Chapter Text
There were beautiful people, and then there was Park Jimin.
The first kind of beauty belonged in photographs, in carefully angled lighting, in edited magazine covers and filtered screens.
Jimin’s beauty was the second kind.
The dangerous kind.
The kind that moved.
The kind that laughed too loudly in quiet rooms. The kind that smiled at strangers and made them forget what sentence they had been saying. The kind that walked into a room and altered its temperature by several degrees.
He had eyes that were impossible to describe correctly.
Some days they were warm amber, honey caught in sunlight. Other days, they were sharp and hypnotic, the eyes of a siren who knew exactly what drowning looked like. And sometimes, when he was sleepy or emotional or laughing too hard, they turned soft and round and wide, all doe-eyed sweetness that made people weak in the knees.
His jawline was elegant enough to cut glass.
His cheeks were still plush enough to ruin the effect.
Freckles dusted over the bridge of his nose and across his cheeks like a constellation someone had spilled by hand. A mole near his lip. Another at his collarbone. Several more scattered across skin only a privileged few had ever seen.
His hair, platinum blonde and soft, brushed his shoulders in expensive waves. Sometimes styled into polished glamour for campaigns. Sometimes tied carelessly with a ribbon. Sometimes messy in ways stylists spent hours trying to recreate.
His body inspired essays online.
Lean, narrow-waisted, toned with dancer muscle and elegant strength. Curved in places that made designers obsessed. Strong in places that surprised them. Masculine and feminine in equal measure, as if both had met and agreed to share one masterpiece.
Jimin wore everything.
Silk gowns with open backs.
Tailored suits with nothing underneath.
Mini skirts, leather pants, oversized sweaters slipping off one shoulder, corseted tops, pearl chains, boots, diamonds, lace, denim, chiffon.
He never dressed for permission.
He dressed because beauty deserved movement.
And the world loved him for it.
No.
The world was hungry for him.
Every week, there was a new headline.
WHO IS JIMIN DATING NOW?
PARK JIMIN SEEN LEAVING PRIVATE DINNER WITH HOLLYWOOD STAR
THE MODEL WHO REDEFINED BEAUTY
WHY EVERYONE IS OBSESSED WITH JIMIN
The answer was simple.
Because everyone wanted what they could not have.
And Park Jimin belonged to Kim Taehyung.
Taehyung was not the sort of man tabloids understood.
He was not loud.
He was not scandalous.
He did not throw parties on yachts or leak texts or date publicly for relevance.
He was the CEO of Vantae, one of the fastest-growing luxury design conglomerates in the world. Fashion, interiors, hotels, fragrance, art investments. If it was elegant and expensive, Taehyung probably had a hand in it.
He was old money wrapped in modern taste.
Tall, broad-shouldered, composed.
A face so handsome people distrusted it on instinct.
Dark eyes. Deep voice. Perfect posture. Impossibly calm manners.
He spoke softly. Never repeated himself. Remembered everyone’s names. Opened doors. Sent thank-you gifts. Called his mother every Sunday.
The internet called him husband material.
People who knew him called him terrifyingly competent.
Jimin called him baby.
And somehow that was the most shocking thing of all.
Tonight, the world was seeing them again.
Paris Fashion Week.
The Vantae Winter Gala.
A hundred cameras lined the black carpet outside the Palais de Verre.
Editors, celebrities, billionaires, actors, royals, influencers, designers, heirs, and people who had no business being there but somehow were.
Inside a black town car, Jimin was pouting dramatically.
“I hate this collar.”
Taehyung looked up from his phone. “You loved this collar twenty minutes ago.”
“I was younger then.”
“You are twenty-nine.”
“I’ve changed.”
Taehyung reached over and adjusted the pearl-lined collar of Jimin’s ivory silk blouse with maddening patience.
“There,” he said.
Jimin narrowed his eyes. “You’re biased.”
“I am.”
“You think I look good in everything.”
Taehyung’s expression remained neutral. “Not everything.”
Jimin gasped. “Name one.”
“The fluorescent green mesh tank top from Milan.”
“That was fashion.”
“That was a cry for help.”
Jimin slapped his arm and burst into laughter.
The driver’s shoulders shook once, trying not to laugh too.
Jimin turned to the privacy glass. “Did you hear that? He humiliates me in front of staff.”
“You humiliate yourself for free,” said Taehyung.
“I’m leaving you.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“I meant it yesterday.”
“You also asked me to zip your boots five minutes later.”
Jimin crossed his arms. “Love is complicated.”
Taehyung’s mouth twitched.
For most people, that tiny, almost-smile would have gone unnoticed.
Jimin caught it instantly.
“There it is,” he said, pointing. “The smile.”
“There is no smile.”
“There was.”
“No evidence.”
“I have witnesses.”
“You have delusions.”
Jimin leaned forward and kissed the corner of Taehyung’s mouth before the man could dodge.
The driver definitely laughed that time.
Taehyung sighed. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” Jimin said smugly, “cherished.”
Taehyung looked at him for a long second.
Then quietly said, “Very.”
Jimin’s smugness evaporated on impact.
“…you can’t say things like that right before cameras.”
“Why?”
“I get emotional.”
“You cry at shampoo commercials.”
“They’re moving.”
Outside, flashbulbs exploded like stars.
The car door opened.
Taehyung stepped out first.
Black suit. No tie. Straight broad shoulders. The sort of elegance that made people stand straighter by reflex.
Then he turned and held out a hand.
Jimin placed delicate fingers into his palm and emerged like the final scene of a film.
Gasps rolled through the barricades.
Ivory silk blouse tucked into a high-waisted black velvet skirt split elegantly to mid-thigh. Layered pearls. Heeled boots. Diamond earrings. Blonde hair in soft waves. Skin luminous under the lights.
He looked expensive.
He looked untouchable.
He looked delighted by the chaos.
“JIMIN!”
“OVER HERE!”
“TAEHYUNG!”
“LOOK THIS WAY!”
They paused.
Turned.
Smiled.
Taehyung’s hand remained firm at Jimin’s waist.
Possessive enough to be noticed.
Respectful enough to be envied.
Jimin leaned subtly into him.
Intimate enough to start a thousand articles.
They moved up the carpet.
A reporter shouted, “Jimin! Who are you wearing?”
Jimin answered without missing a beat.
“My boyfriend’s budget.”
Laughter erupted.
Another yelled, “Taehyung! How do you feel being the most envied man alive?”
Taehyung glanced sideways at Jimin.
“Tired,” he said dryly.
Even the photographers laughed.
Jimin cackled loud enough to echo.
Inside, once the doors closed behind them and the sound softened, Jimin exhaled.
“My cheeks hurt.”
“You grin too hard for strangers.”
“I’m charming.”
“You’re feral.”
“Same family.”
Taehyung removed Jimin’s coat and handed it to the staff before smoothing invisible lint from his shoulder.
The gesture was automatic.
Gentle.
Practiced.
Jimin watched him quietly.
“What?” Taehyung asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring.”
“You’re handsome.”
“That sounds suspicious.”
“It is.” Jimin stepped closer. “Come here.”
“We just got here.”
“Exactly. Private moment before social warfare.”
Taehyung let himself be tugged half a step forward.
Jimin fixed the collar of Taehyung’s shirt, though it needed no fixing.
Then he softened.
Very quietly, only for him, he said, “Thank you for always making these nights easier.”
Taehyung’s eyes changed.
Less polished.
Warmer.
“You make everything easier,” he replied.
Jimin blinked rapidly. “Again. Emotional sabotage.”
“You’ll survive.”
“I won’t.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“I’m delicate.”
“You bit me last week.”
“That was passion.”
“That was because I stole one fry.”
“Same thing.”
Taehyung finally laughed, low and real.
And across the room, three socialites nearly fainted hearing it.
Neither of them noticed the woman watching from the staircase.
Sharp suit.
Dark red lips.
Eyes narrowed with interest.
Kang Seulgi, editor-in-chief of Monarch magazine.
She turned to her assistant.
“I want the feature.”
“On Vantae?”
She smiled slowly.
“No.”
Her gaze followed the couple as Jimin stole champagne from Taehyung’s glass and Taehyung let him.
“On what happens when the world’s most desired man is already loved.”