Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jimin’s head throbbed with that familiar, gnawing ache at the back of his skull, the one that had been haunting him for weeks now, maybe since the attack… he didn’t remember. He had brushed it aside again and again, blaming the endless hours of work, the stress, the suffocating weight of everything that surrounded him. But the truth was, it was growing harder to ignore. He really should have asked Jungkook about it and taken some medication before he dropped dead in the middle of the street, though he dreaded the worried look and blinking doe eyes that would follow.

His car pushed through the wall of chaos outside his office. Reporters shoved microphones forward, protestors raised placards with demeaning stuff high, voices laced with venom, spitting accusations and half-truths into the air. It was nothing new… He had grown almost desensitized to the maddening circus. They hated his guts. They hated his silence even more. They wanted him to bow his head, to issue apologies that would never belong to him. But Jimin didn’t bend. Not then, not now. Why should he, when all he’d done was love?

As the car halted, he spotted Taehyung standing at the entrance, sharp, speaking quietly with a pair of senators. The moment Jimin stepped out, their eyes flickered away. They gave clipped, empty greetings before excusing themselves with an almost insulting haste. But again, he had been there too many times to care. Jimin’s lips curved into the barest smile, unbothered, before he moved past them and into the building with Taehyung at his side. The door shut softly behind them, sealing away the noise of the world, but Jimin staggered faintly in the quiet, that pounding in his skull deepening until it nearly unsteadied him before he sat down on the plush chair.

“Yoongi hyung told me about it”

Taehyung said suddenly, his voice flat, his expression empty. Jimin’s eyes snapped open, gaze cutting to him. He had expected it.

“I guessed” 

“And, I’m mad about it!”

A humorless huff left Jimin’s lips. He had gone through the same old lecture way too many times.

“Jungkook is too”

That was the last thread holding Taehyung’s calm. His voice rose, sharp with anger, almost trembling at the edges as he slammed his hands on the wooden table, almost making Jimin flinch a little. 

“You both aren’t fucking getting it, Jimin!”

Jimin stiffened but said nothing.

“Do you even realize what you’ve done? Marcus’s body has already been found. Do you know that? It’s everywhere. The news won’t stop talking about it. I know you both have taken care and erased every minute detail, but anything is possible. They’re ripping you apart, tearing holes into the party, digging for scraps of dirt already after your relationship with Jungkook turned into an open secret. You think you can hide behind silence forever? You think this won’t come back to bite us?” 

Taehyung’s voice cracked, his hands curling into fists. 

“It’s reckless. It’s dangerous. One mistake and all of us fall. You will be the prey, the most haunted one”

“I…” 

Jimin began, but it wasn’t conviction; it wasn't fire. The words were thin, weak, as if he wasn’t even sure he wanted to defend himself. Because he knew that every word Taehyung had uttered was true.

“He… he pushed too far. Taehyung-ah. I let him loose so many fucking times”

“I don’t care!” 

Taehyung snapped, stepping closer, his eyes flashing hints of fury and concern.

“You think I don’t know what Marcus did? There’s this fucking rumor going around that he might’ve had a hand in planning your attack. And, you think I don’t hate him for it? But you… ” 

His voice faltered, trembling. 

“You went back down there. You touched that darkness again. Yoongi will listen. I know he will because you both can never fucking leave that part of you behind. Do you have any idea what it feels like, knowing one wrong move and you’re gone, dragged under with it? I fucking care about you, Jimin!”

Taehyung screamed, and Jimin swayed, a sharp spike of pain bursting behind his eyes, his vision momentarily blurring, and going dark around the edges. He caught himself, hands gripping the wooden table, breathing shallow, fingers twitching. Taehyung’s anger broke in an instant, fear rushing in its place. He stepped forward quickly, grabbing Jimin by the arm, steadying him before he could crumble and hit his head hard. 

“What the fuck!”

“Hey, hey, baby… Don’t do this. Shit, you’re burning up!” 

Taehyung’s voice wavered, thick with panic, his eyes softening as Jimin tried to shake his head, to brush it off. 

“It’s nothing, Tae. Just… Just the headaches again. They will go away. I just need to sleep”

“You are burning up like a furnace, and Headaches?” 

Taehyung’s grip tightened around his arm, his voice sharp with disbelief. 

“You’ve been walking around like this and you didn’t tell anyone? Even Jungkook? God, Jimin, do you want me to lose my mind? You don’t understand… You and Yoongi, you’re all I have. You can’t just… vanish into this madness again. I can’t believe how Jungkook is putting up with your ass”

Jimin let out an empty chuckle, lips curling into a smirk as he shrugged weakly. 

“I know. I am a whole lot of shit”

“Shut up, asshole”

Taehyung let out a small laugh, walking over and taking out the pills before handing them to Jimin and leaning back against the desk. 

“I’m terrified, Jimin-ah. Because we are one wrong move away from disaster. And I can’t… I can’t lose you. I can’t lose Yoongi. I need you both”

Jimin’s lips parted, guilt pooling in his chest as his best friend cupped his cheek, eyes glassy and sad, because beneath Taehyung’s fury was nothing but fear, raw and unfiltered. If anything happened, then he would lose both of them, the two most important people in his life. Jungkook was hurt, but didn’t say a word. Taehyung was hurt, and he unleashed like a madman. And for the first time, Jimin felt the weight of it settle against his own trembling shoulders.

.

.

.

“I’ll be there after lunch, Hyung. I hope we’ve got something”

Jungkook’s voice was steady, but his teeth tugged at the silver of his lip ring, tongue flicking against it in a habit he hadn’t shaken since he got them almost three years ago. His gaze drifted past the glass of the car window, unfocused and lost, skimming over rows of traffic and trees blurring by. The crisp white coat lay folded on his lap, a heavy reminder of who he was supposed to be, while the patient reports balanced on it were littered with half-finished notes and highlighted pages. His mind couldn’t stay on them when his thoughts circled too tightly around the call.

“You are in for a ride. No one would’ve guessed the lengths your father would go”

Namjoon snorted on the other end of the call, and Jungkook’s lips curved into the faintest smile, almost a smirk, though it didn’t reach his eyes. His chest tightened with unease. He only trusted Namjoon with this. His cousin was the one person his father and Junghyun had never doubted, the one person who understood the bones of the conglomerate as if it were part of him. Junghyun had power, but he didn’t always use his head. That was a weakness Jungkook had noted his whole life. His so-called brother, Jungkook, rolled his eyes. 

“Alright. I’m heading to Jimin’s office now. I’ll see you around three”

The line clicked, and silence filled the car, pressing heavily on his chest. Jungkook let out a long, weary breath, pressing his head back against the seat, his eyes fluttering shut as he anticipated the information that would be vital, yet destructive. By the time his car rolled up outside the stone steps of Jimin’s ivory office, he felt the weight of every unspoken emotion drag at his bones. He gathered his coat, his papers, his thoughts, trying to hold himself together when his phone buzzed sharply in his pocket. The message lit up the screen, and Jungkook’s lips parted just slightly as he read it.

Jiminie Hyung 💛

Enter through the back door, Jungkook-ah

Follow my assistant

The breath Jungkook hadn’t realized he was holding spilled out in a shaky exhale. He hadn’t expected that. His heart gave a painful little squeeze, because even now, even after the sharp, tense, and aching silence of last night between them, it felt like a chasm… Jimin still thought of him, still cared enough to want him safe. It wasn’t something huge, but enough to pull him through. Jungkook’s fingers hovered over the message, a pang of longing tugging at him. He didn’t want this distance, didn’t want to spend another second pretending like the air between them wasn’t thick with things unsaid. 

They’d never let anger fester before, not once in almost three years. And he wasn’t about to start now. Clutching the papers tighter in one hand, Jungkook glanced at the assistant stepping toward him, then back at the text. He got down after the signal, checking the public before stepping into ivory halls and walking toward the place he knew by heart. His hand tightened around the little bag of food until the edges bit into his skin. Today, every step felt heavier, and when Jungkook finally pushed open the office door, the sight that greeted him almost snatched the air from his lungs.

Jimin stood near his desk, facing away from the door, shoulders tense beneath the dark fabric of his blazer. His head was bent over a thick stack of documents in one hand, pen scratching against paper. The blonde hair was neatly slicked back, not a single strand out of place, but it was the details… The faint shade of pink in his cheeks, the shadows etched under his eyes, and the stiffness in his posture made Jungkook’s chest ache. He looked… tired. Weak in a way Jimin rarely let anyone see. Yet when he lifted his head, his expression was smooth, eyes soft and fond, lips curling into the faintest smile as though nothing was wrong.

“I’ve been waiting” 

Jimin said, his tone far too casual as he gestured toward the chair across from him without pausing in his work, smiling fondly at Jungkook. 

“Sit, darling. I’ll just finish these”

The silence between them felt suffocating. It pressed in on Jungkook’s ears, gnawed at his nerves, and turned his heartbeat into an aching roar. Jimin pretended. As if he wasn’t exhausted. As if last night hadn’t happened. As if his hands didn’t tremble just faintly when he set the pen down. Jungkook clenched his jaw, his patience fraying.

“Hyung”

Jimin didn’t look up. 

“Mhm?”

That single syllable was the breaking point. Jungkook had been holding it up the entire morning, and he moved before he even thought about it, crossing the room and rounding the table in three long strides. The bag of food slipped from his grip, fluttering onto the edge of the desk as he reached out and grabbed Jimin’s wrist, tugging him forward with more force than he intended. Jungkook pulled him in, arms wrapping tight around Jimin’s frame, crushing him against his chest. He buried his face in the crook of Jimin’s neck, breathing him in, the faint scent of citrus and vanilla grounding him. For a moment, Jimin resisted, body stiff in his hold, as if he were lost in the haze that almost hit him like a truck, his hands hovering as if unsure whether to push away or give in. 

And then, slowly, he exhaled, a shaky breath. His weight sagged, forehead pressing lightly against Jungkook’s shoulder, his fingers curling into the fabric of Jungkook’s shirt like he was finally too tired to keep pretending. But Jungkook felt it, felt the unnatural heat seeping through three layers of clothing, radiating from Jimin’s skin, too much, far too much to be normal. He stilled, doe eyes snapping wide, pulling back just enough to cup Jimin’s face in his palms. His thumbs brushed across flushed cheeks, and a frown formed between his brows at the fever blazing under his skin.

“Jimin?”

Jungkook’s voice cracked as his gaze darted over Jimin’s pale features and tired eyes.

“You’re burning up. God, what am I supposed to do with you?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, shaking his head, and Jimin tried to shrug, lips twitching in that infuriating half-smile he used whenever he wanted to downplay himself. 

“It’s just a regular fever. I’m alright”

“No, you’re not! You don’t get to lie to my face!” 

Jungkook snorted and guided Jimin back down into his chair, hands careful, ignoring the weak protest. He reached for his bag he’d carried every time, pulling out the little pouch stocked with the essentials Jimin always forgot until it was too late. And the basic first aid kit, just in case. A small box of fever meds clinked as Jungkook set it on the desk.

“Eat first, then medicine. I won’t take any excuse” 

Jungkook ordered softly, tearing open the food and placing it neatly on the table, moving away the stacks of papers without a care. He set a bowl in front of Jimin, then crouched down so he could look up into Jimin’s eyes. His gaze softened, the edges of his worry smoothing into something unbearably tender. 

“You scared me yesterday, Hyung” 

Jungkook admitted, his voice low as Jimin rested his hands on Jungkook’s shoulders. 

“I wasn’t angry. Not really. I was upset. I was scared out of my mind when I didn’t find you this morning. I was scared when you admitted that you were in the dungeon. I can’t stand the thought of you walking into that place again”

Jimin’s lips parted, a whisper forming, as he tried to speak or explain, but Jungkook pressed a finger against them, shaking his head. 

“Listen to me. I could never hate you, Hyung. Never. But I do hate starting my day without your kiss” 

A grin ghosted across Jungkook’s face then, boyish and stubborn, softening the heaviness of his words. Jimin let out a small smile, but a genuine one that made his eyes crinkle. 

“I swear, the world doesn’t feel right until you kiss me good morning. See, you are burning up now… So, for my sanity, don’t you dare skip it again”

Jimin’s laugh cracked, weak, but it broke something inside him, too, his heart swelling with too much love for the man crouched in front of him, fretting over every detail.

“Jungkook-ah…” 

His voice was a whisper, raw and hopeless, because how could Jimin explain it? How could he put into words that every second of being loved like this, so stubborn, so fierce, made him fall harder? That every ridiculous complaint, every worried glance, every touch drenched in tenderness only made him want to hold Jungkook tighter? The younger only smiled brighter, pushing the spoon into his hand and nudging the bowl closer. 

“Eat, Hyung. Then meds. Then a nap. And after that, I’m stealing all the kisses you owe me”

Jimin’s throat constricted, the spoon heavy in his hand, but Jungkook didn’t let the silence drag any longer. He sat down on the edge of the desk, pulling out his own bowl, leaning just close enough to brush his fingers against Jimin’s wrist, thumb tracing over the faint pulse there as he bit down on the piece of steak. 

“Oh, and… I’m meeting Namjoon hyung later today. We’re close, Hyung. I might’ve gone a little overboard, but isn’t this a little too much? My father threatened openly, and now we might finally dig up something solid on my father. Something to use against him”

Jimin’s hand stilled, spoon halfway to his lips, his eyes flickering up to Jungkook’s. He should have asked more, should have demanded details, should have warned him of the dangers, but all he could do was stare. Because Jungkook’s face was alight with determination, a fierce passion. He was still the same boy who wanted to heal, to protect, to love, even while carrying the burden of a nasty dynasty that was designed to crush him. And Jimin… God, Jimin couldn’t breathe. The way Jungkook’s hair fell into his eyes, the way his lips pressed together when he spoke about things that mattered, the way he sat there, worrying about him, planning to shield him from shadows Jimin himself couldn’t comprehend. Every second, every heartbeat, Jimin fell deeper.

Jimin felt it when his chest tightened with something too vast to name, when the words lodged in his throat instead of spilling out. His lips parted, but no sound came… Not “be careful,” not “thank you,” not even “I love you.” Just silence, thick and trembling, his gaze fixed on the man before him like he could memorize every line, every flicker of expression, and brand it into his soul for eternity. Jungkook caught him staring and grinned, that boyish grin that was both infuriating and devastating. Jimin could worship him on his knees. Jungkook leaned forward, voice dropping into something softer, more intimate. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Jimin-ssi. You’ll make me think you’re falling in love with me”

And Jimin’s heart cracked open, because wasn’t that exactly what was happening? Every minute, every day, every look. He was falling and falling, with no end in sight.

“I have fallen, and I would fall without a thought every second”

Jungkook didn’t avert his eyes, and Jimin forced himself to swallow a spoonful of food, more to keep Jungkook from worrying than out of hunger, but his eyes never left him. And Jungkook, satisfied, reached out and brushed his knuckles along Jimin’s cheek, feather-light, before pulling back with the softest smile reserved only for him.

✦ ══ 🏛️ ══ ✦

Namjoon’s house was dim, the blinds drawn to keep prying eyes from guessing who had come in through the back entrance. He had never allowed visitors, always keeping the business limited to his office. Papers were scattered on the polished oak desk, files that looked far too thin for the danger they carried, and Namjoon was hunched forward, his elbows resting against the surface, glasses slipping low on his nose. He looked weighed down, and Jungkook immediately knew the news wasn’t good. He hadn’t expected anything nice from his father either. That would be a luxury he could never afford.  Namjoon gestured for him to sit, and Jungkook dropped into the leather chair opposite, leaning forward, forearms braced against his thighs.

“What’s for us?”

“Nothing much”

Namjoon admitted, pushing the folder toward Jungkook.

“But enough to start connecting threads. We can initiate it, and Jimin has the authority over police forces, so it shouldn’t be a huge task. Your father’s ties go deeper than we expected, Jungkook-ah. He’s been funneling money into extremist groups, simultaneously funding the republican party, which is known to the public. But, the news about maintaining extremist groups in allied countries is unknown… He has been doing it quietly, through anonymous property owners and shell corporations. Nothing concrete yet, but there’s chatter, reports of offshore transactions, sudden spikes in activity in remote areas which never saw light, that all lead back to accounts tied to the Jeon conglomerate’s subsidiary in Osaka”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened, knuckles turning white as he skimmed the documents. Words like funding routes and unauthorized weapons blurred in his vision. He could see a few receipts of the transactions, illegal ones, and shipments leaving the ports. 

“Extremists. And in allied countries. The government could find it in a snap if they wanted to”

“Risky, yes. But chaos in the right places destabilizes governments, crumbles them entirely” 

Namjoon said flatly, sitting back in his chair and heaving a sigh.

“And when governments falter, corporations step in to fill the gap. The opposition party cashes in the opportunity. It’s a long game, Kook, and your father has always been a player. But that’s not the worst part”

Namjoon hesitated, something flickering in his gaze, and Jungkook felt his stomach knot.

“Spit it out, Hyung”

“There are whispers that Marcus’s brother might be involved. Or, at the very least, connected to this stuff”

Jungkook’s head snapped up. Marcus. The one Jimin and Yoongi had dealt with just a night ago.

“What?”

“If that’s true, then what happened to Jimin… his attack in the Emirates, the protests, all of it might not have been Marcus’s vendetta alone. It must’ve been orchestrated with your father’s blessing. Or worse, his idea. I believe he initiated everything because he is against your relationship with Jimin, and the republican party might’ve offered him a place in the party. And if that’s the case, he has more than just the conglomerate behind him. He has political backing, which is hard to shake, as the democratic party didn’t win with a huge majority. They have secured many seats”

Jungkook’s chest burned, and his head spun with all the information. He didn’t know how much he despised politics and business until now. 

“This is crazy, Hyung. All of this”

Namjoon didn’t flinch. 

“The opposition party… They want Jimin gone, Jungkook. He’s too bold, too popular, too unyielding for their liking, and he is creating alliances one after the other. His strategies are top-tier. The Republican Party either needs him or needs him gone. There’s no in between. Your father offers them money, influence, and resources. They, in turn, look the other way… or worse, give him support when he walks on his filthy ideas”

The words sank into Jungkook like a slow-acting poison, and for a moment, all he could hear was his pulse thundering in his ears. His father had always been ruthless, but this…. This was a different level of treachery. And though he knew he might have a hand in Jimin’s attack, the confirmation shook him to the core. 

“Then tell me this, Hyung. If he’s so untouchable, if he has the Republicans backing him, why take the risk of texting me personally? Threatening me? Why come at me directly if he could’ve stayed in the shadows?”

Namjoon let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. 

“Because he thinks nothing can faze you. He thinks you’re still the boy who bends under his thumb, even after you proved him wrong. He believes that he could play with you and play with your mind. The reason Junghyun visited you, and they threatened Hobi”

Jungkook’s brows creased together. Threatened Hoseok?

“When the fuck did that happen?”

“It’s over, and it was a bland threat. So, your father believes the Republican party will erase whatever trail he leaves, that they’ll burn every piece of evidence clean the moment it surfaces. To him, threatening you isn’t a risk. It’s a performance. A reminder that he holds all the cards, and he can do whatever he wants without caring for a thing. It’s a blind belief if I must say because politicians can’t be trusted, Kook. Not about Jimin, but generally, it’s like making friends with sharks”

Jungkook’s fists clenched until his nails bit into his palms. 

“He’s wrong. So goddamn wrong”

“Of course he’s wrong” 

Namjoon said sharply, leaning forward again. 

“But you need to play this carefully. He’s not just one man anymore, Jungkook-ah. He’s an empire, and behind him are politicians, businessmen, allies who profit from his survival. We still don’t know what’s hidden beneath the facade of the conglomerate. We’ve barely scratched the surface, and we might find many, many cases buried deep. Take one misstep, and it won’t just be him coming after you… It’ll be an entire machine built to grind people like you and Jimin down, as the public’s already in a frenzy about your relationship. Things are fragile”

“Then we play smarter. You said he thinks nothing can faze me. Good. I’ll stay the dutiful son on the surface while we carve his empire out from the roots”

Namjoon raised a brow, folding his hands together. 

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

Jungkook exhaled slowly, lips twisting. 

“Hospitals. Medical trials. You know how much his subsidiary companies pour into biotech and pharmaceuticals. It’s one of his clean fronts, Hyung. The shiny parts of his empire that politicians like to parade because they make him look benevolent and pristine”

“And you’re inside it!”

“Exactly” 

Jungkook confirmed, a small smile tugging at his mouth. 

“I know the supply chains. The payoffs they give doctors under the table to push their drugs, even if they are borderline risky and life-threatening. If we leak even a fraction of what I’ve seen, we can paint him as what he is… A greedy bastard profiting off sickness. And the Republicans won’t want to stand too close if the stink gets strong enough. I mean, who would expect the son to televise the dirt on his father?!”

Namjoon gave a subtle nod.

“That’s one angle. Risky, but it’s something”

“It’s not the only one. We watch Marcus’s brother. If he really has ties with my father, then he’s the weakest link. Too emotional, too sloppy as far as I know from Jimin. We wait until he slips, then we have evidence of my father’s collusion with extremists. Even if we don't get to this point, the dirt on my father regarding the use of harmful drugs should be enough to launch an investigation, and Jimin will make sure that it is carried out efficiently because they are the ruling party. What he is doing is not just corruption. That’s treason. And not even his money can wipe that clean”

“You’re talking about baiting him”

“I’m talking about giving him the rope he’ll hang himself with. My father wants me scared. He wants Jimin gone. But the mistake he keeps making…” 

Jungkook’s eyes darkened, fingers curling into a fist. 

“Is underestimating what I’ll do when it comes to protecting Jimin”

For the first time, Namjoon’s lips twitched, though it wasn’t amusing. It was a twisted kind of pride. 

“You sound more like Jimin every day”

“Maybe” 

Jungkook agreed softly, leaning back, his gaze momentarily drifting toward the blinds, mind racing with thousand thoughts. 

“Jimin’s approach is kinda… brutal, but he doesn’t get to carry this weight alone. Not anymore. He thinks he has to keep me out of the fire, but I’m already standing in it. My family’s the fire, and if my father believes his machine is unstoppable…” 

Jungkook turned back, eyes sharp as glass, staring at Namjoon, who mirrored his look. 

“Then we dismantle the gears until it collapses on top of him”

Namjoon studied the younger for a long moment, then finally nodded, sliding a thicker folder across the desk. 

“Then you’ll want to see this. It’s not evidence. Not yet. But it’s the beginning of a trail”

“The report on harmful drugs shouldn’t take more than a day or two. I already have the evidence, because I’m a genius that way”

Namjoon slapped the younger’s arm as Jungkook shrugged smugly, and opened the file, skimming the pages, but all he could think about was Jimin, worn down and fever-warm against his chest, whispering apologies he should never have to make. They were on good terms, and he would keep it that way. 

“We’re going to end this. For him. For all of us”

✦ ══ 🏛️ ══ ✦

The marble floors of the secluded and high-security wing seemed even more squeaky clean today, each step Jimin took echoing inside his skull. He adjusted the cuff of his blazer for the third time, though it didn’t need fixing, and forced his hand to still. No nerves. It was never nerves, but the distaste swirling in his throat. But still, the thought pressed against him like a thorn: the Vice President. Of all the meetings he’d had to endure all these years, this was the one he had dreaded. The man had always been polite to the point of cruelty, a politician’s smile stretched thin and grim across his face, eyes that never warmed. 

Jimin had searched for cracks in him numerous times, tried to find whether it was disdain or disinterest, whether it was just reserved to him, but he had never once gotten more than a courteous nod, a wordless gesture. Cold silence, delivered with a smile that made his bones itch. Now he had to sit across from him. Alone for god knew how long. The heavy double doors stood at the end of the hall, the golden crest gleaming in the evening light. Jimin’s steps slowed before them, his pulse kicking faster. He thought about Jungkook… Always his first anchor when he felt disoriented, and he reminded himself why he was here. Why he couldn't afford to falter.

The Vice President’s assistant greeted him softly, ushering him inside. She was nice. She has always been unlike the monster inside. The air changed instantly; quieter, heavier. The Vice President sat behind his desk, hands folded neatly, as though he’d been waiting. His expression was exactly what Jimin had come to expect: a smile, polite, eyes that gave nothing away.

“Mr. Park. I wasn’t sure you’d come”

He said, voice smooth as glass, and Jimin’s throat tightened, though he managed to return the courtesy with a faint incline of his head. As if he could miss the Vice President’s invitation. He loved his job. Thank you. 

“I don’t ignore invitations, Mr. Vice President”

The man chuckled lightly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Then let’s see if you find today worth your time”

As Jimin lowered himself into the chair across the desk, he realized his heart wasn’t just pounding from dread anymore. Something about the way the man looked at him, not with disdain, not with distance, but with something sharper and peculiar, made his stomach knot. For the first time, Jimin wondered if he’d been wrong all along. The Vice President leaned back in his chair, that same polished smile never faltering.

“Quite the storm outside, isn’t it?” 

He began lightly, as though commenting on the weather. He might have been referring to that, but Jimin knew better. 

“Protestors at every gate, shouting until their voices break. You’ve stirred them well, Mr. Park. You definitely know how to leave a mark”

Jimin’s jaw tightened, but he kept his face still. 

“It isn’t the first storm we’ve seen, Sir” 

The man chuckled, quiet, almost indulgent, as if he hadn’t expected that. Jimin kept his tone light. 

“True. But this one… This one grows because of silence. Your silence, to be exact. People fear what they don’t understand, and when leaders refuse to speak… Well, fear becomes chaos. Chaos becomes anger. You can hear it yourself every time you drive past them, I suppose, or do you own a soundproof vehicle?”

That was a blow because who owned such things? Jimin’s nails pressed lightly into his palm under the desk. He wanted to retort, to say that love was not a crime, that silence was not surrender, and preach what he had always believed. But the calm mask on the Vice President’s face told him that wouldn’t matter. This wasn’t advice. It was a lecture. A warning. The man tilted his head slightly, as though amused by Jimin’s silence. 

“You’ve always had the people’s eye, Mr. Park. Charisma, kind of a heartthrob, presence, fire… It’s rare, spectacular even. But fire… fire needs control. Without it, it burns everything. Even the ones closest to it” 

The Vice President’s voice softened, but his eyes didn’t. 

“You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

Jimin’s lips twitched, anger bubbling like molten steel in his veins, but he only inclined his head slightly. 

“Of course not”

“Good! Then consider this Mr. Park: The government, our government, comes first. Not individuals. Not affairs of the heart. Not family feuds. The bigger picture. Always” 

He leaned forward, lowering his voice as if to make the words echo in the room, personal, intimate. 

“The people need reassurance. They need to hear from you, not the tabloids, not the protestors, not the whispers in dark alleys which change from person to person. From you. Own up, lay low, remind them you are a servant of the nation, not a distraction from it. Do that, and the noise will fade”

The words struck like acid, coated in civility, spilling on his skin and burning him inch by inch. Each indirect jab landed with the precision of a sharpened knife. Own up. Lay low. A servant, not a distraction. Jimin felt his breath captured. Every instinct screamed at him to rise, to slam his palms on the desk and tell this man exactly how wrong he was, how he would never apologize for who he loved, how he would never reduce Jungkook to a liability. But this was the Vice President. This was the office that had to smile for the cameras while it gutted you from the inside. So Jimin didn’t move. Didn’t argue. Didn’t give the man the satisfaction of seeing him lose his composure. He stayed calm, just like the man before him. Nothing fazed him. 

“Noted, Sir” 

Jimin said at last, his voice clipped, almost icy. The Vice President only smiled wider, like a teacher indulging a stubborn pupil who was born to wreck chaos. 

“That’s all I ask. You’ll find that silence can be a shield as well as a weapon, Mr. Park. Learn when to wield it. Silence is treasure. It will ruin you when you least expect it”

Jimin stood, his movements measured, his body tight with restrained fury. He offered a polite bow of his head because that was the game, wasn’t it? 

“Do take care, Defense Secretary” 

The Vice President added casually, just as Jimin’s hand touched the handle. 

“We wouldn’t want your fire to burn out before its time. We need you”

Jimin didn’t respond. He couldn’t. If he opened his mouth now, it wouldn’t be words, it would be venom, and something he couldn’t name.  He must admit. The man had a way with words. They echoed in his ears like war drums. Jimin walked out, each step deliberate, the weight of that calm voice coiling inside him like poison, his anger a storm threatening to break free.

.

.

.

It had been a day since his dread-filled meeting with the Vice President, and Jimin’s mind hadn’t stopped running. Every conversation, every indirect jab, every responsibility stacked higher in his head… The alliances that needed him, the army generals demanding his time, the shadow of another trip to Massachusetts looming within the week. The thought of leaving again made his chest tighten, dread curling heavy in his gut. By the time he returned home, way past the usual time, his body felt like lead. 

He shoved the door shut behind him, dismissed his assistant, tugged the blazer from his shoulders, and tossed it carelessly onto the couch, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose. All he wanted was to wash away the day under warm water and then collapse into bed beside Jungkook, bury himself in the warmth of him, and forget the world for a while. Jimin ran a hand through his blonde hair, but as he trudged up the stairs, the faint spill of light from his office door caught his attention. It was slightly ajar, which was unusual, a thin glow leaking into the hall where it should’ve been dark. Jimin frowned, pausing, then pushed the door open wider.

The sight rooted him to the spot.

Jungkook sat at his desk, glasses sliding low on his nose, head bent toward the screen’s glow. His black hair was messy and silky, framing the face so beautifully, lips slightly parted in focus, long tattooed fingers scrolling through files like he was peeling away all the secrets layer by layer. The dim amber light kissed his profile, made the curve of his jaw sharper, made him look devastatingly good… Half brilliant scholar, half sin wrapped in skin.

Jimin’s throat went dry.

Jungkook glanced up at the sound of the door and probably the clack of Jimin’s Chelsea boots, eyes catching his frame immediately. And instead of greeting him, he launched straight into it, voice quick, low with intensity. 

“Hyung, I found something. It’s not everything, but it’s a start. Records of my amazing father’s name are linked to pharmaceutical approvals. Illegal. Harmful drugs were pushed through with his signature buried in the paperwork. I had them with me for a while, but I kind of documented them” 

He tapped the screen, eyes flashing. 

“It’s leverage. Tomorrow, I’ll pass it to Namjoon Hyung so he can publish it quietly, anonymously. No one traces it back to us”

Jimin only half heard the words. The other half of him was caught in the sheer sight of Jungkook, the way his glasses hung just low enough to make him look infuriatingly sexy, the determination burning in his doe eyes. A nerd, yes, but one who carried danger and allure like second skin. His eyes stopped on the piercings which were being toyed with by the younger’s tongue. Brilliant mind and raw beauty, and Jimin felt a heat coil in his stomach, every nerve ending buzzing. He didn’t realize he’d moved until he was already crossing the room, the space between them collapsing in fast, hard steps. 

Jungkook’s mouth was still moving, still explaining strategy, when Jimin gripped his jaw and kissed him, all the pent-up fire that had been smoldering in him since the Vice President’s poisoned words. Jungkook froze for a fraction of a second, caught off guard as Jimin’s lips collided with his. His body stiffened, back pressing instinctively against the chair, but then as if his body ignited all over, he returned the kiss, hands hesitating at first before gripping the edge of the desk. He didn’t have enough time to process it, when Jimin pulled back slightly, just enough to look into Jungkook’s eyes, dark and intense, voice low and teasing.

“Continue”

Jimin murmured, and Jungkook’s stomach fluttered, doing a somersault, heart hammering, but as he opened his mouth to speak, he faltered. The weight in Jimin’s gaze was almost unbearable… Possessive, hungry, dark, and it held him chained, made him tremble in a delicious mix of restraint and need. Jungkook wanted to follow, to obey, to let Jimin lead… but the intensity in that stare made him hesitate.

“I… okay. So, the UAE attack might also be… the work of Marcus’s brother? No solid evidence, but… It might be true, and my father got political…”

Jungkook’s voice trailed off, breaking every few words as he tilted his head to stare at Jimin, gaze flickering back to the screen immediately. He went on, explained what he had discussed with Namjoon, and how Jimin must step in all while the latter listened to him without blinking, gaze dark and siren-like. Seconds stretched until Jungkook’s patience finally snapped. If Jimin didn’t want him all giddy, then he shouldn’t have started at all. If he wasn’t going to make the move, Jungkook would. He never backed down, and he took what he wanted one way or the other. Jungkook gripped Jimin’s half-buttoned shirt with both hands, yanking him down until their bodies collided fully, and pressed their lips together fiercely. Jimin hissed, a low sound of pleasure, before finally letting a smirk curve his lips.

The smirk quickly gave way to hunger, untamed desire. Jimin kissed him back, deep and unrelenting, sliding a hand over Jungkook’s waist, squeezing the flesh hard, fingers brushing dangerously close to the waistband of his pants, as he dipped in, and pulled the younger man up by his pants. Jungkook moaned into the kiss, half-surrendering, half-demanding, reveling in the fire that pulsed between them. Jimin’s arms snaked around his waist as they kissed, Jungkook’s back hitting the desk as he wrapped his arms around Jimin’s neck, sucking and nibbling on the bottom lip. 

Jungkook’s hands were everywhere, tangling in Jimin’s blonde hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more, while Jimin’s hands were equally unrelenting… tracing, tugging, claiming. Clothes became obstacles; buttons popped, sleeves dropped down the arms, and pants hit the floor, teeth and lips leaving little room for air. Jimin’s mouth left Jungkook’s lips to trail a hot, bruising, wet path down his jaw, over the throat, leaving marks that burned like fire. Messy, and frantic.

“God, you’re fucking insatiable!” 

Jimin murmured against the shell of Jungkook’s ear, voice low, rough, teeth grazing as he bit down gently before sucking the ear lobe into his mouth, tongue twirling the metal hoop dangling from the ear. Jungkook shivered, a gasp escaping, and teased back.

“Hyung… ” 

His tone was half-laugh, half-plead, soaked in need. Jimin growled, the sound dark and possessive, manhandling the younger, pressing him down so his chest was flush against the desk, papers scattered around, hands pinning his hips while he bent him, spreading him wide. Fingers roamed boldly across the expanse of Jungkook’s back, tracing the tattoo that spread a little to the shoulder blades, every touch claiming, marking, driving Jungkook to the edge.. Jimin’s lips moved to his shoulder, teeth grazing, leaving a trail of blooming marks on the skin, while one hand pressed hard to his waist.

Jimin’s groan deepened as he rolled his hips, once, twice, slowly grinding hard against Jungkook, the friction deliberate, filthy, enough to make the younger arch and gasp. Papers crumpled beneath them, falling to the floor, but that was an issue for the future; his mouth was busy biting into the slope of Jungkook’s shoulder, sucking until angry red marks bloomed across the pale skin. Jungkook hissed, fingers clawing at the desk, head tilted back. He shuddered when Jimin’s hand left his hip to snake up, sliding across his side, another hand pulling him up by the hair when fingers pinched a nipple, twisting it. 

“Hyung… Fuck…” 

Jungkook whined, breathless, half-moan, half-plea. His voice trembled., but his tone was laced with teasing defiance. 

“Stop teasing and just… fuck me You know you want to”

Jimin smirked against his skin, biting harder and licking a fat stripe along the column of his neck, leaving a particularly dark bruise. His free hand slid lower, palming Jungkook, and pairing the strokes with a squeeze that made him jolt.

“You sure, sweetheart?” 

Jimin’s voice was low, threaded with lust. He rolled his hips again, grinding harder, making Jungkook groan and push back shamelessly. 

“You think this mouth of yours is worth the risk?”

Jungkook turned his head just enough to meet Jimin’s gaze from over his shoulder, sweat-damp hair sticking to his temple, lips swollen from biting down too hard. His smirk was breathless, cocky, dripping with need. 

“I don’t think, I know. Now quit acting like you don’t wanna fuck me dumb”

The way Jimin’s eyes darkened at that, feral, hungry, was enough to make Jungkook’s knees weaken. Jimin’s hands roamed lower, kneading rough circles into his thighs before delivering a sharp smack to his bare ass that made Jungkook jolt and gasp.

“Careful what you beg for” 

Jimin muttered, filthy and hot against his ear as he rolled his hips again, harder this time, teeth scraping the shell. 

“Because I promise to fuck you until you can’t make it out of this office”

Jungkook shuddered, a moan spilling shamelessly from his lips. 

“Good luck, then!”

Jimin rolled his eyes, an amused snort leaving his lips as he landed another smack to the ass. 

“Keep this up, and I’ll come before you even get inside” 

Jungkook panted, smirk tugging at his lips, voice dripping with challenge. Jimin answered with a tug to his bottom lip, almost making the younger one bleed a little. Jungkook jolted, arching, a broken moan tearing out of him as his fingers clawed uselessly at the desk’s polished wood.

“You’ll come when I say you can” 

Jimin whispered, biting the back of his neck, teeth digging into flesh as his other hand slid down, fingers tracing Jungkook’s ass before kneading them roughly. He was bare, exposed, bent over the desk with his ass up and flushed. Jungkook hissed at the cool air, but any protest died on his tongue when Jimin spread him apart, fingers teasing along the cleft, pressing against his hole without mercy.

“Fuck… I could impale you on my fingers all day long” 

Jimin muttered, and the humiliation made Jungkook moan louder, writhing, rutting into the desk.

“Stop talking and fuck me” 

Jungkook shot back, his voice cracking. He craned his neck with a smirk, pupils blown wide. 

“Raw. Like I said. Don’t you want to mark me so deep that no one will forget who I belong to?”

Jimin chuckled darkly, pressing a finger in with no warning, rough and unrelenting. Jungkook cried out, biting his lip, knuckles whitening as he clutched at the edge of the desk, his back arching beautifully.

“You beg in such a pretty way, Jungkook-ah” 

Jimin rasped, thrusting the finger in deeper, curling it the right way just to watch Jungkook shudder and curse. He added another, scissoring him open, ignoring the younger’s hiss of pain-turned-pleasure. 

“So fucking needy. But since you’re such a needy brat…” 

He leaned closer, lips ghosting Jungkook’s ear. 

“I’ll give you exactly what you asked for”

Jungkook moaned, wriggling, pushing back on Jimin’s hand desperately. 

“Then stop prepping and fuck me already”

That broke Jimin’s patience. With a snarl, he yanked his belt open, shoving his pants and underwear low enough to free his cock. He pumped himself a few times, and lined up, rubbing the thick head against Jungkook’s stretched hole just to watch him squirm, teasing him until the younger was whining.

“Say it again” 

Jimin demanded, voice commanding, and Jungkook’s reply was a whimper, muffled by the desk when he buried his face in his arms. 

“Fuck me stupid, Hyung. Wreck my hole. Make me scream until the whole damn mansion hears”

That was all Jimin needed. With one brutal thrust, he slammed into Jungkook. The younger screamed, voice breaking as his body jolted forward against the desk, stars exploding behind his eyes. Jungkook gasped, toes curling, nails scratching the wood, but he was already pushing back, desperate for more. Jimin gripped his hips, bruising the skin, pulling out and slamming in with sheer animalistic force, dragging the younger back onto his cock again and again, each thrust sharp, punishing, filthy. The desk shook beneath them, papers scattering to the floor. His teeth returned to Jungkook’s shoulder, biting hard enough to bruise, marking him over and over.

“You’re gorgeous like this” 

Jimin moaned between thrusts, every word punctuated with the sound of skin slapping skin. 

“Whose hole is this?”

Jungkook sobbed, as his voice cracked with pleasure. 

“Yours, Hyung. Fuck, it’s yours”

Jimin slammed deeper, grinding against the prostate that made Jungkook’s knees buckle. The younger screamed, high and broken, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, body quivering from the relentless pace as he was jerked against the table.

“You’re so fucking tight” 

Jimin gritted, hips snapping mercilessly, one hand twisting in Jungkook’s hair, keeping him pressed against the table as the other gripped the waist, fucking him hard, until the room was filled with a string of moans. Jimin’s pace turned brutal, each thrust deep and merciless. Jungkook’s moans had long broken into desperate cries, his voice ragged, wrecked. 

“I… I am close…”

“No. Hold it in”

Jimin snarled, the hand fisted in Jungkook’s hair, tightening, yanking his head back so his throat arched beautifully. He bent down, lips against the curve of Jungkook’s ear, voice low and poisonous sweet.

“Told you you can’t come until I tell you so”

“Don't… Don’t stop…”

Jungkook’s voice was high, breathless, and wrecked. Each word cracked apart under the weight of pleasure. Jimin’s grip bruised his hips, forcing him down hard onto his cock, their bodies slapping together with obscene sounds. Jungkook choked on a sob, face pressed to the desk as he gasped out incoherent words lost in the heat surrounding them.

“Unghh”

The low mewl that slipped Jungkook’s lips made Jimin smirk darkly, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, making Jungkook cry out loud, raw and unrestrained.

“You begged me to fuck you raw. Now you’ll take it, every fucking drop”

Jungkook’s moans turned desperate, his cock leaking onto the desk without a single touch. He was gone, lost in submission, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. Jimin groaned, hand sliding up to hold and pin Jungkook’s wrists flat against the desk, holding him completely still while pounding into him. Jungkook sobbed, hips jerking helplessly, thighs trembling, every thrust pushing him closer to breaking. His sassy edge had melted away, leaving him pliant, needy, desperate for release.

“Please, Hyung, I’ll be good. Just let me…”

That was the moment Jimin groaned, snapping his hips harder, angling just right until Jungkook screamed, his body jerking violently as he was pushed past the edge.

“Go on” 

Jimin whispered, and Jungkook shattered, spilling hot and messy all over the desk without a single touch to his cock, crying out Jimin’s name like a prayer, his body trembling violently as pleasure overtook him, until his eyes rolled to the back of his head. His arms gave out, cheek pressed to the wood, panting, moaning, tears streaking his flushed face. But Jimin wasn’t done. He fucked him through it, riding his orgasm until Jungkook was sobbing, overstimulated, squirming under his grip.

“Hyung… I can’t, I can’t!” 

Jungkook whined and wiggled, but his body still clenched tight around Jimin, pulling him deeper, milking him.

“You’ll take it” 

Jimin mumbled under his breath, fucking him raw and relentlessly until his own release ripped through him. With a final deep thrust, he came inside Jungkook, painting the walls white, groaning into the younger’s ear as he filled him. Jungkook moaned weakly, trembling, the filthy heat of being claimed, ruined, utterly owned. When Jimin finally stilled, his chest heaving, he leaned down and kissed the back of Jungkook’s neck, softer this time. After what felt like hours, Jimin finally eased back, hips coming to a halt, still buried deep inside Jungkook’s wrecked hole. His chest rose and fell against the younger’s trembling back, sweat clinging to both their skins.

Then, with a slow drag, Jimin pulled out. The sound was obscene, slick and messy, and Jimin’s lips curved into a dark, amused smirk when he saw the sight… His cum spilling out of Jungkook in thick streams, dripping down the insides of his thighs. 

“Fuck…” 

Jimin muttered under his breath, fingers spreading Jungkook’s ass a little just to watch the mess leak out more. He dipped a finger in, stretching the hole a little. His tone was mocking but low with hunger. 

“Look at you, baby. Can’t even hold it in”

Jungkook whimpered, face pressed to the desk, too fucked out to lift his head, voice wrecked and soft. 

“Hyung…”

That one word, so broken, so cute, so trusting, made Jimin’s amusement soften. He leaned down, pressing his lips to Jungkook’s bare shoulder, peppering gentle kisses over the bruises he’d left. 

“Shh, I got you!”

He smoothed a hand up Jungkook’s back, kneading the tense muscles before sliding an arm around his waist, coaxing him upright. Jungkook sagged into him immediately, pliant, eyes glassy, lips swollen from the desperate kisses.

“Good boy” 

Jimin murmured fondly, kissing the corner of his mouth, then brushing away a tear from his flushed cheek with his thumb and dropping kisses on the tip of his nose.

“So fucking good for me”

Jungkook gave a weak, satisfied smile, still trembling but leaning in for another kiss. Jimin obliged with a fond smile, his lips lingering like a promise, tasting the sweetness that lingered after the wreckage. When he finally pulled back, Jimin chuckled low in his throat, brushing Jungkook’s messy hair out of his eyes, and tucking it behind the ear.

“You’re a disaster, Jungkook-ah. My beautiful, perfect mess”

Jungkook let out a small, breathless laugh, doe eyes crinkling, and curling into Jimin’s chest, letting him hold him up while his body still buzzed from the aftermath. Jimin kissed the younger’s temple and whispered against his damp skin. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright? Though I love the sight, I can’t have you dripping all over the office” 

Jimin’s grin was playful, earning a weak smack from the younger, who looked on the verge of falling asleep. And when he scooped the younger up, it was with a tenderness that contrasted the raw filth from moments before, grounding Jungkook in the safety of being utterly, completely his. 

✦ ══ 🏛️ ══ ✦

~ 2 days later ~

Leaked Documents Tie ‘Harmful’ Drug Approvals to Jeon Conglomerate. Files Sent Anonymously

An anonymous stash of internal documents sent overnight to multiple newsrooms appears to show a pattern of irregular, illegal approvals tied to a cluster of pharmaceuticals funded by the Jeon conglomerate, sources say. The package, delivered via encrypted drop and accompanied by a seven-page explanatory memo includes copies of regulator submissions, internal trial & testing reports and what the sender claims are bank transfers showing payment routing through fake entities connected to Jeon’s health division. Political analysts say the leak will intensify scrutiny on Jeon’s growing influence in the biomedical research field. 

The Government Opens Inquiry After Anonymous Evidence Links Jeon Conglomerate to Controversial Pharma Approvals

In the wake of an anonymous leak, the government confirmed an inquiry is underway into approval processes for several drugs tied to funds from the Jeon conglomerate. Officials confirmed they’ve begun a “forensic review” of submission materials, including a safety assessment. The public is demanding urgent transparency; opposition party members are calling for immediate suspension of approvals. The anonymous sender has not been identified. Journalists have preserved the authenticity of the files for verification.

“Are you sure you want to go alone?”

Jimin questioned, eyes filled with a hint of worry, despite the confidence he exuded. His thumb was tracing small circles over Jungkook’s wrist, betraying his unease. It wasn’t that Jungkook couldn’t handle himself; he always could, he was more than capable, and he had his own bodyguards, but paranoia had become Jimin’s constant shadow after months of threats and unpredictable chaos. 

“I am more than fine. You worry too much, Hyung”

Jungkook wiggled his brows and replied as he straightened his shirt with a sigh. Jimin hooked his fingers into the loops of Jungkook’s pants and yanked him closer, capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. The younger one melted into it, and when they parted, Jimin gave his shoulders a gentle squeeze.

“I am just one call away. My assistant’s going with you whether you like it or not. He won’t get in your way. Totally out of sight but just in case”

Jungkook’s mouth curved into a teasing, cocky grin.

“God, I looooove it when you get all possessive”

“I am possessive. How could I not be, when I have this beautiful man by my side? I’m selfish… I want every inch of you safe and untouched”

Jimin said without hesitation, and Jungkook flushed pink, and pinched Jimin’s nipple playfully, earning a groan and a whimper from the elder. 

“You wound me”

Jimin muttered with an exaggerated pout, rubbing at his chest.

“So did you last night”

Jungkook shot back with a wink, brushing one last kiss against Jimin’s cheek before walking out, leaving him standing there, grinning like a fool in love. Maybe, he indeed was a fool. The biggest fool. 

.

.

.

The cameras blinked red, indicating the live feed had started. The newsroom was hushed, with limited people who froze in their spots as the youngest Jeon, the former heir who had rejected the empire, walked to the podium, white shirt crisp against the dark backdrop. His jaw was sharp, clenched, his expression calm, but his eyes burned with determination. The anchor barely had time to introduce him before Jungkook leaned into the mic.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook” 

He began, voice steady and deep, carrying weight that silenced any whispers in the studio. 

“You all know my last name, and probably have seen my face everywhere over the past few months”

He let out a humorless chuckle. 

“The conglomerate attached to my name, the power, the money, the spotless reputation, the Jeons claim to have maintained for decades. That requires a lot of effort, and I truly appreciate it. What you don’t know is what hides behind that facade”

A ripple of tension went through the studio room, cameras zooming in. Jungkook didn’t flinch. He was there to create chaos, a ripple in the established mask. 

“No one would’ve expected this day would come, and trust me, I didn’t expect it either, but it reached a point where I had to put it all in the open. My father, the great CEO of the classy empire, believes money erases everything. Laws don’t apply to him. Human lives are nothing but currency to trade. I had watched everything unfold while growing up. The conglomerate has used its power to approve dangerous drugs, harmful antibiotics that kill more than they heal, funnel money into extremist groups in allied countries, and manipulate governments like puppets on strings” 

Jungkook’s voice sharpened. 

“And when I refused to be part of his corruption, when I walked away from his empire to follow and do what I’ve always loved, he cut me out without a second thought and yet dared to confront me. Ridiculous, really! My existence didn’t matter anymore… Unless it was to control me, which didn’t happen, by the way”

The anchor blinked nervously, exchanging looks with the handful of staff that surrounded her, but Jungkook pressed on, a small, sassy tilt of his lips cutting through the tension. They hadn’t expected this kind of news when they received a call from Jungkook’s bodyguard for a slot during prime time. 

“He thought he could intimidate me. That he could threaten me, that I’d fold. He thought…”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered straight to the lens, as if speaking to his father himself.

“He believed that threatening the man I love would make me crawl back and obey his nasty commands. But that was his biggest mistake. I had told him, but I guess his money-hungry brain couldn’t comprehend basic human language…”

The studio buzzed, but Jungkook didn’t break his stride. He leaned a little closer to the mic, almost conversational, but his tone dripped with fury.

“Let me make this very clear, once and for all. Park Jimin’s my partner, my equal, my reason to fight. And if anyone, anyone, has a problem with that, you can take your outdated morals and prejudices and shove them down your throat. I’m not asking for your acceptance or praise. I don’t need it. Love is mine to choose. Jimin is mine to love. And if that bothers you… please, kindly fuck off”

Somewhere in the back, a producer coughed, clearly caught off guard by a rather bold statement, but it was already being televised, and there was nothing they could do, but the room was electric. They just stared wide-eyed at the rawness of his words. Jungkook let the silence hang a beat before continuing, softer, but no less dangerous.

“My father always believed fear was stronger than truth. That soon morphed into cruelty beyond comprehension. That money would silence anyone who dared to speak. Today, I’m telling you the truth. He funds the Republican party, which is an open secret, and they’ll erase every shred of evidence I put forward by secondary means. I didn’t want it to vanish. Don’t let this corruption bury our lives. Don’t let men like my father walk free because they hide behind wealth”

Jungkook’s hands gripped the desk, his frame steady as stone.

“I walked away from that empire, and I will burn every piece of rot it stands on. No matter what it costs me. Because I’d rather stand with nothing than kneel with everything before someone like my father, who exists to induce fear in people and revel in the madness built on blood and tears. My father doesn’t own me. He never has”

For the first time, Jungkook let the faintest smirk pull at his mouth, dark and fearless.

“So go ahead, Dad. Watch this broadcast. I know you are gritting your teeth, sipping wine in one of your luxury mansions. Watch me dismantle every brick of your perfect little tower. Because I’m not scared of you. I never was, and neither is Jimin. We’re done hiding. We’re done being quiet. Don’t even think for a moment that we aren’t aware of your little secret conferences with members of the democratic party to take Jimin down. You may have money, but we can play a better game. I am submitting the evidence of illegal drug deals, tests on human subjects, and approval of harmful medication, which I ordered to be aired right after I am done speaking. This…” 

Jungkook tapped the stack of papers and flash drives lying in front of him. 

“This is only the beginning”

The silence that followed was deafening. The people stared like they’d just witnessed the opening move of a war. The cameras stayed fixed on Jungkook, capturing the youngest Jeon not as a doctor, not as a model, not as an heir, but as a man declaring war on his own blood, and choosing love, freedom, and truth over everything else.

✦ ══ 🏛️ ══ ✦

Jimin hadn’t meant to sit down. He’d been pacing his office, sleeves of his baby blue shirt rolled to the elbows, nerves running raw ever since Jungkook left for the news outlet. His assistant had tried to reassure him, but reassurance meant little when you knew the Jeons, when you knew the lengths they’d go to keep their throne intact. When the red light on the TV blinked on and Jungkook’s face filled the screen, Jimin froze mid-step. He looked too composed, too sure… Like the storm had never touched him. Jungkook looked like someone who had decided to burn the cage and every lock with it.

When Jungkook said his name, Jimin’s lungs stuttered. His throat closed, heart twisting violently between dread and something so bright, so raw, it almost hurt. The love of his life. Jungkook was standing there, on live TV, spitting fire at his father, daring the entire world to hear, to judge, to hate, and still choosing him. Still. If Jimin was the chaos behind the curtains, then Jungkook was the fire lighting up the sky.  Jimin wanted to scream. To drag him away. To kiss him senseless. To hide him somewhere safe. To shake him for being reckless and to worship him for being fearless. His emotions were all over the place. 

When Jungkook leaned in and snarled, “If anyone has a problem with that, fuck off”, Jimin let out a laugh that sounded more like a choked sob. He clapped a hand over his mouth, because God, he had never loved someone so much it physically ached. The man was reckless, stubborn, and so damn sassy even with his world on the line. And Jimin adored him for it. He leaned back against the table, heart pounding, as Jungkook laid out every dirty connection, every drug, every extremist tie, his smirk sharp enough to cut steel. Jimin could feel the war brewing with every syllable Jungkook threw into the fire.

And yet, beneath all the fear, beneath the dread that whispered they’ll come for him, they’ll try to silence him, one truth roared louder in his head than anything else: Jimin had never been prouder. Never more in awe. Never more undone by love. Because this wasn’t just Jungkook exposing his father. This was Jungkook claiming him, claiming them, in front of the entire nation without a shred of doubt, and Jimin knew that he’d raze the entire world if anyone dared to touch him now. This time not in the dungeon… He would slash them and watch the blood spill publicly. 

His phone buzzed just as he killed the TV, Taehyung’s name flashing across the screen. Jimin hesitated… He needed to leave, he needed to attend the press meet, but he swiped to answer, pressing the phone to his ear as his other hand reached for his blazer.

“Tae…”

“Turn it back on! Jimin, listen… The UAE just released its investigation report. They caught the sniper. He confessed. He’s on his way to Washington right now under full security. And you’re not going to like this, but we were right. He works for Marcus’s brother”

For a second, the world tilted. Jimin froze, ears roaring at the words, a hint of pride flickering in his chest, his pulse spiking with cold clarity. Slowly, mechanically, he turned the screen back on, and there it was. The sniper’s image was plastered on every channel, and damning evidence was looped across the banners. Jungkook’s documents had lit the first spark, and now this was the inferno. It was happening. The beginning of the downfall. Jimin slipped into his blazer, a smirk forming on his lips, shoulders squaring as if the weight of an entire nation had just settled there. And yet, he wore it like armor. When he stepped out of his office, the building exploded into chaos. Media swarmed, microphones thrust forward, cameras flashing with urgency. But Jimin walked down those steps like he owned the ground beneath his feet.

“Marcus’s brother, Adrian White, is now under custody. He will be sent for the investigation to find out the reason behind the treacherous activities, along with the sniper arriving in Washington shortly under heavy security, and he will face trial for the crimes committed. Make no mistake, this government does not bend to shadows, and we do not bow to threats”

A ripple shot through the crowd, and the reporters' questions fired, but Jimin’s gaze swept over them, cutting through the frenzy with precision. He continued, voice smooth, magnetic.

“And while some would have you believe chaos rules, I stand here to confirm the opposite. Our alliances remain strong. Our negotiations with Russia have concluded successfully. In the coming months, new military manpower will be deployed, and advanced fighter jets will be integrated into our defense. We are not weakened. We are fortified”

Jimin raised a hand, just slightly, and the noise dimmed, morphing into murmurs, the reporters leaning in as if he held the air itself in his palm. The cameras flashed brighter, like lightning. His tailored suit caught the light, the slicked back blonde hair glimmering like moonlight, the sharp lines of his jaw, the unshakable gleam in his eye… All of it fed the image of a man untouchable, dangerous, and beautiful.

“Let this be clear…” 

He added, softer now, but no less lethal. 

“To those who thought fear would silence us: you have terribly miscalculated. To those who tried to draw blood from my people: You have failed. And to those who dared to think we would crumble… We are only getting stronger. Anyone who dares lay a hand on my people, my family…” 

Jimin paused, letting the weight settle over the cameras, crowd, and the millions of public watching him live. 

“Jeon Jungkook is mine. He is brilliant, untouchable, and anyone who thinks otherwise will regret it. I am proud, and I will never tolerate any kind of harm. Nothing, and no one touches what is mine”

Jimin turned, the media frenzy still alive around him, ignoring the onslaught of shouted questions. His bodyguards shielded him from every side as each step toward his waiting car was a declaration of power, of love, of possession. Jimin didn’t just survive the fire. He controlled it. They controlled it together, and anyone who dared challenge him or Jungkook would burn in the process.

.

.

.

The city lights flickered against the windows of their home, casting long, golden streaks across the polished marble floors. Jimin stepped inside, blazer neatly hung, tie loosened just enough to show he had survived… no, thrived the storm outside. His heels clicked softly against the marble as his eyes searched for Jungkook. The air felt charged, electric, like the entire world had shrunk to this one space. Jungkook emerged from the kitchen, glass of wine in hand, sleeves rolled, hair slightly messy, but as always, impossibly perfect. His eyes caught Jimin’s, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. 

“Well, Mr. Park…” 

He teased lightly, voice low, a note of wonder mixed with mischief. 

“All powerful and scary, yet here you are… home like a dutiful boyfriend”

“Scary?” 

Jimin countered, stepping closer, letting the faintest laugh escape. His gaze swept over Jungkook, lingering on the curve of his jaw, the glint in his eyes. “

"I think you’re the one who’s been wreaking havoc all day, darling”

They moved around each other like magnets, perfect, teasing, circling, every gesture deliberate and intimate. Jungkook brushed past Jimin, grazing his arm, and the older shivered, lips parting slightly. Jimin’s hand darted out, catching Jungkook by the waist, pulling him in just enough to press a fleeting, teasing kiss to the temple. 

“Maybe we should celebrate surviving the day… together” 

Jungkook murmured, and Jimin tilted his head, almond eyes glinting, smile sharp and warm at once. 

“Celebrate? I think we need… more than just wine”

Jimin cocked a brow, fingers easing under Jungkook’s shirt, squeezing the flesh of his bare waist. 

“Dance with me?”

Jimin asked in a small, fond tone, and Jungkook let out a giggle before nodding as the slow music played in the background. Jimin pressed a kiss to Jungkook’s knuckles, dramatically bowing like a prince before pulling him closer by the waist. The world narrowed to just the two of them… air thick with heat and laughter, fingers brushing, lips hovering. They danced around each other, spinning, swaying, giggling, hands on hips, brushing shoulders, laughter spilling in soft bursts. Then, without warning, Jimin stopped mid-step, locking eyes with Jungkook for a brief moment. The teasing vanished, replaced with something tender, unwavering. 

“Mhm?” 

Jungkook cocked his brow in confusion as Jimin pulled back, catching his breath, the warmth from the dance still lingering in his chest. Jimin’s hand found Jungkook’s, sliding fingers through his hair as if to anchor them both. 

“I know I am going to sound cliché, but… I don’t want to waste another second pretending this world can control us or that we need to hide” 

Jimin’s tone softened, filled with love and fire. 

“I want you. All of you. Every second. Every day. And I want it officially, for the rest of our lives”

Jungkook blinked, heart thundering, breath catching. He hadn’t expected this. Jimin didn’t even slip up a little.

“Hyung…” 

He whispered, already knowing where this was going, already melting at the intensity of Jimin’s gaze, and then Jimin dropped to one knee before he could overthink, heart pounding but hands steady, voice soft yet resonant. 

“Jungkook Jeon… will you do the honors of being my husband?”

The air seemed to pause, the electricity between them humming louder than any noise outside. Jungkook’s eyes glimmered, unsteady for just a moment, ears ringing with the deafening noise of Jimin’s words, heart caught in the intensity. And then, laughter bubbled out of him, pure, desperate, joyful.

“Yes!” 

Jungkook breathed, voice trembling with love, with desire, with everything he felt but could never fully put into words. 

“Yes, Jimin-ssi. Of course I will”

Jimin’s grin was feral and beautiful, rising to pull Jungkook into his arms, lifting him slightly off the ground, eliciting a laugh, as if the world itself had shrunk around them. They connected their lips, kissing as if to seal the moment before Jimin slid the ring that rested prettily on Jungkook’s finger. For a moment, there was only them: glowing, shining, fierce, in love beyond reckoning.

✦ ══ 🏛️ ══ ✦

~ 1 year later ~

The Power Couple Returns: Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook Shine at First Press Event

The newlyweds, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook, made their dazzling first public appearance today at a press conference attended by hundreds of journalists, dignitaries, and fans. The couple’s impeccable style and magnetic presence captured the hearts of everyone present, proving that their union is a cultural event. Social media platforms are already flooded with live coverage, making hashtags #JiminAndJungkook and #PowerCouple trend worldwide.

Crowds Erupt as Jimin and Jungkook Step Out Together for the First Time Post-Wedding

Fans, journalists, and well-wishers gathered in record numbers outside the press venue to catch a glimpse of the beloved couple. Jimin opted for a bold look: A black blazer with black leather pants, going shirtless, while Jungkook chose a similar style in pristine white. Witnesses describe the scene as electric, with applause and an outpouring of support for the pair. Inside, Jimin and Jungkook addressed the press with poise, briefly discussing their wedding, their shared vision for social initiatives, the opening of the new hospital, and their commitment to remaining public figures. The couple’s chemistry was undeniable, leaving even seasoned journalists in awe. 

Jungkook’s fingers skimmed over his phone, eyes scanning the screen with exaggerated intensity as the car rolled away from the press venue. Every headline, every caption, every flurry of fan comments was met with a dramatic gasp, a growl, or a slow shake of his head.

“‘Power Couple Melts Hearts at First Appearance’. Oh no, Hyung, they’ve already outdone themselves with all the fluff” 

Jungkook huffed, dropping his phone onto his lap, only to snatch it back and read another article aloud, his voice trembling dramatically like a voice actor. Jimin chuckled beside him, shoulders shaking with amusement, eyes glinting as he watched Jungkook’s over-the-top reactions. 

“How will the world survive your critique, Jeon Jungkook?”

Jungkook shot him a playful glare, though the corner of his lips twitched. 

“I cannot believe this. Look at this one: ‘Fans Swoon as Jimin Holds Jungkook’s Hand with Undeniable Affection.’ Swoon? Swoon?! Hyung, I am literally blushing and embarrassed for both of us”

“You do look adorable when you pretend to be scandalized” 

Jimin teased, reaching over to tug lightly at Jungkook’s sleeve as he shrugged. 

“I think I’ll post a picture of you like this… and watch the headlines tomorrow”

Jimin winked, and Jungkook groaned, throwing his head back, but a grin tugged at his mouth anyway. 

“You would love that”

Jimin’s thumb traced lazy circles along the inside of Jungkook’s wrist, a subtle, intimate contact amid the chaos of post-event adrenaline. Jungkook’s eyes softened, and he let out a little huff of laughter, shaking his head. 

“I totally would”

“Fine. But next time, you are being your drama queen self…. I refuse to hold back because they need to see past your sexy self”

“I agree, but only if you promise to kiss me in between every gasp that leaves my lips”

Jungkook didn’t need another invitation. His hand found Jimin’s, thumb brushing over the knuckles, fingers entwining, and he leaned in, voice low and teasing. 

“Deal”

And then Jungkook captured Jimin’s lips in a kiss, hand reaching out to rest on Jimin’s neck, tilting his head, and plunging his tongue to taste every inch of the cavern. Jimin melted instantly into the kiss, arms wrapping around Jungkook’s waist, pulling him closer as their breaths mingled. Jungkook’s fingers traced gentle patterns along the nape of Jimin’s neck, moving downward to trace the lines of his waist, while Jimin’s hands tangled in Jungkook’s hair delicately, pulling him a little closer, careful yet possessive. Their lips moved with soft precision, sweet and lingering, tasting each other with gentleness.

“You are stupidly in love, Jimin-ssi”

Jungkook smirked, eyes glinting with mischief and affection. 

“Yeah… I think I am doomed for life”

Jimin sighed fondly, and the car hummed along, but in that small cocoon of warmth and closeness, the world outside didn’t exist.