Chapter 2: The Connection Deepens

Yoongi wasn’t a man who often indulged in whims, yet he found himself drawn back to the café almost daily. At first, he reasoned it was the coffee—rich and aromatic in a way that soothed his ever-active mind. But as the days turned into weeks, he couldn’t ignore the real reason for his visits. It was Jimin. The younger man’s presence, a quiet but radiant warmth, had become a beacon in Yoongi’s otherwise meticulously controlled life.

Jimin noticed, of course. He would have had to be oblivious not to. Yoongi’s sharp suits and commanding aura made him stand out among the café’s usual patrons. But what struck Jimin more than his appearance was the way Yoongi’s guarded demeanor softened during their interactions. A reserved smile here, a fleeting moment of eye contact there—each exchange felt like a puzzle piece revealing a man far more complex than he appeared.

One evening, as the sky turned hues of orange and pink, Jimin’s shift came to an end. The café had emptied out, save for Yoongi, who lingered at his usual spot by the window. Jimin’s curiosity got the better of him, and instead of heading straight home, he approached Yoongi’s table.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Jimin asked, his voice tentative.

Yoongi looked up, surprised, but gestured to the seat across from him. “Please.”

Jimin slid into the chair, suddenly acutely aware of how intimate the small table felt. “You’ve been coming here a lot,” he said, trying to sound casual. “I hope it’s not just for the coffee.”

Yoongi’s lips quirked into the faintest smile. “The coffee is good, but no. I’ve found the atmosphere here… relaxing.”

“Relaxing?” Jimin tilted his head, a playful smile gracing his lips. “You don’t seem like the type who relaxes easily, Mr. Min.”

“Yoongi,” he corrected gently. “And you’re not wrong. My life doesn’t allow much time for… simplicity.”

“That must be exhausting,” Jimin said softly, his gaze searching Yoongi’s face. “Always having to keep up with everything, everyone.”

Yoongi’s expression faltered for a moment, a crack in the polished veneer. “It is. But that’s the price of responsibility.”

Their conversation flowed more easily after that, topics ranging from Jimin’s studies to Yoongi’s work. Jimin spoke passionately about his aspirations in medicine, his eyes lighting up as he described breakthroughs he dreamed of achieving. Yoongi listened intently, drawn to the younger man’s enthusiasm. In turn, Jimin was surprised by how candid Yoongi became, sharing glimpses of his childhood, his grandmother’s influence, and the weight of expectations he bore.

When the time came for Jimin to leave, Yoongi walked him to the door. Rain had begun to fall, and Jimin cursed under his breath as he realized he’d forgotten his umbrella.

Without hesitation, Yoongi handed him his own. “Take it.”

“But what about you?” Jimin protested.

“I’ll manage,” Yoongi said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll catch a cold otherwise.”

Jimin hesitated before accepting it, their fingers brushing once again. “Thank you, Yoongi.”

“Anytime,” Yoongi replied, watching as Jimin disappeared into the rain.

As he stood there, the rain soaking through his suit, Yoongi felt something he hadn’t in years—a spark of something fragile but undeniably real. And for Jimin, as he walked home clutching the umbrella, he couldn’t help but feel that, for the first time, someone had truly seen him.

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