Chapter Text
The Grand Hall was prepared again, but this time, the spectacle was muted, draped in the formal sobriety of a necessary, delayed duty. The remaining candidates stood on the dais, their faces a mixture of strained anticipation and morbid curiosity.
Jungkook was a statue in his royal blue uniform. He stood next to his father, the King, his posture perfect, yet beneath the façade, he was coiled tight, ready to spring. He had returned from the forest mere hours ago, his heart now safe, his fury white-hot.
Beside the dais, Namjoon and Captain Byun were positioned, looking like watchful predators, ready to charge. Seokjin, standing near the royal box, eyes fully focused on Taehyung, who was standing between Min Yoongi and Choi Nari.
The King addressed the court, his voice booming with forced calm. “Tonight, we conclude The Selection officially, no more setbacks, no more disruptions. This is the day Crown Prince Jeon will announce his Consort-Select, ending this regrettable period of unrest. Even I, won't delay any longer my approval. Eldrin will finally have a Consort-Select.”
Jungkook stepped forward, his eyes scanning the room. They settled on Lady Seo and Lord Hwang, who stood side-by-side near the Council, expressions smugly expectant. They had fallen perfectly into the trap: believing the Prince, heartbroken and cornered by the Kingdom's pressures, had no choice but to choose one of the remaining contestants.
“There are five excellent candidates remaining,” Jungkook began, his voice clear and ringing. “All highly qualified for the honor. Yet, my final choice cannot be based on mere convenience, nor on the absence of those who have been wronged.”
Lady Seo’s smile faltered. Lord Hwang merely raised a skeptical eyebrow, a sneer twitching on his lips.
Jungkook reached into his jacket and drew out a small, metallic object: Jimin’s broken compass. He held it up, the glass glinting in the chandelier light.
“Days ago, my true choice was forced to stand here and make the ultimate sacrifice: to break my heart with a lie, to save his family from the treasonous hands of those who sought to manipulate the Crown,” Jungkook stated, his voice gaining lethal force. “He told me he was ‘not made for this life’ and that our love was merely a ‘key to a better life’ for his family. He lied because he knew he was already defeated.” The Hall began to buzz with confusion.
“But a victim’s fear is not a valid rejection,” Jungkook thundered. He tossed the compass lightly to Captain Byun, who caught it seamlessly. “It is an act of war against the Crown, and the true crime is not his refusal, but the abduction and coercion orchestrated by two nobles who stand in this very room!” He turned, facing the Council directly. “Captain Byun, present the evidence!”
Byun stepped forward, unrolling a large parchment. “Your Majesties, my Prince, evidence has been recovered proving that Lady Seo and Lord Hwang abducted the family of Mr. Park Jimin prior to The Selection Ceremony, using them to coerce his rejection. Further evidence, including a Hwang House medallion found at the scene of the abandoned Royal Escort carriage, and a detailed list of the conspirators' demands found at a hunting lodge owned by Lady Seo, proves treason against the Crown. The three missing Royal Guards have been recovered and confirmed the identities of their attackers as well as Park Jimin’s testimony.”
The court erupted. Lady Seo shrieked a denial, her hands flying up as if to ward off a blow, and Lord Hwang, his face suddenly a mask of venomous rage, lunged forward.
“This is a lie! The commoner’s trick!” Lord Hwang roared, trying to push through the crowd to flee, but Namjoon and two silent, massive Royal Guards blocked his path.
The ensuing struggle was brief and brutal. Lord Hwang drew a small, ornamental dagger from his sleeve, a desperate, final act. Before he could even lift his arm, Namjoon, with a speed that belied his calm demeanor, slammed a gauntleted fist into the Lord's kidney. Hwang gasped, the dagger clattering harmlessly to the marble floor as the Royal Guards immediately slammed him against a marble pillar and pinned his arms.
Jungkook ignored the chaos, stepping down from the dais until he was directly in front of Lady Seo. Her terror had curdled into a desperate, hateful spite.
“The King’s son protects the vermin who spurned him!” Lady Seo spat, venom dripping from every word. “You were supposed to choose a Queen, to secure the future of this kingdom, but your lust for that low-born filth has ruined everything! you can't even have a legitimate heir”
Jungkook’s eyes were black with righteous fury. He leaned in, his voice a lethal whisper only she could hear. “Your demand was simple: Reject him, push him into marrying a puppet, or your family dies. I refused to be cornered. I will not make a choice out of the lack of option, and I will not let a brave man’s sacrifice be in vain. You underestimated my resolve and our love.”
He signaled toward the Grand Hall’s main gate. The doors opened. Jimin stood there. He was dressed simply, but the fabrics were fine—a soft, pearl-grey tunic—having been rushed straight back to the palace after the rescue, but allowed a moment to change from his travel clothes. He was pale but unharmed, flanked by his visibly shaken but safe mother, Mi-yeon, and his brother, Jihyun.
Hours earlier, Captain Byun and a rapid response team, acting on a strategy orchestrated by Namjoon and Seokjin, had breached the concealed hunting lodge where the manor stood. The scene was quick and precise: two guards held to the ground, the remaining conspirators subdued.
Mi-yeon, exhausted and defiant, was found clutching Jihyun, who wept silently. Jimin, who had been separated from them after his refusal to cooperate further, had been found being held captive in an isolated room, still reeling from not being able to do more.
"The Prince refused to accept your lies" Byun had told a shocked Jimin. "He initiated his movements to find out the turth the second you left the Hall."
Jimin had simply broken, collapsing into a mix of relief and crushing guilt. The only thing that got him moving was the urgent need to see his family—and to stand by the man who risked a kingdom for him.
Now, standing in the doorway, Jimin saw the consequences and the defeat in the Hall. He saw Lady Seo being hauled away, shrieking obscenities, and Lord Hwang dragged past, spitting impotent threats.
Jungkook’s breath hitched. In the chaos of the rescue and the rush back, there had been no time for anything but terse commands and hurried reassurances.
Seeing Jimin now, whole and present, standing in the palace where he belonged, next to his family who was safe because of his sacrifice, shattered the Prince's carefully constructed professional façade.
“Jimin,” Jungkook breathed, the sound choked and thick with months of pain, fear, and now, overwhelming relief.
Jimin’s eyes, usually so full of gentle light, were wide and glossy with tears. He had done his terrible duty, had worn the mask of cold indifference to save his family and the man he loved, and now that man had seen through the act, defeated the enemies, and rescued his entire world.
They moved toward each other slowly, drawn by a gravity too strong to resist. The screams of the conspirators being dragged away and the astonished whispers of the court faded into a distant, muted backdrop. There was only the unbearable distance between them.
Mi-yeon, seeing her son and the Prince’s gaze locked on each other, stepped forward with a mother's courage. Her voice, though trembling, cut through the silence.
“Your Majesties, members of the Council,” she began, pulling Jihyun protectively closer. “We were held for many days. We were told our son had to choose his family over his heart. Lord Hwang and Lady Seo made it clear: rejection or death. There was no love-lost, only a sword held to a son's throat. My son Jimin’s words to the Prince were not a choice. They were a lie forced by treason.”
The court murmured, the truth now raw and undeniable. Jungkook closed the final step, his hands shooting out to cup Jimin’s face. He didn't kiss him immediately; instead, he searched his eyes, running his thumbs over the lingering shadows of fear beneath them, memorizing the truth in their familiar, beloved depths.
“I told you,” Jungkook murmured, his voice raw with devotion, “I would find out what broke us. And now that I have, the break is mended.”
Jimin couldn't speak, shaking his head rapidly, the tears finally spilling down his cheeks, wetting Jungkook’s hands. He reached up, grasping Jungkook’s wrists, clinging to the solid reality of his strength.
“I was so scared,” Jimin whispered, the confession tearing out of him. “I thought I’d lost you. I’m so sorry, my love, I’m so sorry I had to hurt you like that. I don't deserve you.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Jungkook commanded softly, pulling Jimin against his chest in a fierce, crushing embrace. He buried his face in Jimin’s hair, inhaling the faint, sweet scent that was finally, irrevocably safe. “The pain was my shield. The lie proved your love. You are the bravest man I have ever known. I hope to be always worthy of you, my darling.”
He pulled back, his eyes blazing with conviction. He turned to face the entire court, pulling Jimin by the hand until they stood on the steps of the dais.
“My Consort-Select is not a title to be forced, but a bond to be chosen freely and with love. The true crime was not the rejection, but the belief that I could be so easily manipulated into forgetting the depth of my heart.”
He knelt down on one knee, right there on the dais, ignoring the gasp of the King and the entire court. He could even swear he heard Kang Mina screeching somewhere. He looked up at Jimin, his eyes shining with pure, devoted love.
“Park Jimin,” he said, pulling a custom-made ring from his jacket pocket—not a Consort’s crest, but a beautiful band etched with the symbol of an eternal knot and glinting diamonds. “I ask you to be my life, my love, and my partner. Not my Consort-Select, but my beloved Prince Consort, chosen not by a system, but by my heart, and proven worthy by your courage. Will you stand by my side, not as a winner of The Selection but as my equal?”
Jimin’s composure broke completely. A sob escaped him, and he lowered his head, tears dripping onto Jungkook’s shoulder as he pulled the Prince up into a fierce, breathless embrace.
“Yes,” Jimin wept into his neck. “Always. Yes!” The King, who had been watching the dramatic display, slowly rose from his throne. A genuine, small smile touched his lips.
“Let it be remembered,” the King commanded, his voice firm and final. “Crown Prince of Eldrin, Jeon Jungkook has made his final, unassailable choice. He has chosen a true heart and a brave soul. Park Jimin shall be the Prince Consort.”
As the court erupted in cheers and applause, Jungkook and Jimin sealed their love with a deep, passionate, and powerful kiss, a promise of a future finally free of shadows.
After the passionate public display and the ensuing chaos of the conspirators’ arrests, the King dismissed the remaining court. Jungkook, still dizzy from the adrenaline and relief, found his father waiting for him near the royal box, Captain Byun standing a respectful distance away.
The King, a man known for his rigid adherence to tradition, did not look angry or disappointed. Instead, his expression was heavy with a rare, complex pride.
“In the end, you were wise Jungkook. I'm sorry I let judgment cloud me... I was harsh and stupid” the King said, his voice low, cutting through the receding echoes of the court’s gasps.
Jungkook straightened, ready for a lecture about propriety or political optics. “Father, I know the immediate fallout will be difficult, but—"
“Difficult? Nonsense,” the King interrupted with a dismissive wave. “You’ve arrested two treasonous, meddling nobles and secured the loyalty of the common people in one stroke. You proved that your heart rules, but that your head commands. You destroyed the threat from within.”
He placed a heavy, reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “I saw the boy, Jimin. I saw his family. He showed more courage in his rejection than any of those candidates showed in their ambition. He is worthy... I'm sorry I threatened him... I thought I was doing what was best for you and the kingdom. Your mother reminded me how a King needs a Consort who will rule with him, not one who will simply sit beside him.”
The King gave a small, genuine smile for the very first time in a while. “Go to him, son. Your duties tonight are complete. Tomorrow, we plan the wedding and the necessary trials for treason.”
Jungkook bowed deeply, his throat tight with unexpressed gratitude. “Thank you, Father.”
“One thing, my son,” the King added, his gaze flicking toward the corner where Jimin’s family was being quietly ushered away by a guard. “I saw the way you look at him. And I see the way Seokjin looks at that young candidate, Kim Taehyung. No more games, Jungkook. Eldrin will be ruled by strength, and strength starts with the truth. Secure your happiness.”
Jungkook nodded, a fierce determination settling in his eyes. The King’s approval was the final pillar of his victory.
Hours later, Jimin’s family, safe in the company of Taehyung and Seokjin, finally slept soundly in a protected wing of the palace.
Jungkook’s private chambers were a sanctuary. He and Jimin stood together in the center of the room, the scent of fresh roses filling the air, the world outside silenced by the heavy, ornate doors. They were finally, completely alone.
Jimin raised his hand, his fingers tracing the sharp, tense line of Jungkook’s jaw. “You’re safe,” he murmured, the words an affirmation that was also a prayer. “We’re safe.”
Jungkook covered Jimin’s hand with his own, pressing a kiss into the palm. “You are the safest thing I know, my darling. You always were.”
He began to unbutton his ceremonial uniform, the heavy fabric of the jacket falling away to reveal the simple white silk of his shirt. His movements were slow, deliberate, heavy with the weight of days of repressed feelings and desire.
Jimin watched him, eyes dark with mounting need. The formal barriers were gone; the political machinations were crushed. All that remained was the hungry, mutual love they had fought so hard to save.
Jimin stepped closer, his hands reaching to help with the buttons of Jungkook's shirt. His fingers brushed Jungkook’s skin, sending a shiver through them both. Jungkook captured his hands, pulling them away gently, and then reversed the action—reaching to loosen the simple ties of Jimin's tunic.
The coarse fabric was lifted over Jimin’s head and discarded, leaving him standing in nothing but soft linen trousers. The light of the single lantern in the room cast a warm, golden glow over the graceful line of his collarbones and the delicate curve of his waist.
“Beautiful,” Jungkook whispered, his voice low and ragged. He reached out and traced the path of the tear that had escaped Jimin in the annex, a ghost of pain now replaced by the flush of anticipation. “I thought I would never see you like this again. Just... mine. And now, you are.”
Jimin’s heart hammered against his ribs. He felt the intense vulnerability of a man finally dropping the last of his armor, giving himself completely to the one person who would never, ever hurt him again. He leaned forward, their foreheads touching.
“I am yours,” Jimin promised, his voice thick with emotion. “I have always been yours.”
Jungkook groaned, the last vestiges of control breaking. He captured Jimin’s lips in a desperate, urgent kiss, a collision of relief and passion. It wasn't tender; it was a hungry, reclaiming kiss, tasting of victory and devotion, demanding the intimacy they had been denied.
Jimin met his urgency, his hands diving beneath the silk of Jungkook’s shirt, seeking the solid muscle of his back, holding him tightly as if he might vanish. The shirt was shed, tossed carelessly aside.
Jungkook broke the kiss only to lift Jimin into his arms, carrying him the few steps to the immense bed. He lowered him onto the cool linen sheets, following him down instantly, covering him with his body and the warmth of his love.
The rest of the clothes followed quickly—a frenzied, necessary shedding of the last barriers. The rough linen trousers and the fine royal breeches fell to the floor, forgotten.
Jungkook looked down at Jimin, utterly ethereal in the soft light of the room, his body trembling beneath him. He was a vision of pure, giving surrender.
“No more disruptions,” Jungkook breathed, his eyes locked on Jimin's. He moved between Jimin's legs, settling his weight heavily, gently, against him.
Jimin arched up, a soft cry catching in his throat, welcoming the solid, reassuring pressure. He wrapped his legs around Jungkook’s waist, pulling him closer, ready to be entirely consumed by the man who had rescued his soul.
Jungkook shifted, guiding himself into the familiar entrance, desperate to have him, waiting until Jimin was ready to take him in.
“My darling,” Jungkook commanded softly, his forehead touching Jimin’s once more. “I love you more than anything. You are my home. You are my victory.”
“Come home,” Jimin whispered back, a desperate invitation, his hips tilting up.
Jungkook entered him completely, a slow, deep surge that was met with a mutual cry of relief and sensation. He settled, feeling the perfect, familiar warmth of Jimin surrounding him, erasing the cold, anxious days.
The movements began, a steady, rhythmic rhythm that quickly escalated into passionate intensity. This wasn't merely physical release; it was a reaffirmation of their bond, every thrust a promise, every soft gasp a renewal of their vows, a silent, furious celebration of their freedom.
Jungkook moved with powerful reverence, pouring every bit of his love, his fear, and his triumph into the act.
Jimin was completely lost in sensation, his hands clenching at Jungkook’s shoulders and back, his body arching with pleasure. He cried out Jungkook’s name, the sound broken but beautiful, a song of pure devotion.
As the pleasure crested, taking them both in a powerful, synchronized wave, Jungkook leaned down, claiming Jimin’s lips again. He kissed him deeply as they both cried out, finding their release, their bodies convulsing with the intensity of their connection.
They collapsed together, bodies slick with sweat and emotion, their hearts hammering against each other’s chests.
Jungkook shifted, rolling onto his back and pulling Jimin tightly against his side, tucking his head beneath his chin. Jimin was spent, breathing heavily, feeling the soft weight of his lover’s arm secured around him.
Jimin traced the faint outline of the royal crest on Jungkook's collarbone. “We did it,” Jimin murmured into the quiet.
“We won,” Jungkook corrected, his voice heavy with sleepy satisfaction. He pressed a kiss to the crown of Jimin’s head, holding him tighter. “Now, we rest. And tomorrow, we begin our life together”
The broken compass was forgotten. The political games were over. They were simply two men, two lovers, finally safe, finally home, entangled in the peaceful, hard-won reality of their love.
While Jungkook and Jimin were sealing their love in the privacy of the Prince’s chambers, two other men finally found their moment of quiet, desperate relief.
Seokjin, who had stood guard near the royal box—his eyes tracking every movement of the conspirators and every tremor of fear on the candidates’ faces—finally lowered his professional mask. He moved swiftly through the clearing hall until he reached the remaining Selection candidates.
Taehyung stood rigid, still wearing the beautiful, restrictive silks of a contender, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion. All night, he had watched the drama unfold: the revelation, the arrests, and the agonizing, beautiful reunion of his friends. He was overjoyed for Jimin, but the terrifying firestorm left him shaken.
“Taehyung,” Seokjin murmured, his voice husky, reaching out to gently touch the younger man’s arm.
Taehyung flinched, then quickly spun around, his eyes wide and glistening. He was no longer the confident, charming candidate; he was simply Kim Taehyung, vulnerable and deeply worried.
“Jinnie,” Taehyung whispered, a flood of relief washing over him. “It’s over. They’re safe. Everyone is safe.”
“Yes, they are,” Seokjin confirmed, his strong hands cupping Taehyung’s face, mirroring Jungkook’s earlier action. He ran his thumb across the faint red mark the silk collar had left on Taehyung’s neck. “And so are you. You stood there, Tae, through all of that madness. You kept your composure.”
“I was terrified, Jin,” Taehyung admitted, leaning into the warmth of Seokjin’s hands. “I thought if this went wrong, if Jungkook had failed, we would lose them. And I thought I would lose you, too. This world… it’s too cruel for something so beautiful.”
Seokjin let out a breathy laugh, pulling Taehyung into a protective, bone-crushing hug—the first time he had allowed himself such public intimacy since getting with the contestant. He buried his face in Taehyung's hair, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of lavender and expensive silk.
“Cruel, yes,” Seokjin agreed fiercely, his voice vibrating against Taehyung’s ear. “But we are stronger than that. The King just gave Jungkook his blessing—not just for Jimin, but for the principle of truth and courage over convenience.”
He pulled back, his dark eyes shining with fierce affection. “You have suffered enough being held in this cage. Your presence here, has changed me. But I refuse to let you stand on a dais again for any reason other than to exchange vows.”
Taehyung’s eyes widened, a smile slowly breaking through his tears. “Vows? Seokjin, that’s…”
Seokjin smiled, a breathtaking, confident smile that promised everything. “I am royal Kim Seokjin, nephew of King Jeon. I now I have more than enough standing to finally ask for your hand, openly and properly, without The Selection looming over us. You always said you don’t need a crown, Tae. You need security and a man who loves you deeply.”
“I love you, Seokjin, it has always been you” Taehyung choked out, finally free to say the words he’d hidden from the world, publicly concealed behind polite smiles, soft touches and knowing glances for months.
“Then the battlefield is clear,” Seokjin said, releasing one hand from Taehyung’s face to reach into his own pocket. He pulled out a simple, beautiful silver ring—a heavy signet he usually wore on his own hand, but now offered as a promise. “This is not a proposal yet—you deserve far better than the hallway after an arrest—but it is a promise. Wait for me, openly, freely, as my partner.”
Taehyung took the ring, his fingers trembling, and slid it onto his right ring finger. “Always.”
He initiated the kiss this time: a tender, yet resolute, meeting of lips. It was a kiss of quiet victory, of promised future, and of a bond finally acknowledged in the clear light of day. The cheers for the Crown Prince had faded, but a new, quieter celebration began right there in the empty, marble-floored hall.
The passage of time was marked not by days, but by the relentless march of justice and the joyous preparations for a historic event. Lord Hwang and Lady Seo faced swift, rigorous trials, the evidence against them irrefutable. Their treason secured their fates, and their influence in the palace was erased, clearing the political field for the new regime of honesty and love.
The royal decree announcing the marriage was met with overwhelming public support, a wave of relief washing over the common people who celebrated the victory of a man of the people over the corrupt nobility.
Two months after the tumultuous night of the declaration, the Grand Hall was prepared one more time. Now, there were no strained faces, no political maneuvering, and no fear. The spectacle was one of pure, unrestrained celebration, draped in the vibrant colors of Eldrin's springtime and countless garlands of white and purple roses.
The music swelled, a traditional Eldrin processional mixed with modern, hopeful strains.
Jungkook stood waiting at the altar, regal in a white and gold royal uniform. His gaze was fixed on the grand doors. He was no longer the coiled, furious Prince of the confrontation; he was simply a man radiating peace and ecstatic anticipation. His parents, the King and Queen of Eldrin, stood nearby, looking on with easy, genuine smiles.
Then, the doors opened. Jimin entered, escorted by his proud, tearful mother and brother. He wore an exquisitely tailored, flow-white ensemble, embroidered with silver threads that caught the light like stardust. He moved with a grace that was entirely his own, his every step shedding the last vestiges of fear and the burden of his past sacrifice. He was not walking toward uncertainty; he was walking toward destiny.
When their eyes finally met across the length of the hall, the roar of the gathered guests—from high nobility to the newly invited commoners, including a beaming group of new-found family —faded to a silent hum.
Jungkook took a decisive step forward, unable to wait another moment, meeting Jimin halfway down the aisle. He gently took Jimin’s hand from his mother and bowed politely to her, thanking her for Jimin. His thumb brushing over the simple, promise ring already on Jimin’s finger.
“I had never known beauty as ethereal as yours, my love. You look like the victory you are,” Jungkook murmured, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes drinking in the sight of his love, finally, truly his.
Jimin simply squeezed his hand, a tear tracing a path down his cheek. “You are as radiant as the sun itself, my handsome prince. You look like home.”
The ceremony was brief, focusing not on royal decree but on mutual devotion. Instead of reciting the traditional, antiquated vows that placed the consort below the crown, Jungkook and Jimin exchanged words they had written themselves—vows that echoed the courage and commitment that had saved them.
Jungkook looked at the man who had faced all obstacles to protect their love. “Park Jimin, I vow to you not merely the title of Consort, but the honor of my equal partner in all things. I promise to rule Eldrin with the same honesty and conviction with which I searched for you in the darkness. I promise you peace, happiness, laughter, undying love and a life free of shadows. You saved my soul from the moment I met you, and for that, I am eternally yours.”
Jimin, his voice clear and ringing with absolute confidence, returned his vow. “Jeon Jungkook, my love, my prince. I came into this palace believing I was full of weakness. You taught me all my greatest strengths, especially our love. I vow to stand beside you, a shield against all enemies, an honest mirror to your heart, and a steadfast home when the weight of the crown is too heavy. I choose you and love you, freely and forever.”
As they exchanged their new rings—the King performed the final, unifying ceremony, binding their hands together with a silken cord.
“The bond is sealed. Eldrin’s Crown Prince and Prince Consort are now joined.”
Jungkook didn't hesitate. He pulled Jimin into a deep, consuming kiss—a kiss that carried the flavor of victory, the sweetness of relief, and the power of their destiny. It was a promise, loud and clear, that their love was not a fairy tale ending, but a hard-won foundation upon which a better kingdom would be built.
The hall erupted in deafening cheers. Flower petals rained down, and the entire court rose in unison to celebrate the couple who had redefined love and leadership.
In a quiet moment, as they stood on the steps of the dais, the light glinting off the rings that bound them, Jimin leaned into Jungkook to kiss him tenderly.
“We won, didn’t we?” Jungkook wrapped his arm firmly around Jimin’s waist, pulling him against his side, his smile radiating pure happiness. “No, my love. We just began.”
They were simply two men, two lovers, now bound by oath, finally safe, finally home, ready to rule together, entangled in the peaceful, beautiful reality of their shared future.
The official ceremony had concluded. Jungkook and Jimin, now finally and officially bonded, were being ushered toward a private side room to prepare for their quick departure for the honeymoon villa. The Grand Hall was still a swirling chaos of celebratory cheers and music, but the four men found a moment of quiet near a set of massive, velvet-draped windows.
Seokjin and Taehyung approached the newlyweds, with Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok forming a protective, happy perimeter a few steps behind.
Jimin, still slightly breathless from the public kiss and the weight of his emotions, immediately broke ranks, throwing his arms around Taehyung.
“Tae, my beautiful friend” Jimin whispered, burying his face in his neck. “Thank you for everything. For staying be my side for giving me strength from the beginning”
Taehyung hugged him back fiercely. “I wouldn’t have done it amy other way, my Jiminie. You and Jungkook are the future. I’m so happy you’re finally married.”
Jungkook clapped Seokjin on the shoulder, a genuine, joyful grin replacing his usual Prince-like composure. “Cousin, thank you. I didn't have the chance to properly thank you for the strategy, for all your support and for standing by us.”
“You are like my brother, Jungkook, I will always stand by you” Seokjin replied, his eyes sparkling, but then his expression turned playfully stern. “Though I will submit a formal complaint later about the excessive physical affection demonstration on the dais. The King had a coughing fit.”
Jungkook laughed. “He deserved it. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a beautiful honeymoon villa waiting for us.”
Seokjin cleared his throat, a subtle signal to Jungkook that their conversation wasn't quite finished. He took Taehyung’s hand, lifting it slightly so that the silver signet ring glinting on Taehyung’s finger was visible.
“Actually, lovebirds,” Seokjin said, his voice imbued with a quiet, profound pride, “Taehyung and I had a bit of news of our own we wanted to share before you leave. With the political waters finally cleared, and the King’s new disposition toward ‘strength through truth’ firmly established…”
He squeezed Taehyung’s hand, meeting his eyes with an undeniable devotion. “Kim Taehyung has agreed to become my husband. It’s not an official announcement yet—we’ll have our own ceremony once everything is .pre settled —but the promise has been made. We are engaged.”
Jimin gasped, his hand flying to his mouth, tears instantly welling up again. “Tae! Oh, Seokjin, that’s wonderful! I knew it! I knew you two would soon do this. I'm so happy truly. You both deserve this love”
Jungkook looked from Seokjin to Taehyung, a slow, understanding smile spreading across his face. He nodded, impressed. “A beautiful decision, Jin. And a much braver choice than any political match. Taehyung, you will make him a deeply happy man. Congratulations. Both of you.”
Taehyung, holding Seokjin’s hand tightly, was beaming. “We learned from the best. Seeing you two risk everything for what was real… that gave us the final push.”
Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok stepped forward, Namjoon giving a respectful bow to the newly married couple. “Finally, we can all have a simple meals without checking over our shoulders,” Namjoon quipped, making everyone laugh.
“You earned this happiness, both of you,” Hoseok added, his smile bright and genuine. “Now go. The kingdom can wait a week. You’ve earned the rest.”
Jungkook took Jimin’s hand, the heavy weight of their new rings knocking gently against each other. “We’re ready.” He looked at their circle of friends—their new found and chosen family. “When we return, we begin planning yours, Jin.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Seokjin promised with a wink. "And maybe Yoongi and Hoseok’s one after" He joked making the pair blush but holding hands.
With final hugs and whispered vows of reunion, Crown Prince Jeon Jungkook and his Prince Consort Park Jimin turned and walked away toward their new life, their friends’ joyful eyes watching them go.
The air in the secluded royal villa was thick with the scent of sea salt and night-blooming jasmine. Outside, the moon cast a silver path across the ocean; inside, the heavy silk curtains filtered the light, making the massive bed a private sanctuary. Jimin lay on his side, watching Jungkook, who was just now shedding the last of his formal wear—not a uniform this time, but fine velvet trousers tossed carelessly onto a chaise.
Jungkook crossed the room, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring the sight of Jimin waiting for him. Their eyes locked—a profound, trembling silence passing between them, acknowledging the terrible distance hunger for the other that had been bubbling since the early morning.
The kiss that followed was a dizzying collision of devotion and demand. It was a reclaiming, deep and possessive, tasting of relief and the promise of forever. Jimin met the intensity, winding his arms around Jungkook’s neck, pulling him closer, pressing himself against the solid, familiar wall of muscle. He gasped into the kiss as Jungkook’s hand ran down his waist, his touch no longer just careful but possessive—a lover staking his claim.
Jungkook broke the kiss, his lips trailing fire across Jimin’s jaw, down his throat, and to the hollow of his collarbone. "I have wanted this since the moment you walked into that Hall ready to be my husband," he murmured, his voice a low, ragged vow. "To worship you. To love you for eternity and beyond. To never have to be separated from you again."
"Never, my love" Jimin whispered, his voice thick with unspent tears and desire. "We belong to each other, forever."
Jimin reached to discard the last of their clothing until they lay bare on the cool sheets, their skin touching, a universe of sensation exploding between them.
Jungkook lowered himself to the curve of Jimin’s inner thigh, his eyes dark with a powerful mixture of reverence and hunger.
"Look at me, my love," Jungkook commanded, his voice a low plea. "Let me see all of you. You are everything to me"
Jimin shifted, his vulnerability dissolving into trust as he stared back into Jungkook's devoted eyes, giving his silent, absolute assent.
Slowly, carefully, Jungkook brought two fingers, warm and slick, to the tender, familiar skin. He began a slow, deliberate exploration, his gaze fixed on Jimin’s face, watching the effect of his touch.
Jimin gasped, throwing his head back against the pillows. The intimate focus drew a sharp moan from his throat. Jungkook’s touch was maddeningly slow, building the heat, tracing the contours of his pleasure with a meticulousness that spoke of total devotion, a lover cherishing every inch of his beloved. He felt the exquisite, demanding stretch, a friction that was driving him rapidly toward the edge.
As Jungkook deepened the stretch, Jimin choked out, "I need you, my love, I'm ready. I need you to break the distance." His hips began to move instinctively, tilting and meeting the pressure, desperate for the rhythm Jungkook was creating. He needed to feel the full, undeniable force of Jungkook, and he tried to shift, urging the Prince on.
A third finger joined the firsts, and the rhythm quickened, pulling Jimin into a state of pure physical reaction. He cried out as Jungkook leaned down, adding a wet, deep suction on Jimin’s nipple that stole the air from his lungs and shattered his control. The powerful spasm rocked his body, an urgent, beautiful relief.
Jimin moaned out, burying his face in the pillow, a powerful spasm rocking his body as the pleasure became too much, too quick and yet, not enough. Jungkook held him through the shuddering release, his breath hot against Jimin's skin.
"So beautiful," Jungkook breathed, his voice raw, moving between Jimin’s legs, settling his weight heavily. "I'm so utterly devastatingly and irrevocably in love with you, my darling."
He entered, slow and deep, a unifying surge that was met with a powerful, mutual groan. The sense of completeness was overwhelming. Jimin wrapped his legs tight around Jungkook's waist, pulling him in and locking him there.
The movements began, deliberate and heavy, quickly escalating into a fierce, passionate rhythm. Every thrust was a reassurance, a promise of their future ahead. Jungkook drove with a potent, demanding energy.
Jimin was completely unraveled, riding the wave of sensation. "Mine," he gasped, his nails digging into Jungkook’s back. "You are only mine. I love you, my husband."
"Yours, only yours, my angel" Jungkook confirmed, his voice a guttural declaration. "I love you."
He moved faster, harder, pushing them both to the edge of their control. Jimin cried out Jungkook's name, the sound of their passion echoing in the silent room.
As the pressure mounted, taking them both to the highest peak, Jungkook leaned down, claiming Jimin’s lips in a desperate, final kiss.
"Forever, Jimin, my darling" he commanded against Jimin's mouth. "Forever, my prince." He demanded more, urging Jungkook faster, their bodies slick and unified under the golden light.
They crested together, the simultaneous release tearing a broken, ecstatic cry from Jimin’s throat as their bodies convulsed, clinging to the sensation and to each other marking this moment as the true beginning of their lifes together.
Afterward, as they lay tangled in bed, slick with sweat and emotion, Jimin nestled his head against Jungkook’s chest. The strong, steady thrum of Jungkook’s heart beneath his ear was the only sound in the world. He was safe, he was loved, and he was home. They fell asleep with smiles full of happiness and love, finally having conquered The Selection.
For the first time, everyone could simply exist in joy, passion, and affection, without fear — and for Jungkook and Jimin, that meant every day could end this way: together, intimately, fully, and forever.