THE WEDDING

“How do I look?” Seokjin asked, barely containing his excitement. He was standing in front of a full-length mirror with a bright, hopeful gaze.

Yoongi stood behind him, almost blinded and put into a dilemma by how good his friend looked today. It was his big day, of course, but could anybody deny Seokjin? He was born with striking genetics. Even in his faded, well-worn pink pajamas, he looked gorgeous. Like a timeless movie star.

Yoongi wanted to say he was the most handsome man in the fucking universe, but he settled for something less incriminating. “Like a five-star waiter.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “You could’ve complimented me for once, Yoongi. You’re my best man—just be nice to me today.”

Yoongi scoffed. “Why? It’s not like you’re legally registering your marriage anyway.” He broke eye contact with Seokjin through the mirror, avoiding the no-bullshit-Sherlock look Seokjin was clearly aiming at him.

“Thanks-fucking-much for the reminder, pal. Almost forgot about that,” Seokjin deadpanned. A flicker of light chilled in his eyes. Society may have been growing more accepting of homosexuality, but the government still refused to recognize the community.

A pang of guilt settled in Yoongi’s chest. He was mean when he wanted to be—which was all the time, if frankly speaking—but when it came to Seokjin, he was less of a tiger and more of a grumpy orange cat, pretending to be offended by affection when, in truth, he craved it.

With a sigh, he grasped Seokjin’s elbow, turning him so they stood face to face. The room felt light, delicate as a feather drifting from a mother bird’s wing. Silence settled over them, oddly comforting. Yoongi reached up, his hands levitating toward Seokjin’s neck as he gently straightened the slightly crooked bowtie there.

A warm pink flush crept up Yoongi’s cheeks, no doubt from the wine he’d been drinking since morning, but also from the words he was about to vomit. His upper lip twitched—a telltale sign. Seokjin waited, giving him space to say whatever was on his mind before he lost the nerve.

“You look amazing, Kim. You know that.” And there it was.

The compliment might have been meant to slip by unnoticed, but Seokjin had big, bright ears—he could sniff ‘Seokjin’ and ‘amazing’ in the air from a mile away.

Seokjin broke into his signature, handsome grin, stealing the breath right out of Yoongi’s lungs. Yoongi coughed awkwardly, tearing his gaze away when he caught the arrogant smirk creeping up Seokjin’s lips.

“Say it again,” Seokjin chirped.

“Nope, never. You heard me the first time,” Yoongi said flatly.

“Oh, come on, Yoongs! It’s been a while since you called me Kim!” Seokjin said, chuckling. He stepped forward, arms spread wide in an invitation for a hug.

Yoongi instinctively took several steps back, shaking his head. “No, don’t even think about it, Seokjin. You want to die on your wedding day? And what’s with that stupid nickname again? You know I hate it.”

Seokjin’s hands shot toward his cheeks. Yoongi swatted them away just in time.

“Are you crazy?” Yoongi grumbled as Seokjin made grabby hands at him, his voice looping like a broken stereo, “Yoongs, Yoongs, Yoongs, Yoongs.”

And just like that, Seokjin was escorted to his wedding, Yoongi’s firm grip on his hand guiding him out of the getting-ready room as Seokjin giggled at his friend’s reaction. A bouquet was shoved into his hands as he walked, excitement coursing through his veins and spreading through his body—until his steps slowed and then halted completely just before the entrance to the grand hall.

Seokjin took a deep breath. “Hello, Dad,” he said, bowing politely toward his father-in-law. He stole a glance at Namjoon, and his heart skipped a beat.

Damn, Namjoon looked ethereal in his black suit, a white silk shirt tucked beneath it. The top three buttons were undone, offering a tantalizing glimpse of his broad chest, sculpted from countless hours at the gym. The hard work had paid off, and Seokjin was tempted to reach out and trace the firmness of his pecs with just the tip of his fingers. He held himself back, though, promising to indulge later.

“Hello, Seokjin,” said Nam Su, Namjoon’s father, smiling brightly at him. “Are you ready to take my son’s hand?”

“Yes, sir,” Seokjin replied, straightening up.

He didn’t notice it—the way Yoongi’s hand deliberately slipped from his as Seokjin extended his hand to take Namjoon’s arm. He was completely lost in Namjoon’s gaze, love shining in his eyes and smile as crescent dimples deepened in his cheeks. They were pulled into their own little world, crafted solely for them to admire each other without verbal announcements. Confessions were spoken, I love yous exchanged—all while they gazed at each other in quiet admiration.

“Hi, Adonis,” Namjoon exhaled heavily. Breathing became a challenge whenever Seokjin looked up at him with those bright, lovely eyes.

Seokjin giggled. “Hi there, my cheesy love of my life.”

“Are you ready to handle my cheesiness for the rest of your life?”

“Ah, I’m not so sure about that, but it seems like I don’t have the option to back out now, do I?”

“No, you don’t.” Namjoon shook his head cutely.

“No? Guess I’ll just have to find out on my own.” Seokjin let out a dramatic sigh, earning a chuckle from Namjoon. If it weren’t for the wedding—and his father standing right behind him—he would’ve kissed Seokjin right then and there. Alas, he’d have to prolong his indulgence until the ceremony was over and he was alone with Seokjin. He had waited long enough for this moment. Waiting a little longer couldn’t hurt him any more.

Together, they ascended the stairs to the stage set for their grand entrance. Soft piano music played over the quiet murmurs of the carefully chosen guests—those whom Seokjin and Namjoon trusted to celebrate their union with warmth and acceptance. These were the people who truly appreciated their love, unlike the last time, when unwelcome voices had threatened to turn their joy into chaos. Seokjin had been wary about holding the wedding in their homeland. It would have been easier; perhaps even more fulfilling to marry in a foreign country, where their union would be legally recognized. But Namjoon had refused.

He dreamed of a wedding that bound their souls through love, not just ink on paper. That sentiment stayed with Seokjin, and he agreed without hesitation.

The music shifted to the wedding march as the grooms arrived, applause erupting through the hall as the crowd cheered. They walked down to the altar, wide smiles stretched across their faces; except for Seokjin, whose smile was tinged with shyness as he met the officiant’s gaze. It was his father, after all.

He had never imagined his father in this role. It felt almost surreal, considering that this was the same man who had once sent him to a psychiatric ward, believing something was wrong with him simply because he was attracted to the same sex. But time had changed things. When his father realized the gravity of his mistake, officiating Seokjin’s wedding became more than just a duty—it was an act of redemption, a way to mend the damage he had once done as a father.

Love, appreciation, and warmth radiated from Seokjin’s father. His proud grin only grew brighter as he cleared his throat, drawing the guests’ attention.

“Marriage has always been a way to seal the bond between two devoted souls—a promise to love each other with everything they have. To stand together in their darkest moments and to celebrate every joy. Today, my son Seokjin and Namjoon will make that promise to one another.”

A pause. A deep breath. An affection that constricted his father’s chest.

“As a father, my greatest wish is fulfilled today. My dear son has found the love he has been searching for. Someone who was made from the same stardust as him, someone who loves him not despite his flaws, but because of them. Standing here today, I am not just an officiant, but a father overflowing with pride, witnessing my son give his whole heart to Namjoon, without fear. He is ready to love freely, and we are all here as witnesses to that love. With that, I ask them to share their vows.”

Seokjin was already on the brink of tears as he listened to his father, but he steadied himself for what was coming next. He knew Namjoon was about to pour his heart out. The way he took Seokjin’s hands in his and gently brushed a thumb along his skin made that clear. Their eyes locked, and Namjoon smiled. Not just with his lips, but with his eyes.

“Kim Seokjin, before I met you, I never believed I could love someone this deeply. The fire you ignite in me is inextinguishable. I am my best self when I’m with you. The joy you bring me at the end of each day is unmatched. You are my awakening. My beautiful, untold truth. And my treasure. Walking this earth by your side is the greatest blessing. Today, I vow to spend my days with you, to remind you how grateful I am to have you in my life. With every single moment, I will show you how much my heart beats for you. I vow to love you, not just in youth but in every stage of life—to cherish your wrinkles as much as your soul. I love you. I love you, Seokjin, with every fiber of my being. I will love you until the sun sets for the last time I’ll ever see. I just love you so much.”

Seokjin sniffled and squeezed Namjoon’s hand tightly. It was his turn to return the gesture.

“Kim Namjoon,” Seokjin began, “you idiot.” He chuckled softly. “I knew you were too good for me the moment you walked into my life. You’re a dangerous man with your dangerously sweet words. And, of course, those dimples of yours show no mercy.”

He laughed breezily when said dimples peeked out.

“You act like you’ve got it all figured out, like you’re so mature. But I’ve seen you at your lowest, fighting through it all. I want to tell you it’s okay. It’s okay to feel lost. It’s okay to lean on others when the weight gets too heavy. You’ve always been my anchor, and I want to be the same for you. I vow to love you for who you are. Whether you’re Kim Namjoon or the man in his thirties still finding his way, I love you just the same. You are enough for me, more than you could ever imagine. And I will spend this lifetime, and every other one I am lucky enough to share with you, reminding you of that. I love you too, baby.”

The sting Yoongi felt behind his eyes burned brighter than the burst of the exploding balloon over Seokjin and Namjoon. A cascade of confetti and white flower petals rained down on them as the officiant finally spoke the words, and they sealed it with a kiss. It happened. Finally, Seokjin was where he rightfully belonged. He had secured a future where he could live a happy life, one without the constant worry of his or his husband’s safety.

If Yoongi had wanted, he could have been the one standing in Namjoon’s place today. But he could never bring himself to say the words. Every time he returned home to Seokjin after an operation or a hit, the look in Seokjin’s eyes said it all—horror, disapproval, and an unspoken truth: what Yoongi did was inhumane, something beyond Seokjin’s understanding.

His morals were simply too high for a world that was nothing short of hell. He didn’t belong there. So Yoongi buried the excruciating weight of love in his chest. But today, of all days, the weight felt unbearable.

Did the embers of first love still burn after all these years? And was it supposed to hurt this much?

Yoongi was a bit naïve when it came to love to answer that question. But for someone who had observed love up close, it was entirely conceivable. A gentle rub of Nam Su’s hand on Yoongi’s shoulder told him that he understood. After all, Nam Su had watched him grow up before his very eyes.

“It’s okay to let go, Yoongi. Let it out. Don’t hold back,” he said gently.

Yoongi swallowed cautiously, his Adam’s apple bobbing with visible effort. He sniffed the air, the overpowering scent of flowers itching his nostrils as a tear finally rolled down his cheek.

“I’m happy for him,” Yoongi said, his voice thick with emotion.

Nam Su nodded slowly. “I know.”

“And for your son too.”

“I know that too.”

As another tear trailed down Yoongi’s face and his breath caught in his throat, making it hard to breathe, Nam Su wordlessly pulled him into a hug. After his father’s death, Nam Su became the closest thing Yoongi had to a fatherly figure, having been his father’s right-hand man. He had always been loyal to his family, and he proved it when his father was cast out of his own empire by his treacherous second wife. Nam Su was there when Ga-eul forcibly had Yoongi committed to a psychiatric hospital, carefully observing her every move—until Yoongi escaped and reclaimed what was rightfully his.

“Walk away from the mafia life, Yoongi. Start over. It’s never too late. I promise you won’t regret it,” Nam Su urged after Yoongi steadied himself.

“You know it’s not that easy,” Yoongi said, quickly wiping away the evidence of his tear-streaked cheeks, as if erasing his moment of vulnerability.

“But it’s worth it,” Nam Su replied, nodding toward his son and son-in-law, who were now cutting the wedding cake. “Look where it got me.”

“You only got lucky because you worked under someone like me. Don’t forget that.”

Nam Su let out a laugh, clapping Yoongi on the back. “You see? That’s exactly it. You’re not like everyone else in the underworld, and that makes all the difference.”

“You’re worth more than you know, Yoongi. You deserve a life better than this,” Seokjin had told him once.

The words had never resonated with Yoongi more than they did today. Their echoes traveled through his ears, sinking into the center of his mind and clouding his judgment like bad weather. A headache throbbed at his temples, likely from the meltdown he’d had moments ago, but Yoongi chose to blame it on today’s event. It had been one hell of a long day. And God, he needed a strong drink to clear his system.

The thought of starting anew was tempting; Yoongi could easily fantasize about it. Imagining a decent life with a lover by his side was strangely soothing. But he knew better than to find solace in such thoughts because he knew the kind of person he was. With an upbringing like his and a personality as deranged as his, it brought more pain than contentment. The supposed lover would find themselves leaving him within a year, and Yoongi had no doubts. The last person who romantically engaged with him could attest to that if they weren’t already dead and buried six feet under.

Putting a halt to the chaos in his head, Yoongi took a deep breath. With a sigh, he acknowledged Nam Su with a slight tilt of his chin. “I need a drink,” he said before walking away.

There was another person at the venue, like Yoongi, who drowned their endless chain of thoughts and varying emotions in a similar fashion. It was the third, or maybe fourth, cider cocktail Jungkook had since arriving at the wedding. Perhaps he didn’t even know anymore. He was pretty sure he’d lost count as he aimed to bore literal holes into Aera’s head, staring shamelessly at her. She looked gorgeous every time Jungkook saw her, but today she looked exceptional. The plum cowl-neck satin dress clung to her curves snugly, the thin straps barely staying on her shoulders as she laughed and cried along with the newly wedded couple.

He had noticed them slipping off a couple of times and was sorely tempted to cross the hall, weave through her group of friends, and slide the straps back into place before wrapping her in his suit jacket. But such a sudden act of chivalry would make him stand out too much. Approaching a woman from his office outside of work was unlike him, especially for a gesture that would raise eyebrows and spark whispers of suspicion. So he gulped the thought with another glass of cider.

Jungkook had to admit it—pretending to ignore Aera was getting harder with each passing day. He had undermined her, believing he was doing a perfect job of letting her down and shattering her hopes by giving her the cold shoulder and keeping his distance. But that was a long time ago. The Aera standing before him now seemed indifferent. Especially toward him. As if he had ceased to exist in her world entirely.

The sentiment should have brought him relief, yet instead, it left him squirming in his seat with agitation.

What happened to her? Why didn’t she react to him the way she used to? How had she gone from sneaking glances his way to barely acknowledging his presence at all? Did she even realize how her indifference cut into Jungkook like an invisible knife?

Jungkook inhaled sharply as he watched Taehyung fix Aera’s straps again. They had slipped off her shoulders for the third time that night. He observed her closely, his heart clenching with a wistful desire to be the one she leaned into, the one she kissed on the cheek in gratitude.

Taehyung’s boxy grin lit up as he playfully flipped the “thank you” Aera mouthed to him. He made a comment that prompted a burst of laughter from the residents at the table—Jihee, Mark, and Aera—all splitting into joyous expressions, genuinely enjoying the night. Unlike Jungkook.

“What’s with that dead look on your face, Jungkook? Are you here to celebrate or mourn your brother’s wedding?” Yoongi mocked, sliding into the empty chair across from him. He eyed Jungkook, whose lips were set in a permanent frown, eyebrows drawn together in frustration.

The frown on Jungkook’s lips only deepened, contradicting his words as he said, “It’s nothing,” his voice a dull, uninterested baritone.

Yoongi nodded. “Very believable of you.”

Jungkook shot him a look, but Yoongi was a step ahead. He met Jungkook’s gaze with his own unyielding one, quirking a brow until Jungkook looked away.

A waiter replaced the empty cup on the table with two fresh drinks and asked if they’d like to eat. Theirs was the only table left bare, unlike the others at the wedding, where food had already been served. They both declined. Alcohol was, apparently, a prime requirement for intimidating men with twisted love lives. The need to drown the heart in inebriation outweighed the need to fill an empty stomach on days like this.

Once again, they were bound by the ache in their hearts, unaware of just how acutely similar they truly were.

“Cheer up, Jungkook. Seokjin might get the wrong idea that something’s up with you. It might ruin the news he wants to share,” Yoongi said when Jungkook’s silence became palpable. He didn’t know he was like an open book, easy to read.

“What news?” Jungkook asked.

“Ask Seokjin that,” Yoongi replied, lifting his drink to his lips. “And don’t let him know you heard this from me.”

Jungkook sighed but agreed without protest. Getting a mute to speak was easier than making Yoongi finish an unfinished thought. He downed his fifth glass of cider and picked up the thread of his thoughts, his eyes drifting back to the source of both his happiness and misery. It was easy to spot the table where she had been sitting, but sadly, it felt empty without her.

Taehyung remained perfectly poised in his seat, savoring the rich flavor of Galbi, which paired divinely with a flute of fermented rice wine. Jihee and Mike stood next in line to congratulate the newlyweds, eagerly waiting their turn to offer Seokjin and Namjoon their heartfelt congratulations. Yet, there was no sign of the long-haired woman, draped in elegance like a goddess among mortals.

Jungkook’s brows knitted in concentration as he searched for Aera, his gaze bouncing from one person to another across the grand hall. His eyes lingered for a split second before landing on a woman with a physique identical to Aera’s, only to realize she was one of Seokjin’s cousins. Jungkook clicked his tongue in annoyance. He scanned the entire place until he spotted a face he was certain hadn’t been invited to the wedding.

After Jungkook crippled Yeong’s ability to speak, every trace of him and his legitimate business with Kim Enterprises was erased. To compensate for the damage, Seokjin had been forced to transfer a portion of his stocks to Yeong before formally dissolving their partnership and signing an NDA to keep the incident under wraps.

This raised the question: Why was Min Sung, Yeong’s son, at Seokjin’s wedding?

The longer Jungkook racked his brain for an answer, the more baffled he became. Any thought of Aera faded, replaced instead by suspicion as he watched Min Sung linger near Seokjin, his presence stirring an unshakable sense of unease.

To make sure he wasn’t jumping to conclusions, Jungkook turned to Yoongi and asked, “Was anyone from Yeong Taejin’s family invited today?”

Yoongi’s confused expression answered before he could even say, “No, I don’t think so.”

That was all the excuse Jungkook needed to rise from his seat and stride toward Min Sung, determined to get some answers.

On the other end of the hall, Min Sung patiently waited for a chance to be alone with Seokjin. He needed to ask what had happened to his father that was so terrible he refused to speak of it, even to his own son.

From the various rumors and gossip he had heard, Min Sung gathered that his father had caused an embarrassing scene at a birthday party for one of their most trusted businessmen—not to mention the most influential figure in the country at the moment. He was embarrassed by his father’s narrow-minded comments and had come simply to apologize on his behalf. Most importantly, he needed to find out how his father had ended up with a pierced tongue.

For this, Min Sung had discreetly snuck into the wedding. Kim Seokjin was a powerful figure, and arranging a meeting with him was as difficult as securing a meeting with the president. For over a month, he had gone back and forth with Seokjin’s secretary, trying to arrange a meeting but failed each time. Now, he was here, nerves frayed at the thought of someone seeing through his ruse and throwing him out.

Alas, his fear materialized when he spotted Jungkook striding toward him, his posture stiff and his expression dark with irritation.

Panic surged through Min Sung, and without a second thought, he bolted toward the nearest exit. Unlike his father, he had no intention of causing a scene at Seokjin’s wedding. But who was he kidding? No human was born with the power to outrun fate. Simply by attending the wedding, Min Sung had unknowingly become the perfect catalyst, forcing Jungkook to confront his own demons.

As Min Sung tried to flee, Jungkook caught him by the neck, dragged him into the hallway, and drove a punch just beneath his eye before demanding any answers. The impact set fate into motion and exposed his own bluff to Aera, who had just stepped out from behind the spare room door, wide-eyed and frozen in shock.