Mr. Jeon didn't say a word as they left the boutique.

No apology. No approval.

But he hadn't stopped Jungkook either.

The silence between them was stiff over the next few days. Jungkook didn't expect anything. He had grown used to that heavy silence. But what he didn't know was that Mr. Jeon had spent that night quietly scrolling through photos Aiden had sent him the one where Jungkook stood in the red saree, eyes shining like embers, back straight, confidence glowing through the screen.

And for the first time, Mr. Jeon had wondered...

Had he ever really seen his son?

He didn't say much in the preparations. But he watched.

He watched how Jungkook laughed with Jin while choosing jewelry. How Taehyung doted on him like he hung the stars. How Jungkook's happiness glowed brighter each day, like a fire that refused to be dimmed.

And somewhere along the way, the silence inside Mr. Jeon started to shift.
-------------
The Next day✨

Location: A 700-year-old South Indian temple sacred, grand, wrapped in tradition, and dipped in marigold gold.

The grand temple was dressed like a dream vibrant marigold garlands hanging from the high ceilings, diyas lighting the entire path, and the warm scent of sandalwood and rose floating in the air.

The entrance was marked with rangoli, and classical music played in the background.It was intimate, sacred, magical.The air smelled of incense and jasmine.

The sun was setting behind the ancient temple spires, casting a golden-orange glow across the vast courtyard.

Dancers in traditional attire moved gracefully to live tabla beats, their anklets jingling as the Nadaswaram filled the air with energy and sacredness.

A river flowed behind the temple, and on its steps, hundreds of diyas floated gently like little flames carrying blessings.

It wasn't just a wedding engagement.

It was a cultural saga, a promise beneath the heavens.
------------

Soft drumbeats turned stronger as golden elephants led Taehyung's entourage into the temple.

And then there he was.

Draped in a majestic white shirt and golden plated mund. His hair styled back, and a red tilak across his forehead.

He looked like a king of the myth, like a prince carved out of every poet's wildest fantasy.

But nothing compared to what came next.

The sound of conch shells blew as the temple doors opened. The moment everyone turned, hearts stilled.

There, in the center of the arched doorway, stood Jungkook.

Not in a sherwani.

Not in anything they expected.

But in a stunning red saree, hand-embroidered with real gold threads, pleated perfectly across his strong form. His waist was cinched, blouse see through and bold.

The pallu floated behind him like royal fire. Traditional jewelry framed his glowing skin golden jhumkas, nath, layered necklaces, bangles up to his elbows.

He walked barefoot on the flower-laden path, each step soft, graceful, unshaken.

And his eyes? Fierce. Head held high. Spine straight. Sassy smirk perfectly in place.

He walked with pride, barefoot over a white cloth carpet sprinkled with rose petals.

A hushed silence fell. Mouths gaped. People stared.

He was a vision feminine and masculine, divine and untouchable, like a warrior god reborn as a bride.

Mrs. Jeon cried. Jin clutched Namjoon's arm. Jimin gasped, whispering, "This isn't just a man. That's a whole kingdom walking."

But Jungkook didn't even blink.

Instead, he twirled once when he reached the inner sanctum, his saree fluttering like wings.
---------

When jungkook slowly reached near his (soon to be) husband, his Taehyung.

Taehyung forgot to breathe.
And his eyes? Fixed on Jungkook like he was some prey to devour😌.

"You're going to kill me in that saree, Jeon." Taehyung whispered low, voice husky.

Jungkook smirked. "Good. I'll wear it to your funeral then."

Taehyung chuckled darkly, leaning in to press a kiss just above Jungkook's earring. "At least I'll die married to you."

As the priest began the rituals, he chanted ancient mantras as the fire pit was lit. Taekook sat cross-legged beside it on the sacred rug, hands joined.

The temple echoed with rituals passed down for generations.

Every time Taehyung glanced at Jungkook, it was with awe.

Jungkook noticed. "Stop looking at me like I'm a miracle."

Taehyung's fingers squeezed his. "You are." Taehyung and Jungkook sat side by side, hands joined, surrounded by fire, flowers, and the people they loved most.

Jungkook's eyes sparkled as Taehyung whispered, "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen."

Jungkook smirked. "Told you the saree would be worth it."

Taehyung leaned closer, voice low. "I'm going to kiss you the moment they say we're officially engaged."

"You better," Jungkook teased. "I didn't survive waxing and six safety pins for nothing."

Everyone laughed during the ring exchange Aiden fumbled with the box, Jimin cried dramatically, Yoongi pretended not to tear up, and Jin was already planning the next family photoshoot.
---------

The temple bells rang loud, echoing through the high carved domes like a divine heartbeat. Fire crackled in the havan kund as holy chants rose like waves, ancient and eternal.

Jungkook sat still, draped in the silk saree, his navel subtly peeking from the pleats, his back exposed just enough to make Taehyung's hands tremble as he stepped behind him.

The golden waistband around Jungkook's slim frame shimmered like sunfire, and his long earrings gently swayed with the breeze from the temple arches.

In his hands, Taehyung held the sacred taali a gold mangalsutra, shimmering with power, tradition, and promise.

The priest chanted louder.

"Now, put the taali around your bride's neck, and bind your souls forever."

Taehyung leaned forward, and the whole world held its breath. His fingers gently brushed the back of Jungkook's neck as he clasped the chain, his heartbeat louder than the drums.

Jungkook closed his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek-but his lips curved into a smirk.

"Don't mess up the clasp, Mr. Kim," he teased, voice soft but playful.

Taehyung chuckled under his breath, managing, "Not when I've waited my whole life for this."

With a knot, the taali was tied.

Whispers echoed. Some gasped at the image of Jeon Jungkook in a saree, becoming one with tradition so fearlessly. But all fell silent as the priest handed Taehyung the small silver bowl of vermillion.

Jungkook turned to face him-eyes fierce, lips painted blood red, forehead bare.

Taehyung dipped two fingers in the sindoor. For a moment, he just looked at Jungkook, his voice cracking:

"You're the most divine being I've ever seen."

And slowly, reverently, he placed the red streak on Jungkook's forehead, in the parting of his middle-parted hair.

Jungkook's breath caught. His fingers clutched the folds of his saree. The sindoor glowed bright-against dusky skin, against defiance, against centuries of what they were told they couldn't be.

"You're mine now," Taehyung whispered.

Jungkook smirked through the tears."Always was."

And the conch shells blew, the drums rolled louder, and the heavens above bore witness-Kim Taehyung and Kim (Jeon) Jungkook were now one.

They exchanged mala (garlands) under the temple dome.

(Imagine kook in red saree)

And then... Mr. Jeon stood up.

He walked toward Jungkook slowly. Everyone stilled.

Jungkook's fingers clutched his saree. His breath trembled.

Mr. Jeon stopped in front of him, eyes unreadable.

Then, wordlessly, he reached into his pocket... and pulled out a small kalava (red sacred thread), tying it softly around Jungkook's wrist.

"I may not understand everything," he said quietly, "but I know when my child is happy... and I can see it now."

Jungkook blinked, heart thudding painfully.

"Thank you," he whispered, eyes misting.

Mr. Jeon nodded once, his hand resting gently on Jungkook's shoulder, before stepping aside.

And just like that, the moment was sealed with acceptance, finally.

A slow clap came from behind. And then another. And another. The temple broke into applause, overwhelming and supportive.

The priest smiled and announced them betrothed.

But Taehyung didn't wait for any cue.

He pulled Jungkook into his arms right in the middle of the sacred temple and kissed him like the sky had just kissed the earth.

Slow.

Bold.

Reverent.

Jungkook melted for one second before pulling back as they heard Hobi Yelling , "Get a room!!."

Taehyung smirked. "That's what the wedding night's for."
-----

They danced under the stars that night in the temple courtyard, barefoot, laughing, drenched in flower petals.

They cheered, danced, cried. The family hugged. Jungkook was twirling in his saree with Taehyung's jacket draped over his shoulders, whispering promises and giggles.

The temple bell rang midnight.

It wasn't just a marriage.

It was a revolution of love.
----------
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨