung, who had reached the bottom of the stairs, turned their heads at the unexpected sound. "Huh?" Jungkook blinked, shifting his gaze between Yoongi and the dropped bag.

Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t seem to register anything except Jimin.

His usually sharp, calculating eyes widened slightly, betraying his momentary lapse in composure. It wasn’t just the outfit—it was the way Jimin wore it. The soft pink of his shirt contrasted beautifully with his smooth skin, and the black jeans hugged his legs just right. The casual yet effortlessly stylish ensemble made him look both innocently cute and unintentionally seductive.

Yoongi’s lips parted slightly, as if words had formed on his tongue but refused to escape. Damn. He had always known Jimin was attractive, but something about this moment—the casualness, the way the warm glow of the chandelier illuminated him—it caught him off guard.

Jungkook furrowed his brows, his gaze snapping to Yoongi, who remained oddly silent. Then, realization flickered in his eyes as he smirked.

"What happened, Hyung?" Jungkook asked, amusement dripping from his tone.

Yoongi blinked rapidly, snapping out of whatever trance he had momentarily fallen into. He swallowed, clearing his throat as he averted his gaze.

"N-nothing," he stammered, but his eyes betrayed him as they flickered back to Jimin—just for a second too long.

Jungkook’s smirk widened. "Right. Nothing." He dragged out the word teasingly.

Jimin, who had reached the last step, paused at their interaction. He tilted his head, looking between Yoongi and Jungkook, his lips pursing slightly. "What are you two whispering about?" he asked, suspicion lacing his tone.

"Nothing," Yoongi repeated a little too quickly, and Jungkook snorted.

Taehyung, catching on to the situation, chuckled as he grabbed Jungkook’s wrist. "Come on, Kook. We should get going before Hyung actually explodes from flustered denial."

"I'm not flustered," Yoongi grumbled under his breath, but the way he hastily picked up his bag told another story.

Jimin blinked at him, his expression unreadable. Then, with a soft sigh, he walked past Yoongi toward the car.

Yoongi exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he muttered to himself, This is going to be a long trip.

As they made their way outside, an undercurrent of something unspoken lingered in the air—curiosity, amusement, and a quiet admiration that Yoongi wasn’t quite ready to voice.

The soft hum of the engine filled the luxurious car as it smoothly pulled away from the Min mansion. The tinted windows shielded them from the outside world, and the dim lighting inside created an intimate atmosphere. Taehyung and Jungkook, who had taken a separate vehicle, Yoongi and Jimin sat in the backseat of this high-end car, designed for both comfort and privacy.

A delicate curtain separated the driver’s area from the passengers, giving them a secluded space where they wouldn't be overheard or seen. The plush leather seats were cool against Jimin’s skin, and the faint scent of expensive cologne lingered in the air—Yoongi’s cologne.

Jimin sat stiffly, his posture tense as he kept his gaze fixed outside the window, watching the city lights blur past. The reality of this trip was sinking in, and despite his earlier confrontation with Yoongi, here he was—on the way to a so-called honeymoon with the man he feared most.

Yoongi, on the other hand, leaned back against the seat, one leg casually crossed over the other. His fingers drummed lightly against the armrest, his gaze flickering toward Jimin every now and then. He noticed the way Jimin’s hands were clasped tightly on his lap, how his shoulders were slightly hunched. He was anxious.

Breaking the silence, Yoongi sighed. "You’re going to strain your neck if you keep sitting like that, baby." His voice was softer than usual, lacking its usual teasing lilt.

Jimin flinched slightly at the sudden address, but he didn't turn to look at him. "Dont call me that," he muttered under his breath.

Yoongi smirked. "Habit."

A tense silence settled between them again.

The car hit a slight bump, and Jimin instinctively gripped the edge of his seat. Yoongi noticed.

"You’re acting like I’m taking you to a battlefield instead of a honeymoon," Yoongi remarked, watching him intently.

Jimin finally turned to him, his eyes sharp. "A battlefield would be less terrifying than being alone with you," he shot back.

Yoongi’s smirk faltered. It wasn’t the words themselves that affected him—it was the raw honesty in Jimin’s voice.

"You still don’t trust me, do you?" Yoongi asked, tilting his head slightly.

Jimin scoffed, letting out a humorless chuckle. "What do you think, Yoongi? Do you think I should trust you? After everything?"

Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I told you I wouldn’t hurt you."

"You’ve hurt me before," Jimin countered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yoongi fell silent at that. He had no immediate rebuttal.

Jimin shook his head, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window. "I don’t even know why I agreed to this," he muttered, mostly to himself.

Yoongi studied him for a long moment before he finally spoke, his voice quieter than before. "You agreed because deep down, you know I won’t let anything happen to you."

Jimin clenched his jaw, refusing to look at him.

Yoongi sighed again, shifting slightly in his seat. He didn’t like this tension. He wanted to reach out, to make Jimin feel safe, but he knew he had no right to force that feeling onto him.

The journey stretched on in silence, filled with unspoken words and lingering glances. The soft glow of the city lights flickered through the window, painting shadows across Jimin’s face—a face Yoongi wished he could read better.

But for now, he let the silence remain, knowing that trust—if it ever came—would take much more than just words.

As they stood at the airport, ready to depart for Switzerland, the atmosphere was a mix of excitement and bittersweet emotions. Jimin, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jungkook were accompanied by their parents who had come to see them off.

Jimin's mother-in-law held his hand, her eyes glistening with pride and a touch of sadness. "Make sure to take care of yourselves and have a great time," she said, her voice a blend of encouragement and maternal concern.

Their parents exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of pride and longing. "Take lots of photos and cherish every moment," Jungkook's father suggested, his words holding a hint of nostalgia.

Jungkook's parents stood close, a mixture of emotions evident in their eyes. "Stay united and have each other's backs," Jungkook's mother chimed in, her tone carrying a sense of camaraderie.

As the four of them exchanged glances, they shared a mixture of excitement and sadness. Yoongi's eyes met Jimin's, a silent understanding passing between them. Taehyung and Jungkook exchanged a determined nod, reaffirming their commitment to each other.

The parent's words were both a source of strength and a reminder of the bonds they were leaving behind. Amidst the anticipation of the journey ahead, there was a poignant acknowledgement of the love and support that had brought them to this point. With a final round of hugs and well wishes, they embarked on their adventure, their hearts carrying the warmth of their family's blessings.

♡♤♡

I

n-Flight Tension

The cabin of the private jet was dimly lit, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence between them. The seats were plush, arranged in pairs, offering comfort for the long flight ahead. The atmosphere should have been relaxing, but for Jimin, it felt suffocating.

His eyes drifted toward Taehyung, who stood a few feet away with Jungkook, their hands brushing against each other in the most natural way. The sight brought a familiar warmth to Jimin’s heart—a reminder of the bond they shared since childhood. A bond he suddenly felt the need to cling to.

Jimin stepped forward hesitantly. "Tae, I want to sit with you. Can we sit together?" His voice was softer than usual, tinged with something unspoken—a silent plea.

Taehyung turned to him, expression momentarily conflicted. His gaze flickered toward Jungkook, then back to Jimin. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Chim, I want to sit with my Kookie. Please understand," he said, his tone gentle. But then, with a teasing smirk, he added, "Besides, you should sit with your loving and caring husband."

Jimin’s stomach twisted at the words. Loving? Caring?

His fingers curled slightly at his sides. He knew Taehyung was only teasing, but the words stung more than they should have. "But I don’t want to," Jimin muttered under his breath, his reluctance evident.

Taehyung tilted his head. "Why?" His voice was light, but there was curiosity laced within it.

Jimin swallowed, searching for words that wouldn’t betray the turmoil inside him. "Because I want to sit with my best friend," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. His words carried more weight than he intended. He needed Taehyung right now.

But before Taehyung could respond, Jungkook’s voice cut through the moment. "Tae baby, are you coming?" Jungkook’s words were laced with affection, and the way he called for Taehyung made Jimin feel like an outsider in a world that once felt like home.

Taehyung hesitated for only a second before turning back to Jimin, expression apologetic. "I’m sorry, Chim," he said, voice heavy with regret. "Please try to understand."

Jimin forced a small, barely-there smile. "Yeah… of course," he murmured, stepping back.

As Taehyung moved to join Jungkook, Jimin let out a quiet breath, his shoulders sinking slightly. Why should I interfere with Tae’s love life because of my troubles?

He had no right to feel bitter. No right to feel left behind.

But when he turned to see Yoongi watching him, already seated, waiting for him to take his place beside him—Jimin realized that this flight was going to be longer than he had anticipated.

Turbulence of Emotions

Jimin moved back to his seat beside Yoongi, the weight of frustration pressing on his chest. He settled into the plush leather, but the air between them was far from comfortable.

Yoongi’s gaze flickered toward him, sharp yet unreadable. "Where did you go?" His voice wasn’t loud, but there was an edge to it, a demand hidden beneath the seemingly casual inquiry.

Jimin sighed, crossing his arms. "Do I need to tell you everything about wherever I go?" His words dripped with sarcasm, challenging Yoongi’s need for control. He wasn’t a child.

Yoongi’s jaw tensed as he leaned closer. "I'm telling you because I'm your husband," he stated firmly, his voice laced with authority. "That means I’m entitled to know where you are and what you're doing."

Jimin scoffed, shaking his head. "Entitled?" He let out a dry laugh, eyes flicking away as if the conversation exhausted him. "Right. Of course, you are." His voice held bitterness, but he lacked the energy to fight any further.

Yoongi didn’t let the matter drop. With a sudden, decisive move, he reached out, fingers wrapping around Jimin’s wrist, pulling him closer. The grip was firm—not painful, but enough to make a point. "Now sit quietly and don’t move from here," Yoongi commanded, his tone carrying a quiet intensity.

Jimin felt his patience snap. "So what?" he shot back, voice rising slightly. So what if he moved? So what if he wanted to sit elsewhere? His mind screamed at the injustice, but Yoongi’s grip didn’t waver.

Jimin instinctively tried to pull his hand away, but Yoongi’s hold was unyielding. A brief struggle ensued—Jimin’s fingers twitching, Yoongi’s grip tightening just enough to remind him who had the upper hand. It lasted only a moment before Jimin sighed, slumping slightly. There was no use fighting.

Defeated, he let his wrist remain in Yoongi’s grasp, though his posture was stiff, his body screaming with silent rebellion.

The plane hummed steadily in the background, and the tension between them remained thick. Feeling restless, Jimin fished his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it with a quick swipe. He scrolled through Instagram absentmindedly, his thumb moving on autopilot.

Yoongi’s grip on his wrist loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go completely. Instead, he watched as Jimin focused on his phone, his expression carefully neutral.

Minutes passed. Jimin’s scrolling slowed, his grip on the phone loosening. His eyes grew heavier, the hum of the aircraft lulling him into drowsiness.

Without meaning to, his head dipped to the side. And before he could stop himself, he found warmth—a steady, strong presence beside him.

His cheek rested lightly against Yoongi’s shoulder.

Yoongi froze. His breath hitched slightly, eyes widening as the unexpected weight settled against him.

Jimin’s soft breathing reached his ears, slow and steady, his features relaxed in sleep. Gone was the sharp defiance, the irritation, the resistance. In slumber, he looked small, vulnerable—even at peace.

Yoongi hesitated, then, with a tenderness he rarely showed, he raised a hand to Jimin’s hair, fingers threading through the soft strands.

A faint smile ghosted his lips as he traced Jimin’s sleeping form with his eyes. Even in the middle of their unspoken battles, even when Jimin looked at him with distrust, Yoongi couldn’t stop himself from caring.

His fingers lingered, smoothing Jimin’s hair gently, as if making a silent promise.

The tension from before melted away, replaced by a rare moment of quiet harmony.

For now, Yoongi let him rest.

Unspoken Battles

Jimin stirred from his deep slumber, his body stretching slightly as the disorientation of waking up settled over him. But as his senses adjusted, he became painfully aware of something—an arm draped over him. His head, which had found a comfortable resting place against Yoongi’s shoulder, was still there, and what was worse—Yoongi’s hand was loosely resting on his waist.

His body tensed. His heart pounded in his chest as realization dawned, sending a surge of anger coursing through him. His drowsiness vanished in an instant.

"What the hell is this?!" Jimin's voice shot through the cabin like a bullet, sharp and unforgiving. He shoved Yoongi’s arm away from him, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. "How dare you touch me!"

Yoongi, caught off guard, sat up straighter, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His expression flickered between annoyance and concern. "Jimin, listen—"

"Listen?" Jimin scoffed, his voice dripping with frustration. "What do you want me to listen to, huh? That you always find excuses to touch me?" His voice wavered between outrage and something else—something deeper, tangled in layers of mistrust.

Yoongi exhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin. "It's not like that—"

"Oh, please," Jimin cut him off, crossing his arms as he glared at him. "I know you too well. Don’t even bother making excuses."

Yoongi’s jaw clenched. The accusation stung more than he expected.

Jimin’s voice turned bitter, his sarcasm biting, "How can a mafia be innocent, after all?" He let the words hang between them, knowing it would hit where it hurt.

A presence loomed nearby, snapping their attention away from each other. A flight attendant approached with a polite yet firm expression.

"Sir, is there a problem?" His voice was hushed, yet urgent, a plea for calm.

Yoongi inhaled deeply, forcing his irritation down. His expression remained composed as he nodded. "No it's fine."

The attendant gave a measured look before sighing. "Okay, sir." With that, he walked away, leaving them in a thick, suffocating silence.

Yoongi turned back to Jimin, his gaze dark. "I've been trying to treat you nicely," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "But it seems like you don’t deserve that, do you?"

Jimin felt a shiver run down his spine. Something in Yoongi’s tone shifted, no longer just irritation but something deeper—something that made his chest tighten with unease.

Yoongi’s hand suddenly gripped Jimin’s wrist, yanking him forward. It wasn’t harsh, but it was strong and undeniable.

"Ah—Yoongi, let go!" Jimin gasped, trying to pull back.

But Yoongi’s grip didn’t falter. Instead, he leaned in close, his voice dangerously low.

"Don’t create a scene here, and don’t piss me off. Understand?"

Jimin swallowed, his pulse hammering in his ears. "You—"

"Lower your voice in front of me," Yoongi interrupted coldly. "Stay quiet. And don’t even think about saying anything else from that beautiful mouth of yours. You know the consequences."

Jimin’s breath hitched.

The air between them was heavy, suffocating. Jimin's hands trembled slightly as he clenched them into fists, his body rigid with tension. His mind screamed at him to push back, to say something, but the look in Yoongi’s eyes pinned him in place.

He knew that look. It wasn’t just anger—it was a warning.

Jimin inhaled sharply, his voice dropping into a whisper. "Damn it, Yoongi..."

But exhaustion was catching up to him. The fear, the adrenaline, the sheer stress of it all was draining him. He felt his own body betraying him, pulling him into drowsiness.

Yoongi didn’t let go of his wrist until he felt the tension ease. Jimin’s breathing slowed, his eyelids fluttering shut as his body gave in to exhaustion.

For the next few hours, the tension lingered, thick and unresolved, but silent.

—

Arrival in Switzerland

The sound of the plane’s engine quieted. The soft voice of the flight attendant announced their arrival, signaling the end of their tense journey.

The atmosphere inside the cabin shifted from suffocating to calm.

Yoongi turned his head, his gaze softening as he saw Jimin still curled up beside him, now deep in sleep.

For a moment, he just watched. The faint rise and fall of Jimin’s chest, the way his lashes fluttered slightly as he dreamed. So peaceful. So different from the fire he usually threw his way.

Carefully, Yoongi reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Jimin’s face, his fingers lingering against his cheek.

His voice, this time, was gentle. "We’re here, Jimin."

Jimin stirred, his brow furrowing slightly as he blinked awake. His eyes were still clouded with sleep, taking a moment to register their surroundings.

Then, they landed on Yoongi.

There was hesitation, a flicker of unease, but also relief.

They had arrived.

And though the tension between them was far from over, for now—just for now the war was on pause.

The cool Swiss air carried a slight chill as they stepped outside the airport, the city lights flickering like scattered stars. The anticipation in the air was almost tangible as they waited.

After what felt like an eternity, two sleek black cars pulled up before them, their polished surfaces reflecting the glow of the airport’s exterior lights. The quiet hum of the engines filled the space, breaking the stillness of the moment.

As the doors swung open, a well-dressed man stepped out, his sharp eyes landing on Yoongi with familiarity. He approached swiftly, leaning in to exchange hushed words with him.

Yoongi gave a short nod, then turned to the others, his voice authoritative. “Take all the luggage to the hotel.”

The man responded with a curt nod, reaching into his pocket before handing Yoongi a set of car keys. Their exchange was brief yet filled with silent understanding.

Jimin exhaled, shifting his weight. He was tired. He wanted to get to the hotel and crawl into bed, preferably far away from Yoongi.

Just as he moved towards the back seat, intending to slip in beside Taehyung, Yoongi’s voice sliced through the moment like a blade.

“Sit here before I make you.” His tone was quiet but firm. “And I’m sure you wouldn’t like that, would you?”

Jimin’s steps halted. His eyes snapped toward Yoongi, a fiery glare burning behind them. “Excuse me?” His voice dripped with irritation.

Yoongi didn’t even spare him a glance, his fingers effortlessly twirling the car keys before unlocking the vehicle. “I said sit in the front.”

Jimin’s hands curled into fists at his sides. His frustration boiled under his skin, but he knew better than to argue in front of others—especially strangers. With a huff, he yanked open the passenger door, throwing Yoongi one last glare before slipping inside.

“Asshole,” Jimin muttered under his breath as he fastened his seatbelt.

Yoongi smirked, clearly having heard it, but chose to say nothing. Instead, he started the car, the engine purring to life beneath his control.

Meanwhile, in the back seat, Taehyung and Jungkook were already lost in their own world.

“Kookie, look! The city is so beautiful at night.” Taehyung practically pressed against the window, his voice brimming with excitement.

Jungkook chuckled, “You’re acting like we won’t be here for days.”

“I know, but still! It’s not every day we come to Switzerland.” Taehyung turned toward Jungkook, eyes gleaming. “Should we go on a late-night walk when we get to the hotel?”

Jungkook smirked, leaning closer. “Just the two of us?”

Taehyung grinned, “Of course.”

Jimin let out a long sigh, sinking further into his seat as he listened to their soft laughter.

It must be nice, he thought bitterly. To love someone so freely. To be able to sit beside the person you want.

His gaze flickered toward Yoongi, who was focused on the road, one hand casually gripping the wheel. His profile was sharp under the glow of the dashboard lights, his expression unreadable.

Jimin hated the way his stomach twisted.

“Stop staring.”

Jimin jumped slightly at Yoongi’s words. “I wasn’t staring,” he snapped.

Yoongi’s smirk deepened. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Jimin clenched his jaw, crossing his arms over his chest. He decided to ignore him, turning his gaze out the window instead.

The drive was smooth, the streets nearly empty as they sped through the city. Despite the silence between them, a charged tension hung in the air—a battle of unspoken words and emotions neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

Jimin refused to look at Yoongi again.

But what he didn’t know was that Yoongi’s fingers were gripping the steering wheel just a little tighter than necessary.

And in the reflection of the glass, Yoongi’s gaze flickered toward Jimin more times than he’d ever admit.