"Jungkook, lift your arm," Jimin giggled, glancing at their reflection in the gym mirror. Jungkook stood close behind him, his strong arms wrapped snugly around Jimin's waist. Jimin could feel the playful squeeze on his hips, the grey sweatpants he'd borrowed from Jungkook hanging just a little too loose.

"But I like holding you better," Jungkook murmured, his voice warm. He leaned in, brushing his nose against Jimin's scent gland, drawing an uncontrollable laugh from Jimin as he squirmed slightly. Jimin's laughter grew louder when Jungkook pressed a kiss to the mating mark on his neck.

They had mated after a full year of dating, though it hadn't happened as either of them had imagined. For months, they'd shared countless conversations about how they wanted to seal their bond: a romantic dinner or a cozy night in with wine and candles. Maybe a trip out of Seoul, go to Jeju, or somewhere crazy like New York. But in the end, Jungkook bit down the mating mark on the most ordinary day.

They had just moved into a bigger apartment, signing the lease after saving for months. Jungkook had cooked dinner to celebrate while Jimin hovered in the kitchen, claiming to help but mostly sneaking bites of food. Later, they ended up on their new couch, tucked under a blanket, watching The Breakfast Club—an old American rom-com about misfit students in detention.

Something about the simplicity of it all—the warmth of their shared space, the hum of the TV in the background, and the rare stillness after weeks of chasing their careers—stirred their wolves awake. Without them realizing it, their wolves responded to the intimacy of the moment. Their bodies began moving, and their lips found each other in the effortless way they always did, but there was something different to it that day. An extra charge to the energy that sparked between them, an adoring rawness that was both consuming and primal.

By the time the credits rolled, Jungkook's teeth were in Jimin's shoulder, and a low, rumbling purr filled the air. Jimin's irises glowed gold as Jungkook's darkened to pitch black, the love between them permanently claimed. They were tied, their souls bound together in a way that no ceremony or grand gesture could replicate.

They weren't ready for marriage just yet, wanting to wait until they were older. But their wolves had been impatient, craving the connection only a mark could provide. It wasn't how Jimin had imagined their official mating going, but it was perfect nonetheless—lighthearted, spontaneous, and utterly domestic. It summed up their relationship pretty well.

That wasn't to say Jungkook wasn't there when things got hard. In fact, it was the opposite. Jimin had never met someone who could ground him the way Jungkook did.

That year, Jimin's relationship with his mother was a whirlwind of highs and lows. He wrestled with the growing disappointment when she didn't show up for him in the ways he needed and felt overwhelmed when she actually did. His graduation from MMCA had been particularly charged—an emotional mind-fuck made worse by his father's unexpected appearance. The day had culminated in a screaming match outside the dinner venue, the years of radio silence between them crashing into Jimin's anger at his father's audacity to show up unannounced.

His friends were a lifeline through it all, offering the deep, nuanced emotional support Jimin needed when he felt like venting, analyzing, and unraveling the mosaic of his history. They helped him make sense of how the years of pain and longing had culminated in the sharp betrayal and heartbreak of facing what he thought he'd always wanted—his parents playing an active role in his life.

Taehyung had called him after hearing about the fight from Seokjin, patiently listening as Jimin spilled every detail over the phone. There was a gentle kindness in how his friends all showed up for him, creating space to grieve, process, and indulgently unravel.

But it was Jungkook who pieced Jimin back together after he had calmed down. While his friends gave him the space to fall apart, Jungkook was the steady hand that helped him rebuild, guiding him toward clarity and healing.

At their apartment, Jungkook sat Jimin down and calmly worked through his emotions with the precision of an athlete dissecting a play. Together, they made a plan for how Jimin could approach his parents when he was ready. He decided to have an honest conversation with both of them—laying bare how abandoned he had felt, caught in the crossfire of drama he never asked for, and asking for clarity on moving forward with each of them.

Afterward, Jungkook kissed Jimin's cheek and put on the dumbest movie Jimin had ever seen in his entire life: The Room by Tommy Wiseau. Jimin found himself laughing by the time the movie ended, and it was time to go to bed. The film was ridiculous, incomprehensible, and somehow exactly what he needed. When the credits rolled, Jimin had texted Namjoon and Taehyung about it, sure the film's terrible directing choices and god-awful line delivery would be right up their alley. It felt good to send it to both of them, talking to Taehyung like he was a friend again and not some stranger he had to be careful around. Both alphas liked his text, calling the movie a stoner classic.

Jimin and Jungkook fought sometimes, too. Their relationship wasn't a perfect fairytale, but even their arguments felt natural. Jungkook saw the world differently than Jimin, which wasn't a bad thing. Sometimes, things simply ran deeper for Jimin than Jungkook initially realized.

Jimin was completely and utterly valid in how hard he took someone's harsh words, how he struggled to navigate the complexity of shifting relationships in his life, or the days when creative exhaustion from an art project truly drained him. But those were also moments when Jungkook didn't always know how to help, and that helplessness could lead to conflict. Still, they always worked through it. Each argument taught them how to communicate more clearly and how to navigate their different takes on situations. Their fights never became toxic or damaging. They were simply part of the process, part of learning to grow together.

Their whole relationship was healthy, grounded, real, and deeply fulfilling, and Jimin was in love with every aspect of it.

"You're being gross. I'm all sweaty because of you and your stupid ab workout." Jimin snorted.

"I don't care," Jungkook said, his voice tender now, the teasing fading into something softer. "You're mine, sweaty or not."

"Gross," Jimin exaggerated, but his blush gave him away. "Just lift your sexy bicep so I can take a cute photo of us." He raised his phone, positioning it to cover his face in the mirror.

With a dramatic sigh, Jungkook rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt, showing off his toned shoulders. Jimin's scent shifted, sweetening as it mixed with the sweat clinging to them both. Jungkook's grin turned feral in the mirror as he sensed it, and Jimin rolled his eyes—as if Jungkook's earthy scent hadn't deepened the moment Jimin had stripped off his t-shirt during their workout.

Jimin knew he looked hot. He'd always been beautiful; that was one thing he'd always been confident about. But ever since he'd started joining Jungkook for workout dates, his body had changed. A defined V-line had appeared by his hips, the faint outline of his abs began to show, and his biceps were more sculpted. Jimin was still small, but his body had shifted from lean to something more defined—like a modern-day Greek statue, with etched muscles still holding a delicate softness. There was a gentle curve to his legs, to his ass, that balanced out the strength in his frame.

His face remained as pretty as ever, though his cheeks had slimmed slightly, giving his cheekbones a sharper definition that made him look absolutely devastating. Jungkook would devour him no matter what, but it still sent a thrill down Jimin's spine every time the alpha got to see the full effect of the workouts on his body.

Jimin liked it, too, simply because he felt hot. There was nothing deeper to it than that.

Jimin lifted his arm to mirror Jungkook's flexed bicep, his entire frame shadowed by the alpha behind him. Jungkook lowered one hand to hold Jimin's waist—because Luna forbid the alpha didn't for even a second. Jimin tilted his chin, making sure the mating mark was visible and held his phone with both hands to snap a few photos of them.

"All done," Jimin said, lowering the phone and turning in Jungkook's grip. He stood on his tiptoes, pressing a sweet peck to Jungkook's cheek before pretending to gag at how sweaty and post-workout he was. Jungkook laughed, the sound warm and rumbling, before he swept Jimin up in one swift motion, making the omega yelp and almost drop his phone.

Jimin squirmed as he realized Jungkook was heading toward the shower. With a quick move, the alpha plucked Jimin's phone from his grasp and snapped a photo of him holding Jimin up, making sure to get a good angle of his ass in the sweatpants before tossing it onto his gym bag with a flourish. Then, without missing a beat, Jungkook headed toward the public showers, Jimin still in his arms.

Of course, Jungkook wouldn't wait until they were home in their new apartment to shower. Not when Jimin's scent had grown so inviting, so intoxicating, that even Jimin's own mating mark was beginning to burn and itch—like his wolf might claw its way through the imprint just to tackle Jungkook himself.

Jungkook chose the last shower at the end of the long row, swinging the door open before gently setting Jimin down on the ground. Jimin rolled his eyes, his smile widening as he quickly raised his hand to cover the blush creeping across his cheeks. Jungkook crouched down, delicately pulling the fabric of Jimin's sweatpants off of him. He made sure that every lift and push of his knuckles deliberately brushed down Jimin's legs as he did so.

"Are you still up for pottery with Seokjin on Friday?" Jimin asked, slipping out of his sweats and reaching for Jungkook's t-shirt as he stood. He pulled it off with the same care and reverence Jungkook had just shown him but let his nails scrape up the definition of Jungkook's chest. There were still some red marks from the scratches he had left the night before, and Jimin eyed them like they were a pretty piece of art. "I know we go every week, but I wasn't sure if your interview for that sportscasting job was at the same time."

Jungkook's eyes flickered with mischief. "Oh, I'm definitely making it to pottery, Jimin. Did you see the mug Seokjin made last week? I'm going to bury myself in clay until I make a better handle than his. The instructor is gonna cry from my masterpiece—then Seokjin, too."

Jimin snorted, reaching for Jungkook's sports shorts and pulling them off him before stepping out of his own boxers. He turned around, starting the hot water, a small grin tugging at his lips as Jungkook's hands naturally found his waist. Jimin joked to himself that he might as well get Jungkook's handprints tattooed there, permanently marking the spot. It would pair cohesively well with the storm of ink covering Jungkook's arm.

"Taehyung and Hoseok might stop by too," Jimin said, surprised at how light it felt to mention Taehyung again. It had taken almost the entire two years since their awkward goodbye at the jazz club to rebuild their friendship. They still had a way to go, but it was nice that it no longer bore the same weight to consider as it once had.

Apparently, Hoseok and Taehyung had kept in touch after their presentation night all those years ago. Hoseok had Taehyung's number and would check in regularly. They started walking together at the park, and Hoseok invited Taehyung to leisurely play basketball, which eventually led to Taehyung inviting Hoseok out for drinks at the jazz clubs where he performed. Somewhere along the way, they found something real, something deeper, and their relationship took on a life of its own.

It was still new, just a few months in, but the fact that Taehyung had found someone had given both Jimin and Taehyung the closure they needed. The awkward tension from their farewell had finally faded, and they could both move on, reconnecting in a natural and freeing way.

"Too bad they're not as dexterous," Jungkook said, his voice low as he breathed in Jimin's scent, stepping closer so the water hit their hair and rolled down their bodies, soaking in the closeness between them.

"Dexterous?" Jimin lifted an eyebrow, clearly amused.

Jungkook smirked, tapping each of his fingers against Jimin's waist as if demonstrating his point. "I'm pretty talented with my hands, Jimin-ah. It's why I'm a fucking beast at pottery. Hoseok and Taehyung don't even know how badly they're about to get bodied by us if they end up joining."

Jimin frowned. "Babe, your bowl exploded last week in the kiln. And that's after I had to calm you down when the clay collapsed—three times. I'm not sure where this new-found confidence in art is coming from."

"Maybe," Jungkook shrugged, unbothered. "But now I've got experience and anger management under my belt. Not bad for a beginner." His grin turned adorably goofy. "And—who's to say I wasn't faking being bad at it, so you'd have to sit in my lap and teach me?"

Jimin rolled his eyes, a laugh escaping as he nudged Jungkook's chest. "Oh, for sure. Definitely that."

Jimin grabbed for some shampoo, and as the water continued to cascade over them, Jungkook looked down at him, his gaze intense. Jimin's smile softened into something shy as he reached up, his fingers threading through his boyfriend's hair, gently massaging the shampoo into the dark strands. Jungkook's eyes darkened just slightly, his focus narrowing as if Jimin held the entire world in his hands. Jimin's heart skipped a beat, his blush deepening. He paused for a moment before tilting his chin and capturing Jungkook's lips in a slow, tender kiss.

Two years of kissing the same mouth, and yet each time still felt like the first. His omega purred softly in his chest, a single word thrumming with each tender push and pull of their lips: home. Jungkook's arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer, trapping him against the bathroom wall as his back took the full force of the hot water pouring down from the showerhead.

Some things were simply meant to happen, no matter how different their worlds were, how odd they sometimes found each other's thought processes, or how much they had grown to shape and change each other. Everyone has a choice in how deeply they let events shape their lives—and when it came to Jungkook, Jimin was grateful to have his life shaped by loving him.

* * *

"EEK—this is perfect!" Jimin squealed, stepping into the rented art studio nestled in the heart of downtown Gangnam. The space exuded luxury, with walls meticulously arranged in a U-shape to showcase his artwork. Black flooring stretched across the room, its glossy surface catching hints of the afternoon light filtering through tall, tinted windows.

Kim Yoona stood by the lighting panel, a proud grin on her face as a little girl darted around her feet.

"Just wait," Yoona said, her smirk growing as she flipped a switch. The studio plunged into darkness, and then—soft white lights illuminated the empty spaces where Jimin's paintings would soon hang. The effect was stunning, the glow framing each slot like an eclipsed sun.

Jimin gasped, his excitement spilling over as he let go of his two-year-old twins' hands. They giggled and shuffled off to play with Yoona's daughter, their laughter filling the space. Who would have guessed that six years after completing their fellowship, he and Yoona would become friends?

After graduating from MMCA, Yoona pursued a career as an event coordinator, and Jimin stayed in touch with her, often running into her at various art events around Seoul. When the time came for Jimin to start organizing his own art shows, reaching out to her felt natural. What began as casual catch-up conversations evolved into a professional partnership, with Yoona becoming Jimin's go-to person whenever he needed someone to brainstorm ideas with or fine-tune the vision for his collections.

Early in Jimin's career, he experienced a meteoric rise in popularity, gaining recognition for his masterful storytelling and the heartfelt way he wove his husband into each collection as a centerpiece. The love story in his art resonated deeply, captivating audiences and critics alike, and Yoona had helped him turn the public's excitement into something long-lasting.

Jimin had always respected Yoona's talent, even when her sharp opinions had grated on his nerves during their younger years. Her critiques, while biting, were undeniably insightful. Over time, Jimin came to appreciate her unrelenting passion for art. Her discerning eye was something truly remarkable, and her ability to elevate creative visions made her an invaluable collaborator.

Against all odds, the two formed an unexpected camaraderie. Their shared love for creativity forged a deep connection, evolving into a kindship that balanced mutual respect with the occasional clash of their strong personalities. What had once been incredibly annoying was now just reminiscent of their youth, and, in the simplest way, Jimin found it rather fun.

Yoona flipped the switch again, flooding the room with warm light. "Your Black Swan collection is going to look fucking beautiful," she said confidently. "Did you have a chance to decide on the music? Are we leaning toward orchestra, or do you want the water sounds?"

Jimin's gaze drifted to his twins, their laughter echoing softly in the spacious studio. The two little girls were a perfect blend of him and Jungkook. They had their father's wide, round eyes and scrunched their noses just like Jungkook did when he was deep in thought. Yet, they shared Jimin's heart-shaped lips and delicate, long lashes. Yoona's daughter played alongside them, her resemblance to Seonghwa so uncanny it nearly took Jimin aback. The little girl, however, had inherited her mother's fiery spirit and sharp tongue. She was every bit as sassy and opinionated as Yoona, even though her physical features mirrored her father's. The sight of the three children laughing and tumbling around together felt oddly cathartic, a surreal and heartwarming reflection of how much had changed over the years.

"I think the water sounds will be better," Jimin said, handing Yoona the black coffee he had picked up from one of Seokjin's cafes. The café chain Epiphany had taken over Seoul's coffee scene. After Seokjin introduced raspberry cinnamon rolls to the menu, it quickly became Jimin's new favorite, knocking Golden Duck from its long-held spot at the top.

"That's what I was thinking, too," Yoona agreed, taking the cup with a grateful nod. "Unless you're planning on distracting everyone from the paint splatter in your third collection piece."

Jimin rolled his eyes with a smirk. "That was intentional, Yoona-ya," he teased.

Yoona snorted, a smile tugging at her lips as she sipped her coffee. "You know, I think this is the venue we used for our third showcase at MMCA. Do you remember that one? What was it called? Still Life?"

Jimin blinked, scanning the space again. "Wait. Wow, you're right." His smile widened into something extraordinarily sweet. "That was the first time I realized I had a crush on Jungkook."

Yoona's eyes widened in mock horror. "Gross," she said, making Jimin laugh. He could practically hear her shudder. She rubbed her forehead. "I remember being so nervous that whole time."

Jimin raised an eyebrow. "You? Nervous? Yoona, you chewed me out for my piece. I don't think 'nervous' was even in your vocabulary back then."

"Yeah," Yoona said, a sheepish grin forming. "I was a bit of a bitch back then, wasn't I?

Jimin grinned. "Honestly? I lived for it. We really ran the drama in our cohort. Everyone should've personally thanked us for keeping them entertained."

Yoona took another sip of her coffee. "No, I was definitely the crazier one between us. Do you remember when I tried to set you up with Seonghwa?"

Jimin's jaw dropped. "Holy shit. Yeah, I do. You tried to get me to sleep with him, not go out on a date."

Yoona shrugged nonchalantly. "Crazy how I ended up mated to him."

Jimin's smile spread slowly. "Oh, I don't find that crazy at all. The only person who could match our level of drama and pettiness was Seonghwa. Do you remember that fight he had with Seohyun? I think it was after one of the fellow wine nights—they were an actual soap opera. I can't imagine you with anyone else."

Yoona snorted. "I'm choosing to take that as a compliment, Jimin-ah." Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "But I remember that. That was after we talked about fashion for like three hours. We stayed on the couch together to watch them go at it."

"All we needed was some popcorn," Jimin said.

"Look, it was our day off from being the ones yelling," Yoona said before a blush crept up her cheeks. "You have no idea how obsessed I was with him back then. Sometimes, it still feels surreal that we ended up together."

Jimin laughed, shaking his head fondly at her. "I can't relate to the obsession part, but sometimes, when I think about how I ended up with Jungkook, I feel the same way. Surreal." He shrugged, and Yoona met his smile, a quiet understanding passing between them.

She pulled out a directory for Jimin's collection, and the two quickly shifted gears, diving back into the professional work at hand. Jimin glanced around the room again, his daughters running around in the background, and for a moment, a memory of that third showcase washed over him.

He smiled fondly before getting to work.

* * *

"Jimin, this is beautiful," Mrs. Jeon said, her eyes filled with appreciation as she stood in front of a medium-sized painting at Jimin's exhibition. It was his third solo show since completing his apprenticeship six years ago. Inspired by the black swan fairytale, the piece was part of ten paintings showcasing the bird's transformation. The series began with an abstract scatter of black color and gradually became more uniform by the end, but it could just as easily be read the opposite way.

The ten pieces were displayed in a U-shape, with no clear indication of the intended starting point, leaving the audience questioning which direction represented corruption and which symbolized purity. For Jimin, the white swan was the darker, more nuanced choice, but he hadn't sought to feed his audience a definitive answer. Instead, he wanted his viewers to find their own interpretations and reflect on the world's social complexities through their own lenses.

Jimin smiled warmly, leaning in to kiss Mrs. Jeon on the cheek. Mr. Jeon waved from her side, a small champagne glass in hand, while his other one was occupied with holding a pup. Jimin chuckled at the sight and smiled fondly at his daughter, who was watching the art show with curious eyes. Nearby, Jiweon, who had become an incredibly close friend to Jimin, was holding the second twin in her arms. She tossed Jimin a playful wink. Her mate, Yeora, a beta covered in tattoos, stood behind her, gently scratching her lower back in a teasing way.

Kim Taehyung and Jung Hoseok rounded the corner, pulling Jimin into a warm, enthusiastic hug. It wasn't long before Namjoon and Seokjin arrived, flowers in hand, followed by Yoongi, who quickly gave his usual grin. The group flurried around him, praising his art, with Seokjin and Namjoon's pups darting between their legs.

The scene felt like a beautiful blend of family, friendship, and love. All that was missing was his mate.

Jimin felt, before saw, his mate walked inside the art exhibition. The air seemed to change—sweeter, more familiar—and his heart found its anchor.

Jungkook stood in the doorway, a vision in black slacks and a grey suit jacket, the black button-up beneath it a simple, perfect complement to his striking presence. He must have run over directly from the network building. But it wasn't the clothes or the setting that made Jimin's heart flutter—it was the massive smile on Jungkook's face, lighting up the room as their eyes met.

More than half a decade together, and the excitement in Jungkook's eyes never wavered. It was still as consuming as the first time they'd met, now seasoned with a depth of love and belonging that made Jimin's chest ache.

"You look beautiful," Jungkook murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Jimin's cheek.

Jimin blushed. "That adjective seems popular today," he teased, a smile tugging at his lips.

Jungkook grinned, his eyes sparkling with affection as he leaned in to kiss Jimin softly on his shoulder, right above the mating mark. The tender gesture made Jimin's heart skip, a wave of warmth and love flooding him. He blushed even more, feeling both cherished and possessively adored. He rolled his eyes, trying to hide the smile threatening to overtake his face.

Just then, their daughters spotted Jungkook and ran toward him, delight filling their eyes as they jumped into his arms. The sight made Jimin laugh, a warm, affectionate sound filling the air. He picked up one of the twins, cradling her in his arms, while Jungkook held the other.

The family stood in front of the largest canvas in the collection, propped up in the center of the U-shaped display. It was a piece Jimin had included in every one of his collections—a mural of Jungkook.

This particular one was split stylistically down Jungkook's face. One half was abstract, swirling with dark, expansive spaces, while the other half was structured with intricate linework, leaving gaps for the white of the canvas to breathe. The contrast spoke to the complexity of the collection, but Jimin enjoyed it simply because he never grew tired of painting Jungkook. With every brushstroke, it felt like his love for Jungkook was immortalized on the canvas.

Jungkook's hand settled on Jimin's waist, just as it always did, and a radiant, unstoppable smile spread across Jimin's lips. He leaned into his husband's embrace, the two standing in the exact spot where Jimin displayed his first ever portrait of Jungkook.

They locked eyes, the weight of their shared memories, of their love story, flickering between them, before they exchanged a sweet, loving kiss.