Chapter Text
As they step out of the restaurant, Jimin stretches his arms above his head, sighing in satisfaction. The day had been perfect—better than he expected. Maybe it wouldn’t have been as enjoyable if it were with anyone other than Yoongi.
He turns around to see Yoongi shining brightly even under the dim lights.
He really is a main character in Jimin's life.
“That was amazing. I feel like I could sleep for a week,” Jimin murmurs.
Yoongi checks his watch, lips quirking up slightly. “Not yet. The night’s still young.”
Jimin eyes him suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
Instead of answering, Yoongi flags down a cab, opening the door for Jimin. “You’ll see.”
Jimin narrows his eyes but slides into the seat.
As the car moves through the streets of Paris, he watches Yoongi’s expression—calm, unreadable, but there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
Fifteen minutes later, they arrive in front of a club. The heavy bass vibrates from inside, neon lights flashing against the dark exterior. Jimin’s brows shoot up.
“A club? You, of all people, want to go clubbing?” he asks, incredulous. Clubs are practically Jimin’s second home—he lives and breathes the vibrant energy of the nightlife. But Yoongi? He rarely steps foot in one.
Yoongi smirks, stepping out of the cab. “Come on.”
The bouncer immediately recognizes Yoongi and lets them in without question, which makes Jimin raise an eyebrow in suspicion. As soon as they enter, the pulsing music washes over them, vibrating through Jimin’s chest. But something feels off. The place is completely empty.
Jimin frowns, glancing around. The dim lighting casts a soft glow, neon hues blending into deep blues, making the space feel almost surreal.
“I don’t think this place is any good,” Jimin mutters, side-eyeing Yoongi.
“Which club is empty at this hour? You should’ve done some research.”
Yoongi doesn’t respond. Instead, he steps toward the center of the room.
Then, suddenly, the lights cut out. The music stops.
Jimin’s stomach flips. “Hyung—what—?”
Before he can finish, the lights flash back on, and this time, they aren’t the only ones present there.
“SURPRISE!”
A chorus of voices erupts around them. Jimin startles, eyes darting to the familiar faces grinning at him.
For a moment, he’s speechless. He scans the room, recognizing each and every one of them—Ava, Emily, Lucas, Ethan, and Sungjae. His closest friends, standing right in front of him, all smiling widely.
Jimin’s mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. His gaze flickers to Yoongi, who stands beside him with his arms crossed, a small smile on his lips.
“You—” Jimin turns back to his friends, eyes wide. “You guys are here? In Paris?!”
“Of course, dummy!” Ava laughs, stepping forward to pull him into a tight hug.
“It’s been too long. We couldn’t miss a chance to see you.”
Emily grins. “And it’s all thanks to your fiancé.” she says, turning to Yoongi.
Jimin whirls around to Yoongi, eyes glistening under the neon lights.
“You planned this?”
Yoongi shrugs, feigning nonchalance.
“It’s no big deal.”
But it is a big deal.
Jimin can feel warmth spreading through his chest, his fingers clenching slightly at his sides. He didn’t know what to expect from this trip, but this? Yoongi planning something so thoughtful, so personal—it shakes something deep inside him.
“Yeah, your fiancé really flew us all here just to make you happy,” Sungjae adds. “You got yourself a good one.”
Jimin's cheeks flush, the heat creeping up as they keep calling Yoongi his fiancé. Even though he’d been chasing after Yoongi for so long, hearing it out loud now makes everything feel so real—more than he ever imagined. His heart races, and for a moment, he just stands there, taking it all in, as a shy smile tugs at his lips.
“Though,” Lucas chimes in, crossing his arms, “I’m a little mad that we didn’t even know you were in a relationship for fifteen years.”
“Uh… it was an on-and-off thing,” Jimin mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. He doesn't want to go into too much detail. The truth feels a little too complicated to explain.
Emily grins mischievously. “Well, there’s one more surprise.”
Jimin’s curiosity piques—until a figure steps out from the shadows.
His heart stutters.
He freezes for a second, his brain struggling to catch up. Minhyun. Minhyun is here. After all these months of unanswered calls and fading hope, the friend he thought had disappeared from his life stands right in front of him.
“Hyun?” His voice comes out barely above a whisper, as if afraid that saying his name too loudly will make him vanish.
“Jimin hyung!”
Minhyun rushes forward, wrapping Jimin in a tight, crushing hug.
Jimin stands frozen for a moment before his arms come up, gripping Minhyun just as tightly. His throat tightens, overwhelmed.
“You—where the hell have you been?” he finally manages, voice cracking slightly.
“I called, I texted—I thought you just… vanished.”
“I know,” Minhyun says, pulling back just enough to look at him. His smile dims, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry, hyung. I should’ve reached out sooner.”
Jimin stares at him, taking in every detail—the slightly older features, the same warm eyes, but there’s something else there too. A shadow. A weight Jimin can’t quite place.
A throat clears behind them, and Jimin suddenly remembers they’re not alone.
“Okay, okay, I know this is emotional,” Ava teases, wrapping her arm around Minhyun's shoulder. "But are we gonna cry all night, or are we gonna celebrate?"
Emily grins. "Yeah, Jimin, your fiancé went all out for this. The least you can do is party a little."
Jimin turns to Yoongi, who’s been watching the reunion quietly, his expression unreadable. But there’s something about the way his eyes flicker between Jimin and Minhyun—calculating, observant.
"Yoongi you…" Jimin starts, unsure how to put his emotions into words. "You really did all of this?"
Yoongi shrugs, ever the picture of nonchalance.
Jimin's throat tightens, a mix of emotions swirling inside him. He doesn’t know what to say, so he simply smiles. “Let’s celebrate,” he says, turning back to his friends.
Cheers erupt around them, and just like that, the club bursts into life. The music returns, drinks are poured, and laughter fills the space.
The night picks up quickly, the heavy bass thrumming through the club as drinks flow freely. Jimin laughs as Ava drags him onto the dance floor, her hands waving wildly in the air. Emily and Sungjae join them, the group swaying to the music, their laughter mixing with the pulsing beat.
Jimin lets himself get lost in it—the flashing lights, the heat of the crowd, the way his body moves effortlessly with the rhythm. It feels good. Freeing. He hasn't done this in so long, and with his friends here, it’s like slipping back into an old, familiar joy.
Yoongi stays at the bar, watching. He nurses a glass of whiskey, swirling the amber liquid idly as his gaze follows Jimin across the room. He doesn't dance—of course, he doesn't. But when Jimin catches his eye from across the dance floor, there’s an almost amused glint in Yoongi’s gaze, like he’s entertained by the sight of Jimin in his element.
Minhyun, however, does dance. He moves closer to Jimin, the beat guiding his steps, his presence just within Jimin’s space but not too close.
The alcohol keeps coming, drinks passed between hands, liquid fire warming Jimin from the inside. His head feels light, a pleasant buzz settling into his limbs. When Yoongi finally joins them—still not dancing, but standing near enough to be a part of the moment—Jimin grins at him, tipsy and carefree.
"Are you ever going to dance, hyung?" Jimin teases, nudging him playfully.
Yoongi smirks, taking a slow sip of his drink. "I don’t dance."
"You can’t dance," Jimin corrects with a giggle, swaying a little.
Yoongi rolls his eyes. "I can. I just don’t want to."
Jimin pouts dramatically, but before he can argue further, Minhyun leans in, voice just loud enough over the music.
"He’s always like this, huh?" he says, eyes flickering to Yoongi with something unreadable in his expression.
Jimin tilts his head. "Yeah. He’s—" he pauses, then smiles a little, glancing at Yoongi. "He’s Yoongi."
Yoongi’s gaze sharpens slightly at that, but he doesn’t say anything, just takes another sip of his whiskey.
Minhyun hums, but there’s something lingering in his eyes. Something Jimin still doesn't quite understand.
And then, before the moment stretches too long, Ava grabs Jimin’s hands and twirls him under the neon lights, spinning him back into the energy of the night.
After dancing for what feels like forever, they all collapse onto the lounge area, breathless and laughing. Drinks keep coming, and soon enough, someone—probably Ethan, given his mischievous grin—suggests a game.
“Let’s play dares,” he announces, clapping his hands together. “We’re in Paris! No rules, just fun.”
Jimin raises a brow, already suspicious. “That sounds dangerous.” Then, after a beat, he smirks. “Count me in.”
Back in Canada, games like these were practically a ritual for their group—wild, reckless, and always pushing the limits. The dares were extreme but undeniably thrilling. Jimin can’t even remember how many people he had to hook up with because of them, but one thing’s for sure—he never backed down from a challenge.
The game begins lightheartedly—Lucas has to break dance in the middle of the floor, Minhyun downs a strong shot without flinching, Ava has to post an embarrassing story on her Insta, Emily has to text 'I still love you' to her ex and Ethan gets dared to flirt with the bartender (which he does a little too enthusiastically). But then, the attention shifts to Jimin.
Emily turns to Jimin. “I dare you to… get on top of the bar and dance. Give us a real show.”
Jimin throws his head back with a laugh. “That’s it? You guys are getting soft,” Jimin winks before strutting toward the bar. With effortless grace, he climbs on top, owning the space like a stage meant just for him.
The bartender doesn’t even blink—probably used to this kind of chaos. As the music shifts to a sultry beat, Jimin lets his body move, hips swaying, chest rolling, every motion smooth and controlled. This isn’t just dancing; it’s a performance. And for Jimin, dance and alcohol have always gone hand in hand.
The room erupts in cheers, whistles echoing through the club as Jimin moves effortlessly to the beat. His friends clap and holler, hyping him up even more. He throws his head back with a laugh, rolling his hips in a way that earns a particularly loud reaction from the crowd.
Yoongi, however, leans against the bar, watching with an unreadable expression. He swirls his drink, eyes never leaving Jimin, but he doesn’t react like the others. Jimin catches that look—calm, assessing, but undeniably focused on him. It sends a thrill up his spine.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough!” Sungjae finally calls out, barely containing his laughter.
“Before your fiancé falls in love with you all over again, get down from there.”
Jimin grins, giving one last dramatic pose before hopping off the bar. He lands smoothly, breathless but exhilarated.
Lucas claps him on the back. “Still got it, Park.”
Jimin smirks. “Obviously.”
The game continues, drinks flow, and the dares grow bolder.
Then Sungjae, clearly tipsy, turns to Yoongi with a grin that spells trouble. “Yoongi hyung, I dare you to kiss Jimin.”
Jimin stills, his fingers tightening around his glass. The group erupts into teasing laughter, cheering Yoongi on.
"Kiss him!" Ava giggles. "Come on, he's your fiancé.”
Jimin turns to look at Yoongi, trying to read his expression, but as always, Yoongi remains calm. He sets down his drink, leans in slightly, and for a split second, Jimin feels his breath hitch—anticipation curling in his stomach.
Then, instead of his lips, Yoongi presses a soft kiss to Jimin’s forehead.
The cheers turn into groans, complaints of “That doesn’t count!” and “Boring!” filling the air.
But Jimin—Jimin blinks, his face suddenly feeling too warm. His heart stutters for a reason he can’t quite explain.
Yoongi simply leans back, smirking at their reactions. “That’s all you’re getting.”
Jimin swallows. For some reason, the feeling of Yoongi’s lips on his forehead lingers longer than it should.
The group groans, but the game moves on. Jimin stays quiet, replaying the moment over and over. It was just a forehead kiss—innocent, almost dismissive—but why does it feel like something more?
He sneaks a glance at Yoongi, who sits back with his drink, completely unfazed. Jimin tells himself he’s imagining things. It’s the alcohol, the atmosphere, nothing else.
He exhales, trying to steady his racing heart. He should be relieved. It was just a forehead kiss. Nothing more.
So why does it feel like so much more?
As the night stretches into early morning, the group finally stumbles out of the club, the cold Paris air sobering them up slightly. The streets are quiet, the city still wrapped in its dawn haze. Jimin yawns, rubbing his arms as he stands with his friends outside.
“This was the best night ever,” Ava sighs, hugging herself for warmth. “I missed you so much, Jimin.”
Jimin smiles, though there’s a slight heaviness settling in his chest. “I missed you guys too.”
Emily exchanges a glance with the others before sighing dramatically. “Well, we should probably get going.”
Jimin blinks, confused. “Already? Where?”
Lucas scratches the back of his head. “Back to Canada.”
“What?” Jimin’s heart drops. “So soon?”
“We only came for the night,” Ethan says with a sheepish smile. “Your fiancé made sure we had the best time, but we didn’t want to disturb your alone time too much.”
Lucas groans dramatically. “As much as we’d love to crash your alone time with your fiancé, we figured we should give you two some space.”
Sungjae smirks. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to be third-wheeling your honeymoon phase.”
Jimin glances at Yoongi, who is leaning against a lamppost with his hands in his pockets, watching the exchange silently.
“I wish you could stay longer,” Jimin admits, trying to keep his disappointment out of his voice.
Sungjae pats his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll meet again soon. And hey, at least one of us isn’t leaving.”
Jimin frowns. “What do you mean?”
Minhyun, who has been quiet until now, shifts slightly. “I live here now.”
Jimin turns to him in shock. “You… what?”
Minhyun chuckles. “Yeah. I moved to Paris a while ago. I work here.”
Jimin’s mouth opens slightly, processing the information. Minhyun—has been in Paris all this time? He doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or frustrated that he’s only finding out now.
“You never told me,” Jimin mumbles.
Minhyun offers a small smile, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Well, I guess now you know.”
Jimin watches his friends disappear down the street, their laughter still echoing in the cool Paris air. Their parting words linger—promises to be there for his wedding, playful teasing, the warmth of their affection wrapping around him like a familiar embrace.
As he watches them disappear down the street, Jimin can’t shake the feeling that this night has changed something.
Jimin sways slightly as he stands, a wave of dizziness washing over him. His head feels light, the aftermath of the drinks catching up to him.
“Whoa—” Before he can stumble, Minhyun’s hands are on his arms, steadying him. “Easy there, hyung.”
Jimin blinks up at him, lips parting as he tries to focus.
“I should get you ice cream,” Minhyun says, his tone firm, like this is something he’s done many times before.
“Ice cream?” Yoongi questions, raising a brow.
Minhyun nods, not even hesitating. “It helps him get over the hangover.” His voice is sure, coming from years of experience.
Yoongi watches Jimin for a moment before exhaling through his nose. “I’ll get it for him.” Without waiting for a response, he starts walking.
Jimin watches, his gaze following Yoongi. His head feels heavy, but there’s warmth spreading in his chest that has nothing to do with the alcohol.
A few minutes later, Yoongi returns, holding a small cup of mango ice cream. “Here.” He hands it to Jimin.
Jimin looks at the ice cream, his lashes fluttering slightly as he stares at the bright yellow scoop.
Minhyun shifts beside him, hesitating before speaking. “Well—he doesn’t like mango—”
But before Minhyun can finish, Jimin takes the cup with a small, sleepy smile.
“It’s okay,” Jimin murmurs, scooping a small bite into his mouth. The taste of mango spreads over his tongue, a flavor he normally avoids, but right now, he doesn’t seem to mind.
Yoongi watches him, expression unreadable. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it.”
Jimin shakes his head, licking the ice cream anyway. “It’s fine. You got it for me.”
Minhyun watches quietly, something flickering in his gaze, but he doesn’t say anything. Yoongi, however, stares at Jimin for a moment longer before looking away.
Jimin smiles softly, something bubbling in his chest. He’s always chasing after Yoongi, always being the one trying to pull them closer. But tonight, Yoongi is the one who brought him here, the one who made sure he had fun.
And that means something.
He just doesn’t know what yet.