
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8553820.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M, F/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Min_Yoongi_|_Suga/Park_Jimin, Jeon_Jungkook/Kim_Taehyung_|_V, Kim_Namjoon
      |_Rap_Monster/Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin
  Character:
      Park_Jimin_(BTS), Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin, Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap
      Monster, Jeon_Jungkook, Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Kim_Taehyung_|_V
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Assassins_&_Hitmen, Eventual_Smut, Torture,
      Violence, Abuse, Paranoia, Pain, Blow_Jobs, Gunplay, Hand_&_Finger_Kink,
      Angst, Fluff, Rimming
  Series:
      Part 1 of Jimin's_Pain
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-16 Completed: 2017-11-05 Chapters: 31/31 Words: 60823
****** Pained ******
by ziti
Summary
     “You’re not the first,” he sighs his response, concentrating on the
     smooth ground in underneath him, “but I have a feeling that you're
     the last.”
     “What makes you say that?” Yoongi questions after another long pause.
     “Isn’t it obvious? I can't outrun bullets,” Jimin tells him a bit too
     nonchalantly.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter Summary
     I spazzed out for a sec and accidentally deleted this
     chapter....sorries....
     anyway just reposting
With a small grunt Jimin stands from his seat on the floor in front of the
shelf he has just restocked, picking up the now empty cardboard box with him.
Looking down at the boxes of ramen, Jimin couldn’t help but admire the
perfection of his stacking and sorting skills. Brushing off his black skinny
jeans, he heads back towards the stockroom to get the next product that needed
displaying. Rounding the corner of the aisle, Jimin almost walks into a slender
man engrossed in his shopping list.
“I’m sorry,” Jimin mumbles with a bow, a pink flush appearing around his
cheeks. The man in front of him ignores the apology and continues to stare at
the paper in his hand.  At 5’8” Jimin’s not short but the man in front of his
is still just a bit taller. “Do you need some help?” Jimin finally offers.
“Um,” the man finally looks up and gives Jimin a quick once-over. “I guess.
Where do you keep the cooking oil?”
“It’s in Aisle 9,” Jimin answers immediately; after the three months he has
worked here, he already has the entire layout of the supermarket memorized.
When the man just looks down at his list again and back at Jimin with the same
confused expression on his face, Jimin smiles politely. “C’mon, I’ll show you
where it is.” He walks ahead of the customer towards the very last aisle of the
supermarket. “Are you looking for vegetable oil or olive oil?” Jimin asks,
tilting his head back a bit to address the man. “By the way, would you be
willing to wait about twenty minutes? My shift’s almost over anyway.”
“Pardon?” The almost silent footsteps behind Jimin stop.
“I know you're here to kill me too,” Jimin admits, spinning around to flash the
man a small dimpled smile. “The oil’s right there.” He points to the second to
last shelf in the middle of the aisle before making a hasty retreat to finish
restocking the shelves. Jimin attempts to concentrate on completing his last
shift as a stock but gets slightly distracted every time he sees a hint of that
mint hair pass by.
Finishing the last shelf, Jimin pulls out his phone to confirm the end of his
shift; not a moment later does the mint haired man appear by his side. “Let me
just clock out real quick,” Jimin points towards the small clock on the wall by
the manager’s office. Grunting out what seems like an agreement, the man
follows Jimin closely, expecting the younger man to try to escape.
Yoongi had been watching the boy work while he completed the shopping for the
week; Jin would be overjoyed that he was finally contributing to the house
chores. When he had gone to pay for the groceries in his hand, he had noticed
the boy’s co-worker eyeing him nervously, even dropping his change when handing
it back to him; no wonder she had disappeared into that back office afterwards.
He watches the boy remove his punch card from the wall and clock out with a
click. Replacing it, he turns back to face him. “We should probably take this
outside, right?”
Jimin leads Yoongi through the large stockroom and out the loading doors of the
supermarket. Alone in the back room of the supermarket, Yoongi suddenly feels
the urge to ask a question that had been on his mind for the last twenty
minutes. “What did you mean by what you said earlier?”
Jimin smiles a bit, knowing that the man had noticed his choice of words
earlier. “You’re not the first,” he sighs his response, concentrating on the
smooth ground in underneath him, “but I have a feeling that you're the last.”
“What makes you say that?” Yoongi questions after another long pause.
“Isn’t it obvious? I can't outrun bullets,” Jimin tells him a bit too
nonchalantly. “The others,” he hesitates with a small, almost unnoticeable
wince, “they weren’t packing.”
“How—”
“I have an eye for those types of things.” Jimin stops in his tracks to turn to
the man, “At least they finally sent you here to end it. Did they give you a
key?” Yoongi ignores the gesture and reaches into his pocket to produce a small
USB; when Jimin holds his hand out, Yoongi drops it into his palm without
hesitation.  He watches as Jimin bends down to his ankle and disarms the anklet
that feels like it has been there for years. It drops to the floor with a hard
clank and Jimin simply discards it into the bucket of dirty water used to mop
the floors. Jimin continues to approach a set of loading doors; pushing them
open he reveals a pitch black alleyway where no one would be able to see him
die. Upon stepping outside, Jimin looks up to the sky with a small pout; the
sky is downpouring and neither man has an umbrella.
“Turn around and get on your knees,” Yoongi instructs the boy.
Surprisingly—even without the gun out yet—Jimin does what he is told, kneeling
right in front of the large puddle threatening to flood the street, too tired
of this life to put up a fight. Jimin hears the killer click the safety off his
weapon and feels the metal barrel pressing against the back of his head, ready
to dye his bright orange hair red. He manages a small smirk one last time
before closing his eyes and accepting his fate. However, rather than feeling a
bullet enter his head, the sharp pain rushes that through instead comes
immediately after Yoongi pistol whips him and knocks him unconscious.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“Why are his clothes all wet?” Jimin hears a voice ask, a hint of disgust
present in the speaker’s tone.
“He fell forward into a puddle when I knocked him out,” the more familiar voice
explains.
“So you thought it would be a good idea for him to just lay on our floor in
soaking wet clothes?” the first voice retorts.
“I didn’t realize there was a protocol I wasn’t following.”
Someone rolls him off his back and onto his side; his clothes stick to the
floor and don’t move with the rest of his body. “Yoongi give me the keys. I’m
changing him out of these clothes; the floor is getting wet.” After a small
jangle and an abrupt sound muffling it, Jimin feels a warm hand brush past his
as someone unlocks and removes the metal rings digging into his wrists.
“Seriously,” the voice says as the owner runs a thumb across the red indent in
his skin, “one would think that you were  trying  to cut off the blood
circulation to his hands.”  It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Namjoon,” the voice above Jimin calls, “could you get some towels from the
bottom cabinet in the bathroom? And a bucket! Yoongi, turn down the air
conditioner. Why would you bother sparing him just to have him die of
hypothermia?” Hands start peeling off the black t-shirt Jimin is wearing over
his long sleeve shirt and Jimin has to keep himself from grunting in
displeasure as the wet fabric gets caught against his nose before the hands
yank it over his head. Just in time Namjoon brings the bucket and towels,
dropping dangerously close to Jimin’s head with a loud thud.
Yoongi watches as his hyung removes the towels from the bucket just to throw
the wet t-shirt inside with a loud squish. Next comes the long sleeve. As Jin
pinches the hem of the shirt to avoid getting rain water on himself the front
door opens and slams shut; a set of footsteps approaches and a new voice joins
the conversation. “Yah, hyung why are you undressing an unconscious dude in our
living room?”
“His name’s Park Jimin. I was supposed to kill him tonight,” Yoongi explains.
Jimin unconsciously releases a deep sigh. “Why didn’t you kill me?” he murmurs,
his head throbbing with each word. Immediately the hand leaves his shirt and
the warmth from the body is gone.
 “Why is a kid like you wanted dead?” Yoongi responds.
“ Kid ? I’m turning 22 in October,” Jimin counters, sitting up, “Besides,
wouldn’t the people that hired you have told you if you were supposed to know?”
A man approaches him slowly and drapes a fresh white towel around his
shoulders.
“Look pretty-boy, we're trying to help you,” Yoongi snaps, exasperated. The
older man shoots him a pointed look, cutting off his speech.
“What he means is, we can't keep you safe if you don't tell us what it is
that's putting you in danger.”
“Either kill me or don’t; I can't stay here,” Jimin tells them. Standing up a
bit too quickly, his knees buckle and he barely catches himself from falling.
Using the ball of his wrist to rub his temple, he adds, “They'll be sending
someone here soon anyway.”
 “Why would they send someone here?” the third voice questions.
“They know he didn't kill me. They're probably looking for me already.”
“All the more reason for you to stay,” the man moving to wipe the water on the
floor reasons. “We can protect you here.”
“I doubt it,” Jimin says; his stomach interrupts with a growl and the boy
curses under his breath.
“Are you hungry?”
“No,” Jimin replies coldly as his stomach betrays him with another pained
growl.
“When was the last time you ate?” Yoongi questions him.
“What day is it?”
“Friday,” the stern man answers.
“Six days, give or take a few hours." A few moments later, Jimin is sitting
awkwardly at the head of the dining table with a plate of food in front of him
while the four men continue to stare at him. The man who had uncuffed him is
named Jin; the man who had brought the bucket: Namjoon, and the latest to
arrive: Hoseok. All of them are older than him by at least a year. Each of them
have their own plate of food in front of them but Jin and Yoongi have yet to
touch their dinner, waiting for Jimin to make the first move. "I told you guys,
I'm not hungry," Jimin tries again. "The human body can go fourteen days
without food. I'm only on day six; I'll be fine."
"You're eating," Yoongi tells him. Growing impatient with the younger boy’s
constant protests he plants his gun onto the table with a loud thump. Hoseok
pauses shoving food into his mouth for a moment to look between his hyung and
his new dongsaeng, the tension almost palpable.
"How long are you going to keep threatening me with that gun?" Jimin narrows
his eyes at the older man.
"Until you start accepting our help," Yoongi replies, equally as stubborn as
Jimin.
"Then I guess you're better off shooting me," Jimin says, pushing his plate
away from him.
"I wouldn't put it past me," Yoongi challenges, cocking the gun.
"Enough already," Jin finally explodes. "Yoongi put the gun away; this is a
dining room, not a shooting range. Jimin, eat before I start shoving food down
your throat." Yoongi gives Jimin one last glare before removing the magazine
from his gun and tossing both parts onto the sofa in the next room. Seeing the
veins on Jin's arm twitching as he grips his knife, Jimin sheepishly inches the
plate closer to him. However, he still doesn't touch the food. In the midst of
the standoff, Hoseok and Namjoon have already finished more than half of the
food on their plate and are reaching to the middle to get more.
"Aren't you gonna wait for everyone else?" Jimin asks, eyeing the two.
"What do you mean?" Hoseok raises an eyebrow at him.
"Don't people consider it disrespectful to eat before everyone arrives?" Jimin
clarifies.
"What makes you think there's people that still haven't arrived?" Namjoon
questions between bites.
"There's no reason for a group of men living together to have this big of a
dining table unless they have people to fill in the seats; and there's still
two currently empty," Jimin reasons.
"They won't be back until later tonight, so don't worry about them," Jin smiles
warmly at him. Nudging the boy with his forearm, he says, "Eat."
 
===============================================================================
 
 
True to Jin’s words, Jungkook and Taehyung don’t return home until after
everyone else is fast asleep—well, everyone except Jimin. The four had insisted
on him staying the night, even threatening to handcuff him to the sofa. Jimin
still has no idea why he had ultimately relented and accepted the pillow and
blanket Namjoon provided him. It’s a little past five when the duo return from
who-knows-where, giggling jovially while entering the otherwise silent living
room. Before they can take another step, Taehyung’s arm shoots out in time to
stop his dongsaeng from walking into the path of the blade that flies right by
them. Just as quickly, they arm themselves with the guns they had concealed in
the waist of their pants, aiming in the direction the blade had come from.
To their surprise, standing in the warm glow of the only light in the room a
very flustered boy raises a hand in surrender while the other meekly rubs the
back of his neck in embarrassment. “Sorry,” he squeaks.
“Who the fuck are you and how did you get in here?” Taehyung demands.
“Um, I’m Park Jimin; Yoongi-ssi basically kidnapped me,” he explains.
Remembering Hoseok’s call mentioning a certain Park Jimin, Taehyung and
Jungkook slowly lower their weapons before tucking them back into their
waistbands.
“Why’d you throw a knife across the room at us?” Jungkook asks, gripping the
handle of the sharp kitchen knife.
“Well, I wasn’t aiming for you per say,” Jimin hesitates. “I was trying to
sleep on the couch but a really big fly got in here somehow so I was just
trying to get rid of it.” Both Taehyung and Jungkook look at the knife in the
wall, eyes trailing the length of the blade before seeing the black smudge
where the tip enters the wall. Upon closer examination, Jungkook sees the bug
moving, still very much alive as the blade had only clipped its wings to the
wall.
“Yah, this,” Taehyung gestures towards the stuck blade, “is not how you kill
flies.” He backtracks to the door and returns with a sneaker in his hand.
“Wait, that’s mi—.” Jungkook’s protest is interrupted when Taehyung uses one
hand to dislodge the knife with a swift pull at the same time his other hand
slams the bottom of the shoe against the wall, effectively killing the fly.
Jungkook shoots his hyung a look of annoyance as the other stands beside him
with a broad smile. He tosses the shoe back without a care, causing Jungkook to
run after it in worry.
“I’m Taehyung by the way,” Taehyung introduces himself to a bewildered Jimin.
“Call me Tae. Hobi says we’re the same age?”
“And I’m Jungkook,” the younger man adds as he returns from making sure his
baby is undamaged. "I guess I have another hyung now."
“Ha," Tae gloats.
“Whatever,” Jungkook groans, “I’m going to bed.” He shuffles his way through
the living room and disappears into the hallway, leaving Tae smiling brightly
at Jimin.
“I’m gonna head in too,” Tae finally says, tossing the knife onto the couch.
“Make sure to wash that; it’s Jin hyung’s favorite knife to cook with—wouldn’t
want the food getting contaminated, right?” He shoots Jimin one last smile
before disappearing from room, allowing Jimin to breathe a sigh of relief. “By
the way,” the voice snaps Jimin’s head back to attention, “did Yoongi mention
why he brought you here?”
“I mean, he was supposed to kill me,” Jimin answers.
“Yea,” the younger man lets out a light chuckle. “That much I figured. Anything
else?”
“Nope, your guess is as good as mine,” Jimin admits.
“Oh, well, good night Jiminnie.” With a short wave, Taehyung steps into the
hallway towards his room. After the initial sound of his door closing, the loft
falls into silence once again. Jimin listens to Tae's advice and washes the
blade briefly before replacing it in the drawer that he had originally found it
in. Reclining back onto the sofa, Jimin stares blankly at the ceiling, knowing
too well that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.
***** Chapter 2 *****
 
 
Mercy is a five letter word the weak use to delay the inevitable. That’s what
Yoongi has always been taught and that’s exactly how he has been living. It had
been working out well for him, up until the moment he was contracted to kill
Park Jimin. Rolling around on his bed Yoongi releases a groan into his pillow,
effectively muffling the noise. A few hours earlier, he had walked into one of
the bathrooms not knowing that Jimin would be in there showering. The loft has
two bathrooms. One is for common use. And other is specifically for the hyung
line to use—perks of being born earlier. Of course Jimin hadn’t known this at
the time and had already been stepping into the boxers when Yoongi had walked
in on him. Jin had sacrificed one of Yoongi’s many black hoodies and sweatpants
to the boy, going so far as to throw in a fresh pair of boxers for him to
change out of his wet clothes into.
While the younger boy had initially shrunk away at the intrusion, Yoongi
couldn’t help but stare. That boy has abs for days. And those thighs. Yoongi
licks his drying lips just thinking about them. He definitely didn’t expect the
boy’s physique to match that of Jungkook’s. What he did expect, however, were
the multiple scars and bruises that littered the otherwise impeccable body.
Burns. Abrasions. Black and purple bruises. Elongated slashes. You name it.
Jimin was covered in them. Hell, Yoongi had been certain that he saw a healing
bite mark in the boys hip, right above his sharp V-line. For a moment, both of
them had been silently watching the other. Yoongi himself had only been wearing
a plain black t-shirt with his checkered boxers but he had felt just as naked
as Jimin with the boy’s piercing gaze looking him over.
Jimin eventually broke the eye contact first by moving to throw Yoongi’s hoodie
on over his tan skin, covering the scars; because of the length of the
clothing, Jimin looked like he wasn’t even wearing boxers underneath it. The
delectable image had been enough to snap Yoongi out of his trance as he
stuttered out an embarrassed apology and backed out of the room. Now Yoongi
really didn't want to kill the poor boy.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
After another round of tossing and turning in an attempt to find comfort in his
bed, Yoongi gives up and reaches for his phone charging on his nightstand.
Initially bumping his wrist into the corner of the wood, Yoongi’s hand blindly
searches for the cord until he finds his phone. Awakening the device, he is
immediately blinded by the brightness of the screen and instinctively squeezes
his eyes shut. When his eyes stop burning, he slowly peels a single eye open to
read off the screen. 4 fucking 30. Great. He unlocks his phone, rolling to his
side so he wouldn’t have to tire himself by holding it up. He opens up the app
with the most notifications, his email. Scrolling through the junk mail and
advertisements, Yoongi is about to press the DELETE ALL button when a peculiar
subject heading catches his eye. Curiously, he opens the encrypted message that
his phone automatically decodes—courtesy of Namjoon’s programming.
Clicking the attached file, Yoongi carelessly allows the phone to slip from his
hand onto the bed in surprise. Playing on a loop is a video file, a recording
of the incident from the back alleyway. A recording documenting Yoongi’s
assault on Jimin before dragging him out of the frame. Below the video reads
the words “This wasn’t part of the agreement.” Under that loaded sentence is an
attached image. One depicting the warehouse Yoongi called home from a wide
aerial angle. Fuck. Suddenly, Yoongi narrows his eyes. “They know he didn't
kill me. They're probably looking for me already.” Jimin. He knew.
Seeing those images enrages Yoongi; he no longer cares about the pain behind
each wound on Jimin's incredible body. He no longer gave any fucks about the
boy—not when his family is being targeted because of him. Grabbing his gun off
the night stand in one hand and his phone in the other, Yoongi throws his
bedroom door open and storms into the living room. Jimin, still wide awake, is
sitting slouched under a blanket with his legs on the couch, playing on his
phone. The boy doesn’t have time to react before Yoongi climbs on top of him,
straddling him, with the gun pressed against his temple. “Woah, what the hell?”
Jimin hisses in surprise, his phone to falling onto the rug with a muffled
thud. The look in Yoongi’s eyes is livid, sending a warning to Jimin not to
test the older.
“You set us up,” Yoongi accuses, pressing the gun harder against the boy’s
skin.
“What are you talking about?” Jimin snaps, his brows furling in confusion.
“This,” Yoongi replies, shoving the phone into Jimin’s hands. Jimin looks at
the screen, his expression changing from confusion to anger as he sees it.
“I fucking told you that it was stupid to make me stay here,” Jimin retorts,
struggling to throw Yoongi off him. In response, Yoongi grabs Jimin by the
wrist pinning both hands to his chest and glares down at the boy.
“You know for a fact that none of us could actually make you stay here,” Yoongi
counters. If Yoongi were to blink at that moment, he would have missed that
look on Jimin’s face falter just a bit. Although he didn’t know it at the time,
the older is right; Jimin doesn’t submit to anyone. Not anymore. “I’m putting
an end to this right now,” Yoongi continues, bringing Jimin out of his inner
thoughts. He releases the boy’s arms to cock his gun and push it onto Jimin’s
forehead, right between his eyes. “You know, I honestly thought you were one of
us. How stupid was I to think that you were anything more than a fucking
worthless street thug?” Jimin gets angry at the accusations and just looks back
at Yoongi with a fearless scowl, even lifting his head from the pillow to be
closer to the gun, egging the older man to pull the trigger.
“What the fuck is going on out here?!” a voice shouts, snapping both boys out
of their stare-down. At this point, the rest of the bedroom doors have opened
and sleepy boys wander out into the hallway, trying to rub away the sleep in
their eyes. Namjoon stands the closest to the heated situation, glaring at both
Yoongi and Jimin for causing a ruckus so early in the morning.
“Go back to bed Namjoon; I’m just finishing a job I started,” Yoongi spits,
keeping his eyes on the boy under him.
“I know we kill people and all,” Tae jokes, attempting to defuse the situation,
“but is it really necessary to indulge in gun-play while you’re on our couch?”
“Knock it off, Tae,” Jin mumbles, slightly nudging the boy with his elbow.
“What happened to protecting Jimin?” Jungkook asks his hyung innocently,
scratching the back of his neck.
“Right now I’m more concerned with protecting us,” Yoongi clarifies, tossing
Jungkook his phone. Even in his tired state, Jungkook catches the device
without hesitation. The rest of the members gather around Jungkook to look at
the screen. After thoroughly processing the email, the five heads look back at
the duo on the couch. “He knew,” Yoongi explains. “He fucking knew they were
watching and he still took me to that alleyway.”
“Jimin, care to explain?” Namjoon asks him.
“I would but your guard dog wants to bite my head off,” Jimin retorts.
At that Yoongi leans in further, “I swear to God, I will end you right now. Say
one more word—.”
“Yoongi, that’s enough,” Jin finally speaks up. “Let’s hear what he has to
say.” Yoongi scowls but sits back up on Jimin, taking the gun away from his
head.
“Well?” he asks, an eyebrow twitching.
“The gang that hired you to kill me,” Jimin starts. “They’d like to think they
own me, in the every literal aspect of the word. I was one of their ‘most
prized possessions’. Emphasis on was. Apparently my value has been completely
expended. But I know too much, saw too much. Therefore they can’t afford to
have me running loose. You saw the tracking anklet I had on me.” Jimin glares
at Yoongi. “If I was anywhere more than 200 meters from the supermarket, it
emits an electric shock and continues to electrocute me until I’m back within
the radius. If they’re willing to go that far to keep me close, think about how
obvious it would be to keep cameras on me too. I didn’t lead them here Yoongi.
You did.”
“Would you have preferred me killing you?” Yoongi yells back.
“Anything would be better than living in this shitty-ass hell called life,”
Jimin argues. “You would’ve been doing me the biggest favor if you had the
balls to just pull the fucking trigger.”
“You wanna talk about having balls?” Yoongi leans forward on Jimin again,
pressing the gun down hard enough to leave a lasting print on Jimin’s forehead.
“Does anybody else feel the sexual tension in here,” Tae whispers to an
agreeing Hoseok, using their hands to fan each other.
“Tae, I swear to God I’ll put a bullet in you too,” Yoongi says, waving his gun
towards the boy. In that moment that Yoongi is distracted, Jimin takes the
opportunity to throw the older boy off of him, causing him to land roughly on
the rug, narrowly missing the coffee table. Suddenly a shot goes off, shocking
all seven boys in the room. Yoongi sits up immediately, dangling the gun from
his hand. He didn’t shoot and nobody was shot. Twelve eyes follow the echo of
the sound to see Jin standing with a steaming shotgun in his hands and a hole
in the ceiling above him.
“What the fuck, hyung?”
“Watch your mouth,” Jin tells him, swinging the shotgun. “I just had to get
these two to stop before one of them decides to get blood all over my
cushions.”
“I’m betting my money on Yoongi hyung,” Tae announces, flashing his contagious
box smile. In an instant the situation seems to have defused thanks to Jin
shooting a hole into their ceiling that he has charged Yoongi and Namjoon with
fixing in the afternoon. Jin confiscates Yoongi’s gun and forces five
dongsaengs around the dining table while Namjoon returns to his room to track
the sender of the email and access the threat.
While Hoseok, Tae, and Jungkook are playing on their phones and Jin is cooking
up an early morning breakfast, Yoongi continues to stare daggers at Jimin.
Breathing a bit heavily, Jimin’s anger has begun to die down, leaving the boy
in a self-loathing mess. I need to leave. I’ll leave and they’ll be okay. He
can feel Yoongi’s eyes burning a hole into the top of his head as he looks down
to twiddle his fingers on his lap. Lost in thought, Jimin’s brows furl; how did
the look Yoongi had given him in the bathroom suddenly turn into this? The
situation doesn’t get better when he tries to bury himself into the sleeves of
the hoodie, immediately smelling Yoongi’s fresh scent in the fabric. I’m sorry.
No you’re not. The voice in his head startles Jimin, but before he could
investigate it further, Namjoon returns with Yoongi’s phone and Jin arrives
with pancakes.
Jin forces a pancake onto the plate in front of Jimin as everyone else begins
to attack the stack. Jimin barely lifts his head to look at the fluffy circle,
knowing quite well that Yoongi is still looking at him with a murderous scowl.
At Jin’s insistence, Jimin starts picking at the pancake, using his fork to cut
small bites out of the perfect circle. Everyone continues to eat without a
word, allowing the only noise at the table to be that of forks and chewing.
“Well?” Yoongi finally asks Namjoon. A quick glance at his plate shows only the
crumbs of the two pancakes the man had already finished.
“The threat could be real,” Namjoon starts, talking between bites, “but not
yet, I don’t think. I did a little digging. That picture they sent you was an
image from GoogleEarth. They aren’t actually already here.” A harmonious sigh
of relief is let out as most of the boys begin to relax.
“I’m going to go,” Jimin states with a sense of determination, standing from
his chair. “I can’t let you guys get caught in the crossfire of my battles.”
Not again.
“Bit late for that don’t you think?” Yoongi mutters bitterly under his breath.
“No time like the present to rectify my mistakes,” Jimin retorts. “I’m gonna go
change.” He takes a step away from the table but is stopped immediately by the
hand shooting out to grab his wrist.
“What Yoongi means is that this is our battle now too,” Jin smiles at Jimin. “I
know you’ve only been here for less than 12 hours but you’re clearly one of
us.”
“One of you?” Jimin scoffs, “you don’t even know me.”
“Well it’s not like you know any of us either right?” Hoseok reasons with a
blinding smile.
“What makes you think I want to know any of you? Or are you forgetting that I
was knocked out and brought here—I don’t even know where here is,” Jimin
retorts stubbornly. “And trust me, you don’t want to know me. Wherever I go,
death follows closely behind.”
“Hmm, what a coincidence,” Jungkook hums.
“You people are crazy,” Jimin says, wiggling his arm out of Jin’s death grip.
“They say the best people are,” Tae chirps. “Besides even if you leave, they’ll
still be hunting all seven of us. Plus you have all the inside knowledge on
them. So why not just stay? Help us even the battlefield?”
“I’ve done enough damage as it is,” Jimin admits lowering his head to look at
his socks.
“What are you talking about?” Namjoon laughs, walking up to him. “You haven’t
done shit yet. Sure, Jin hyung shot a hole into the ceiling; but that’s
absolutely nothing compared to what we do.” Looking up to face the leader,
Jimin can see the smiles and nodding heads sitting at the table behind him.
These people are asking for a death wish.
***** Chapter 3 *****
After the mess that was breakfast, Hoseok volunteers Taehyung and Jungkook to
do the dishes and clear the table with him while Jin, Yoongi, and Namjoon have
a hushed talk with Jimin in Namjoon’s room.
“What do you think they’re talking about in there?” Jungkook asks his hyungs,
nodding towards the door while absentmindedly wiping dry yet another plate.
“Probably some boring adult stuff,” Tae guesses acting like he and Hoseok
aren't adults themselves. Holding a small spoon that Jin-hyung had used to stir
sugar into his coffee, he looks between the running water and his friends. With
a growing smile on his face, he picks his target and thrusts the spoon under
the facet, directing the stream straight into his hyung’s face.
“Yah, you little brat,” Hoseok laughs, holding up a syrupy plate as a shield.
Before Jungkook could even laugh at his playful hyungs, the cold water is
suddenly drenching him. While shying away from the water, Jungkook launches the
wet rag he had been holding at Tae, knocking the spoon out of his hand and
neutralizing the threat. Walking back to the sink with his shirt soaked
through, Jungkook fails to realize the transparency of his shirt, at least not
until Tae starts licking his lips and quietly eye fucking the boy. Quickly,
Jungkook scrambles to cover his already hardening nipples and his built body.
“I-I’m gonna go change,” he announces, backing away from his hyung’s
shamelessly lustful eyes.
“I’ll come help you,” Tae offers, stepping towards him. Before managing to
plant a foot in his dongsaengs direction, Hoseok’s hand shoots out and take
hold of the collar of his shirt, preventing him from following.
“You’re not going anywhere until you clean up this mess.” Jungkook can’t help
but snicker at hearing Tae’s defeated groan. Walking into the hallway, Jungkook
reaches his arms over his shoulders to pull the back of his shirt up and peel
the soaked fabric off his skin. He sticks his hand into the bathroom and throws
the shirt into the hamper with a wet squish before continuing to his bedroom.
“Why the fuck not?” Jungkook hears as he passes Namjoon’s room.
“It’s too dangerous for you to go back home,” Namjoon’s deep voice responds.
“So you’re just gonna keep me locked up in here?” Jimin retorts.
“More like keeping you here for your own safety,” Jin corrects. “Just stay
until we know the threat is neutralized. After that we won’t force you to stay
if you don’t want to.”
“At least let me fucking feed my dog and get some clothes,” Jimin bargains.
“We already have your address; we’ll go feed your mutt for you,” Yoongi
interjects.
“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you people into my house,” Jimin protests.
“You act like we’re asking for your permission,” Yoongi retorts.
“If you’re so concerned about my safety, why don’t you just come with me and
wait outside?” Jimin suggests.
Before Yoongi could reply with another smart mouth comment, Jin steps in to put
an end to the bickering, “Fine. We’ll take you there; you have twenty minutes
to do what you need to do and get out. After that we’re storming in whether you
want us to or not.”
“Thank you,” Jimin smiles smugly, having won over Yoongi.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Jin parks directly at the entrance of the rundown building Jimin lives in.
Hoseok and Tae exit the van first after getting the okay from Jungkook, who has
been surveying the area through the few security cameras in the neighborhood
and from Namjoon positioned with his sniper rifle on top of the building across
the street. The pair position themselves at the entrance of the building.
Peering inside, Hoseok doesn’t see a single person in sight. Hoseok nods a
signal to Jin who give Yoongi and Jimin the go ahead to enter the building.
Begrudgingly, Jimin hands his set of keys over to Yoongi and allows the older
to enter the building first. Stepping inside, Yoongi leads the way up the
flight of stairs while hugging the wall. Growing impatient at how slowly it is
taking them to get to his apartment, Jimin lets out a frustrated groan and
pushes pass his hyung up the flight of stairs, bumping into him to steal his
keys back.
“Brat, what the fuck are you doing?” Yoongi shout-whispers after him.
“Nobody lives in this building besides me. If anybody had even entered this
building while I was gone, I’d know,” Jimin explains, walking ahead. He
nonchalantly strolls up to his apartment door and unlocks the many locks on the
door. By the time he’s done unlocking the door, Yoongi has caught up with him.
Opening the door only slightly, Jimin stops himself before he can reveal his
home to his elder. “Wait out here,” he tells him, shooting Yoongi a warning
look. He slips inside the apartment and locks the door behind him.
“Yah, you brat, unlock the door or I will shoot it down,” Yoongi yells, banging
on the old panel of wood.
“Calm down, the door locks automatically. I’ll be quick. Just wait outside.”
Jimin calls back. Jimin returns his attention to the barren apartment. He walks
straight through the empty living room into his own room, a smile growing on
his face in anticipation of seeing his pet.
“Hello Hoondae,” Jimin smiles happily at the unresponsive man tied to the chair
inside a large metal basin nailed to the floor in the middle of the room.
Thanks to Jimin, his face is a brilliantly bruised work of art. The dry blood
on his cheeks add a much needed vibrant touch of color to the masterpiece.
Unfortunately it seems that the man has soiled himself more than once during
Jimin’s absence, creating a stench in the room that Jimin could just barely
stand. Jimin rolls a large trunk—the only other piece of furniture in the
entire apartment—in front of the man to sit down on. A quick slap to a large
welt on the man’s face wakes him up immediately.
“Good morning,” Jimin greets a bit too cheerfully. “Have you been a good boy
while I was gone?” The man starts panicking in the chair, struggling futilely
against the tight restraints. His breathing becomes frantic despite the gag in
his mouth preventing too much air from entering his lungs. “You seemed to have
made a mess of yourself,” Jimin continues, crinkling his nose at the smell.
“But don’t worry, boy. I’m nottoomad at you.” Jimin grips the knife that’s been
lodged into Hoondae’s thigh and starts twisting, causing tears to well up in
the man’s already bloodshot eyes. He tries to scream out in pain only to have
the noise stifled by the gag. “Shhh, shhh,” Jimin coos, watching the man’s
blood leak out and drip into the yellow liquid within the basin, each drop
blooming in the liquid, “I have something important I need to tell you.” He
stops twisting the blade in the man’s leg but his grip on the handle tightens.
Without warning, Jimin dislodges the blade in a swift pull, hoping get the
man’s attention. “I’m gonna be living somewhere else now and I don’t think
they’d allow me to keep a pet.” Jimin slowly runs the bloody knife across the
man's cheek, applying enough pressure to start a new line of blood flowing over
the dried drool on the man’s face.
“So I guess this is goodbye,” Jimin feigns sadness and reinserts the the blade
into the man’s leg with a harsh stab. The man releases a loud cry that Jimin
ignores. Instead, Jimin gets up from his seat and goes to wash his hands in the
bathroom, leaving the blubbering mess of a man alone in his room. Upon
returning, he finds the man silent, most likely unconscious from the pain or
from the loss of blood. Either way, Jimin ignores him and drags the trunk out
to the door.
Hearing noise of the wheels rolling over the wooden floor, Yoongi sends Jimin
an update. “You have eight minutes left before I bust in there.”
“Yea, yea,” Jimin mutters under his breath. He kneels down in front of the
trunk and opens it with a click. Lifting the top layer of the trunk that holds
the few articles of clothing in his possession, Jimin reveals his entire
arsenal and pulls out a small box of matches. Pocketing the matches and closing
the trunk, he opens his door and slides the trunk out. “Watch this for me real
quick. I forgot to unchain the dog.” Before Yoongi could even respond, the door
is slammed in his face yet again, adding to his growing impatience and dislike
for the boy.
Meanwhile Jimin reenters his room. Tousling the hair of Hoondae, awakening him
once again, Jimin smiles one last time at the man before striking a match and
tossing it into the basin. To the man’s horror, the basin catches fire; both
men knew it wouldn’t be long until Hoondae did too. In an act of desperation,
Hoondae releases a noise that sounds like a cross between a sob and plead for
mercy; but Jimin doesn’t even look back at the burning figure. Quickening his
footsteps, Jimin exits the room, closing the door behind him. He makes his way
out of the apartment in record time only to be greeted by a very suspicious
Yoongi.
“What’s that noise?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at Jimin.
“I told you I had to let the dog go. He’s probably whining about me leaving
him.” Jimin lies flawlessly. “Help me with this?” he nods towards the trunk.
Stubbornly, Yoongi grabs a hold of one end of the trunk while Jimin takes the
other. They find Tae waiting for them at the bottom of the staircase; he
obediently takes Yoongi’s end of the trunk without being asked and helps Jimin
carry it out the front of the building to the van where Jin and Hoseok are
waiting. Not a moment later does Namjoon appear from across the street and
claims the passenger seat next to Jin. After everyone is boarded, the van peels
away from the curb as quickly as it had originally arrived.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
The seven of them spend the afternoon buying furniture for Jimin’s new room and
clothes to add to the few garments Jimin had stuffed in the trunk. Back at the
loft everyone calls dibs on a piece of furniture they want to help assemble,
all except for Yoongi who doesn’t do manual labor and Jin who begins to prepare
a special dinner to celebrate Jimin officially moving in with them. Given the
empty room between Yoongi and Jungkook, Jimin had been quick to settle in once
the furniture had been built. Jungkook, although still a bit shy to his new
hyung, had welcomed his new next door roommate with a smile. Yoongi on the
other hand had threatened Jimin at gunpoint to keep quiet whenever he was in
his room; no wonder the room beside Yoongi’s had remained empty.
When the table is completely set for dinner, Jin sets down an already full
plate of food in front of Jimin before reclaiming his seat the head of the
table with Namjoon on his right and Yoongi on his left. Hoseok sits next to
Namjoon as usual. Jungkook sits down beside Hoseok and Tae had looked ready to
fight for the chair across from him, forcing Jimin to sit shoulder to shoulder
with his most favorite person in the world. Before the starving animals could
attack their dinner, Jin stands to make a toast.
“The six of us all grew up in an orphanage together, and none of us knew who
our parents were. In a sense we didn’t really know who we were, who we were
supposed to be, the people we were supposed to become. But one day someone came
to the orphanage and gave us a purpose.” He pauses to fish out the necklace
around his neck. In the very middle hangs a single golden bullet casing. “Last
night, Yoongi found Jimin, a boy too young to die but already prepared for
death. Instead of killing him, Yoongi brought him home to us. And just like
that man, wherever he may be now, we hope to be able to give you a purpose to
live too.”
For some reason, Jimin suddenly can’t hear anything but the pounding of his own
heart in his ears. Was he getting sentimental? Impossible right? He had just
remorselessly set a man on fire a few hours ago. There is no way that Jin’s
sappy-ass speech is actually affecting him. What is wrong with me? Jimin
inhales sharply. Maybe this is the plan; maybe they’re all just trying to
butter him up so he would taste better at the roast. That has to be it. They’re
just trying to trick me into letting my guard down. Nobody in this day and age
would ever try to save someone with expecting something in return. And when I
least expect it—
“Jimin,” Tae shouts, startling the older boy out of his screaming thoughts. Tae
traces a hand down Jimin’s forearm and rests it on Jimin’s left hand. Looking
down, Jimin realizes that he has been gripping a knife in his hand the entire
time. Immediately, Jimin drops the silverware, letting it hit the table with a
loud clatter, and scoots his chair back from the table.
“I-I,” Jimin stutters, trying to find the appropriate words to explain himself.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He allows a few tears to roll down his cheeks
unwiped, finding comfort in feeling the droplets fall off the very tip of his
chin. He feels a warm arm snaking around his shoulder and looks up to find
Tae’s bright box-like smile blinding him. The younger boy starts stroking his
back, allowing his fingertips to graze over Jimin’s bony spine.
“It’s okay. You can let it out,” Tae encourages in a small voice. “We’re family
now.” Family. Those are the people you can’t trust the most in this world.
Sniffling a few times to put on a good show, Jimin finds Hoseok’s hand extended
over the table, offering him a napkin to dry his tears. These fuckers, acting
like they actually care. Jimin manages a small smile of gratitude before taking
the soft fabric and dabbing at the edges of his eyes to dry the tears. After
Jimin fully composes himself, Namjoon stands with his glass in hand.
“To family,” he smiles, holding the glass out. Jin picks up his glass and
repeats the phrase with the other four boys, including Yoongi, following suit.
They all turn to look at Jimin who still hasn’t moved from his seat.
Cautiously, he takes his glass and stands with the rest of them causing the
smile on most of their faces to grow even more. “Bangtan, Bangtan,” Namjoon
cheers.
“Bang, Bangtan,” the rest finish. All six of the boys down the contents of
their glasses and sit back down, leaving Jimin standing alone, too stunned to
move.
“What was that?” he asks in complete bewilderment.
“That was us,” Tae smiles. “Bangtan Sonyeondan, BTS for short.”
***** Chapter 4 *****
A week of what Jimin calls “suspicious normalcy” has passed and yet Jimin
hasn’t left the loft even once. By the time he had waken up at two in the
afternoon, the loft is already empty. A note on his door lets him know that
Jungkook has gone to school, Tae and Hoseok have gone out to do their part-time
jobs, Namjoon is driving Jin to the supermarket, and Yoongi is out “taking care
of some business”. Of course they had known better than to leave Jimin alone in
their home. Every time before they leave, they set up trip wires at the doors
that Jimin isn’t supposed to use, e.g. the front door and Yoongi’s bedroom
door. The quickest anyone had gotten back was Tae in 10 minutes, not enough
time for Jimin to even make it half a mile away from the house.
Rather than set them all off, Jimin decides to be a good freeloader and follow
Jin’s explicit instructions to eat breakfast. Retrieving the plate of food from
the microwave, Jimin situates himself on the couch nearest the windows, soaking
in the warm afternoon sunlight. Slowly but steadily Jimin makes progress in
eating small bits and pieces of the food; he needs to let his body readjust
itself to digest food, something that it hadn’t done in a while. He’s chewing
yet another bite when something outside catches his eye.
A black Sedan speeds down the road only to come to a screeching halt across the
street from the loft. Suspicious, Jimin gets up from his seat and brings his
half eaten food to the kitchen. He wouldn’t have time to assemble his own so he
sneaks into Namjoon’s room to borrow his sniper rifle, the one the man leaves
hanging on his wall. Jimin enters the room and spots the weapon immediately;
making sure not to step on any of the piles of clothes scattered on the floor
of the messy room, Jimin removes the rifle from above the headboard, quickly
noting how it had been hanging so he could replace it later. Entering his own
room, Jimin opens the chest and pulls out a handgun that he tucks into his
waistband and ammunition that luckily matched the rifle.
He positions himself in the living room, facing the possible assailants head
on. He watches the car closely through the scope, holding his breath when four
men in total step out; they’re all wearing suits, tinted sunglasses, and face
masks. And all of them appear to be armed. With his finger hovering over the
trigger, Jimin takes aim but doesn’t shoot, having decided to give them the
benefit of the doubt that they aren’t here for him. When one of the men takes
his first step towards the loft, Jimin fires, hitting one of them right between
his eyes. While reloading, Jimin springs up from his position and moves to his
bedroom. The three remaining men have taken cover behind the vehicle; his
window gives him an angle at which he can shoot them. But the most ideal
position would be in Yoongi’s room. Using the edge of the window sill to
support the gun, Jimin takes aim once again. He points the gun towards the one
closest to the rear of the car, the one who’s dumb enough to look for a sniper
by peering his head out, giving Jimin the perfect target to fire at. He pulls
the trigger again and the man falls dead onto his comrades. Jimin smiles as he
reloads again; this is fun.
When the two remaining men begin to fire back, aimlessly shooting up the
windows, Jimin knows that he needs a good alibi, dead bodies he could’ve made
do with; broken windows, not so much. He replaces Namjoon’s sniper rifle
exactly the way he had found it and goes to the living room to wait for the
intrusion. As soon as Jimin plants himself on the couch and turns on the TV,
the banging at the door starts. A few moments later the noise concludes with a
resounding fawp as the door crashes down onto the wooden flooring, triggering
an alert to be sent to the other six residents of the home. Jimin has already
positioned himself behind the armrest of the couch, pretending to cower in
fear. To no surprise, the men spot him instantly and march over to him, guns
aimed and ready to be fired.
“Up,” one of them commands. Acting frightened, Jimin makes his first move
sudden, sparking yet another command. “Slowly. Hands behind your head.” Jimin
does as he’s told and rises slowly.
“P-please,” Jimin stutters, “please don’t k-kill me.” Seeing the two men in
front of him up close, he realizes that he doesn’t recognize either of them;
maybe they aren’t here for him. But if not for him then who?
“Look kid, I don’t know who you are but if you wanna come out of this alive,
you’ll tell me where he is,” the man tells him.
“Wh-where’s who?” Jimin replies, shakily.
“Don’t play dumb,” the man snaps, raising his voice. Jimin flinches enough for
his reaction to be visible.
“Please I don’t want any trouble,” Jimin starts, “but I don’t know who you’re
talking about.” Right on cue, tears begin to form in his eyes. “If you could
just tell me who you’re looking for maybe I could—”
“Shut up. Where is Suga?”
Jimin almost snickers, “W-who?”
“Your little boyfriend. The one that we watched waiting for you to get off
work.” Yoongi? Jimin makes a mental note to himself to remember to ask what
“Suga” is.
“He-he went out to take care of some business,” Jimin admits, “he left his
phone here so I-I can’t contact him.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to wait for him to get back then, yea?” One of the men
motion for him to walk closer. Turning him around, they roughly pull Jimin’s
hands down behind his back and secure a set of handcuffs around them. They
shove him down onto the couch and stand looming above him. “You’re gonna be a
good boy and entertain us while we wait for him.” One of them pulls him up by
the chin while the other one starts wandering into the kitchen. Jimin turns his
head to keep an eye on the other man but gets his hair forcefully yanked and
crotch shoved into his line of vision.
“Hey, pay attention. You should know what to do.” When Jimin looks up at him
with a look of contempt, the man pushes the barrel of his gun against his head.
“Make sure not to use your teeth.” Growling under his breath, Jimin leans
forward and takes the zipper’s pull tab between his teeth and slides it down.
He flattens his tongue and licks the man’s boner through his boxer briefs. He
starts sucking at the bulge through the fabric, the man beginning to throb
between his lips. Carefully, Jimin uses his teeth to move the waistband of the
underwear down. Having the material between his teeth, he can’t help but graze
his teeth against the man’s skin as he pulls it down. Immediately a hand shoots
out and slaps his cheek, causing Jimin recoil away from the man. “What did I
say about using teeth?” the man growls.
“I-I,” Jimin stutters.
“Did I tell you to stop?” The man’s hand is on the back of Jimin’s head forcing
his face into his hard dick. The drops his hips slightly, sliding his hard cock
along Jimin’s burning cheek. “Keep going.” Begrudgingly, Jimin sticks his
tongue out and licks a thick stripe along the bottom of the man, flicking his
tongue at the very tip before wrapping his lips around the tip. God he tastes
disgusting. Letting his jaw relax, Jimin slowly moves his head lower, taking in
the man one inch at a time. Instead of allowing Jimin to continue at his own
pace, the man grabs Jimin’s hair and violently thrusts his entire length into
Jimin’s mouth, causing the younger boy to gag. Immediately real tears pool in
his eyes. For a moment the man just stays like that, making Jimin deepthroat
him completely. When he finally pulls out his saliva-coated dick, Jimin coughs
loudly, gasping for air.
Again a hand flies across his face. “Oh don’t act like you’ve never deep-
throated someone before, princess,” the man taunts. Jimin’s eyes start clouding
and spits the taste of the man out of his mouth. Suddenly, the man plants a
foot on the outside of Jimin’s thigh pries Jimin’s mouth open. He inserts
himself and thrusts, fucking Jimin in the mouth. Jimin’s back is forced up
against the back of the couch as the man starts to move his hips faster and
harder. His hearing becomes interrupted by the sound of his own heart pounding
from the lack of oxygen and he can’t hear the profanities the man thrusting
into him is spouting.
While making sure that he is breathing enough, Jimin starts to work on
unlocking the metal rings digging into his skin. He manages to synchronize the
sound of the cuff unlocking with a loud whimper as the man’s leaking tip hits
the very back of his throat. Looking beside him, he reaches over and grabs the
lamp, swinging it at the man’s head with a ferocious velocity. He drops to the
ground and the man in the kitchen eating Jimin’s leftover breakfast looks up.
But Jimin is faster and pulls out the weapon he had concealed, firing two shots
into the man’s heart. He steps down on the hand reaching for the gun that has
landed on the seat of the couch, grinding it into the broken shards.
“Why are you looking for Suga?” Jimin asks, hovering over the man groaning on
the floor with shards of porcelain in his face.
“Fuck you, bitch,” the man spits out bloody saliva.
“Tell me and I might just finish blowing you before I kill you,” Jimin
negotiates, moving his foot off the man’s bloody wrist and sliding it over the
man’s dying hard-on.
“Go to hell, you slut.” With that Jimin shoots him dead with his own weapon,
making sure to scatter the shots to resemble the marksmanship of a novice.
Tossing the gun into the growing pool of blood, Jimin runs out of the loft and
picks up the dead men from the street, dragging them into the house. He drops
one beside the TV that’s broadcasting a music program and places the other one
over the back of the couch. He takes a lighter from the kitchen to cauterize
the bullet wounds of the first two, hiding one with a bandage and hiding the
other by splashing blood from their dead friend onto his face. He shoots the
man in the kitchen in the leg and in his pancreas. He grabs a kitchen knife and
stabs the one on the couch in the back. Jimin puts his gun back in his own
room, reminding himself to clean it off later, and crouches down in the corner
of the living room.
Moments later, he hears a very loud, very angry, “What the fuck?” Putting on a
scared expression and forcing himself to tremble, Jimin folds into himself in
the corner when Yoongi walks in. His eyes meet Jimin’s immediately but the
older man is too stunned to move. Neither of them have ever seen the other
wearing such an expression. For once Yoongi’s face isn’t devoid of emotion; in
a way, he almost appears like a genuine human being. Even though Yoongi can’t
pull his gaze away from the  glossiness in Jimin’s eyes, he sees a very visibly
painful patch of red on Jimin’s cheeks. Not once has the boy relented his
haughty attitude since he had moved in with them. Now Jimin just looks broken.
Completely and utterly destroyed. He wants the boy to make some snarky comment
about how Yoongi’s speechless expression doesn’t suit him. He waits for Jimin
to curl the corner of his lip up into a smirk and brag about how the attackers
underestimated him. But the boy doesn’t do anything. Instead he just sits there
looking back at Yoongi, the spark in his eyes put out by the pain-filled tears
threatening to spill out.
“Oh my god, Jimin.” Jin rushes over to him, stepping through the pools of blood
and over the bodies, but Yoongi still can’t bring himself to break his gaze
away from the boy. Jin pulls Jimin into his arms and squeezes, ending the
staring contest. “I’m so sorry. We should’ve never left you here by yourself.”
“Hyung,” Jimin sobs into Jin’s arms.
“What the hell happened?” Namjoon asks Yoongi, pissed off.
“I just got back too.” Yoongi looks over the mess of his home. When he spots
the handcuffs and the body on the floor with his limp dick hanging out of his
pants, his expression darkens. “Jimin, what did they do to you?” Hearing the
question, Jimin cries even harder in Jin’s safe embrace.
“Call Hoseok and Tae,” Jin tells the two men that have yet to move. “We need to
clean up this mess. Don’t bother Jungkook; he’s in school right now.” Namjoon
pulls out his phone as Yoongi stands behind him clenching and unclenching his
fists, seething in anger. Finally he remembers the bulge in the back of his
pants. He pulls out his handgun and walks over to the mess. He fires three
shots into the man beside the TV and three into the one on the couch. Dropping
the empty magazine onto the blood soaked carpet, Yoongi snaps in another load
of bullets and fires all of them into the man on the floor.
“Are you done?” Jin snaps, having noticed how had Jimin flinched with almost
every bullet.
Pulling the trigger a few times, Yoongi only manages to get audible clicks to
come out of the gun. “I am now.” He throws the empty weapon at the TV to
silence it, causing it to crack and fall beside the bodies. The blood splatters
onto Yoongi’s jeans and Jimin lets out a small whimper at the deafening sound.
“There’s one more in the kitchen if you wanna waste a few more bullets,”
Namjoon comments, lifting the grocery bags on the kitchen counter.
“Hyung, I’m borrowing your shotgun,” Yoongi deadpans, walking away.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
The entire ordeal had been cleaned up by the time Jungkook had gotten home from
school. Jin had helped Jimin to the bathroom so he could wash all the blood off
of him. Despite Jin’s protests, Jimin had insisted on being okay enough to
shower on his own; still his hyung had stationed himself right outside the door
to put Jimin to bed as soon as he had come out. Sitting wrapped in his blankets
for hours, Jimin had thought that he would die from the heat; regardless, he
hadn’t dared move in order to keep up the facade of an innocent boy in shock.
Around nine, Jimin receives a knock on his door. “Kid?”
“I-It’s open,” Jimin calls back in a weak voice. The door opens slowly to avoid
exposing Jimin to sudden movements that could scare him.
“Hey,” Yoongi greets him in a small voice, stepping inside Jimin’s bare room.
Jimin has never seen Yoongi look so distressed; in fact it comes as a shock to
Jimin that Yoongi can actually express emotions that aren’t aggressive or
threatening. When he had found Jimin earlier, he had on a similar expression
but not this exact one. Before, he had given off the impression of shock; but
now, he looks downright sad, like he’s feeling sympathy for Jimin. “Jin wanted
me to come check on you and to make sure that you eat dinner.” He holds up the
lunch box and chopsticks in his hand and Jimin gives him a small nod to let him
know it was okay to approach him. Yoongi hands Jimin the box, but Jimin pulls
away when his hand accidentally brushes against Yoongi’s.
“Ah, sorry,” Jimin says, wondering why he had been genuinely surprised when he
had felt the cool flesh. He extends his hand again and takes the box from
Yoongi.
“Tae already shook it up for you, so just make sure you eat it all. Even if you
feel like throwing up,” Yoongi tells him, putting the chopsticks on top of the
box on Jimin’s lap. Yoongi’s vision drifts down to the edge of the bed,
purposely avoiding look at Jimin; but Yoongi is too guilt ridden to leave the
room so soon. Jimin senses it too.
“Yoongi?” Jimin asks, “is something wrong?”
 
***** Chapter 5 *****
Shit. How can I look into those eyes and apologize to him? How the fuck am I
supposed to explain this to a kid? How do I tell him that it’s my fault that
this even happened in the first place? How do I—
“Yoongi?” Jimin repeats himself, snapping Yoongi out of his thoughts.
“I,” Yoongi starts, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
“Yoongi, you don’t need to say it,” Jimin tells him, giving him a small
reassuring smile. He opens the box and breaks apart the wooden chopsticks. “I
know.” He stuffs a large bite of rice into his mouth.
Yoongi can’t help but scoff. “What could a kid like you possibly know?” he
mutters under his breath.
“Well, I know that you’re sorry, Suga,” Jimin smirks. Yoongi’s eyes fly from
the bed to Jimin’s smug face.
“How—”
“Those men came here looking for you right?” Jimin asks for confirmation.
With a sigh Yoongi bows his head, “Yea. They did. But Suga—Suga’s been dead a
long time ago.”
“Who was he?” Jimin pries curiously.
I at least owe him the truth, right? Yoongi draws in a long breath and sighs,
allowing is shoulders to drop. “He was a pathetic, desperate kid that sold
himself to make money for his family,” Yoongi spits.
“Well how pathetic can he be if he was thinking about his family the entire
time?” Jimin counters.
“Pretty damn pathetic,” Yoongi argues.
“I think it’s pretty damn heroic for him to sacrifice himself for people he
loves,” Jimin refutes, “and for people that love him back.” Yoongi’s ears can’t
help but prick up at that last part. Although Jimin had said it with a smile on
his face, his voice had faltered just a bit.  Yoongi decides that the kid’s
gone through enough for one day and decides to rehash memories from Jimin’s
past as well as his own. He hesitantly lifts a hand and surprises both of them
by petting Jimin’s soft hair.
“Get a good night’s rest tonight, kid; you’re gonna need it,” Yoongi advises
him.
“For what?” the boy replies, as curious as a child.
“Tomorrow, I’m gonna start training you to defend yourself with more than just
your sarcastic remarks,” Yoongi answers, walking towards the door. He steps
outside and wraps his hand around the doorknob to close it but pauses. “Jimin.
I really am sorry that you had to go through that.”
“It’s okay, really Yoongi. Nothing that hasn’t happened to me before,” Jimin
forgives him a bit too easily and responds a bit too cheerily.
“Right.” is all Yoongi can manage. “See you in the morning.” He closes the door
and plunges Jimin’s room in a painful silence. Finally Jimin looks down at the
weight on his lap, realizing that he hasn’t touched the food since Yoongi had
put his hand on Jimin’s head. What was that? Jimin’s heart suddenly starts
pounding loudly in his ears.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Although Yoongi most definitely isn't a morning person and often sleeps in
later than Jimin, he stays true to his word and wakes Jimin up at 7 in the
morning the next day. He pounds on the wooden door hard enough for it to start
rattling on it's hinges. He gives the boy 5 minutes to be dressed and in the
living room, which Jimin manages to stumble into in exactly 4 minutes and 47
seconds. The place is spotless. Jimin couldn't even tell that there was a mini
bloodbath in the living room the day before; even the TV, lamp, and windows
have been replaced. Waiting at the kitchen island with the stopwatch app open
on his phone, Yoongi pours himself yet another cup of black coffee.
“Not bad, kid,” Yoongi comments, “let’s go.” He picks up his mug as well as the
entire coffeepot and walks over to the front door.
“Where are we going?” Jimin asks, helping Yoongi open the door.
“Training room.” Yoongi’s response is brisk and explains nothing to Jimin.
Still he silently follows Yoongi and the mouthwatering smell of coffee to the
elevator they all use to get up to the loft. Jimin closes the two metal gates
with a loud clatter as Yoongi takes a sip of the hot beverage. ”Pull that tape
off,” Yoongi commands him, nodding towards the to one part of the elevator's
controls that is miscolored. Jimin does as he's told and reveals a button
underneath it. He looks to Yoongi who just nods towards him, telling him to
press it; immediately the elevator rattles as it moves upwards. Jimin hadn't
even known that there was a second floor that they had access to. The cold
breeze that the elevator’s motion creates wakes Jimin up immensely, his hair
fluttering around his eyes because of it. The elevator slows to a halt before
bouncing once and coming to a complete stop. Jimin opens the gates and Yoongi
leads the way inside.
Unlike the floor downstairs, this second floor only has the four surrounding
walls, creating a completely open space. The walls are lined with guns and
weapons ready to be used. Punching bags and stand-up targets are littered
across the room. The far corner of the room that Yoongi is walking towards
houses an array of cardio machines and weights. He settles down against the
wall beside a treadmill. “Nothing like an early morning run to wake you up,
right kid?” Yoongi asks him. Jimin cocks his eyebrow, confused by how to answer
him. “If you can run 3 kilometers by the time I finish my cup of coffee I’ll
pour you some.” 3 kilometers? That's almost 2 miles! Jimin look at Yoongi
picking up the mug and unconsciously licked his lips: damn that coffee smells
so good right now.
Tempted by the drink, Jimin begrudgingly gets on the treadmill. He’s learned to
run before, but it's been awhile since he's done so recreationally. Still he
starts up the machine and starts to run, keeping an even pace and taking long
strides. He keeps his eyes darting between Yoongi and the numbers on the
treadmill telling him how far he's run. Jimin rolls his eyes, annoyed by the
situation he let himself be put in; he's in a Catch-22. If he could finish the
3 kilometers Yoongi would probably tell him that he doesn't need the coffee if
he has the energy to run that much so early since he had woken up. But if he
doesn't finish, Yoongi isn't giving him coffee. So regardless of whether or not
he actually run the 3 kilometers, Jimin isn't getting any coffee. This fucking
bastard.
Slightly more irritated than he had been when Yoongi started banging on his
door, Jimin takes hold of the treadmill’s handlebars and lifts himself off the
speeding conveyor belt, planting his feet on the sides of the machine. “I can't
do it,” Jimin lies, panting heavily. He watches Yoongi’s Adam’s apple bob as he
one-shots the remaining contents of the cup. He pours the rest of the coffee
into his mug and hands it to Jimin. “W-why? I didn't even finish.”
“You didn't finish because you thought I wasn't gonna give you any regardless,
didn't you?” Yoongi reads his mind. Hesitantly Jimin takes the mug from him and
inhales the smell of coffee. “Since you're stuck with us now, we might as well
establish a bit of trust.” Suddenly a knot forms in Jimin’s stomach. Trust.
That's not something Jimin has for anyone. He holds the mug out for Yoongi.
“You're right. I don't need this,” he says, trying to give it back.
“You sure you don't wanna try it before you say that?” Yoongi responds, raising
an eyebrow.
“Nope,” Jimin refuses, popping the word. “If there's anything left by the time
I finish maybe I’ll try it.” He places the cup by Yoongi’s outstretched leg and
gets back on the treadmill.
Yoongi finally looks up from his phone when he hears Jimin’s loud panting and
the sound of the treadmill slowing down. He looks into the cup that he'd
stopped drinking out of when there was only a sip left. He gets up and walks up
to Jimin who's bent over catching his breath and hands him the cup. “Careful,
it’s still hot.”
Jimin gulps and gives him a weak “Thanks.” He takes the mug and sips. Expecting
the black coffee to be bitter as hell, Jimin's eyes widen in surprise when he
detects faint traces of sweet.
“Good?” Yoongi asks, reading Jimin's expression.
“Mhm,” Jimin purrs, finishing the rest of it.
“Italian roast,” Yoongi tells him. “I’ll make you some next time.” Jimin wipes
his mouth with the back of his hand and gives Yoongi the mug back. When Yoongi
turns to put the mug on the floor next to the coffeepot, he notices the numbers
on the treadmill. Jimin hadn't just ran the three kilometers; he had ran six.
He glances at the boy, wondering how his legs aren't wobbling from running so
much in such a short amount of time. Instead of questioning it, Yoongi ignores
it, “Ready for some real training?” The boy swallows down another breath and
gives him a firm nod.
Yoongi leads Jimin to a punching bag in the middle of the room and stands
behind it. “Punch it,” Yoongi commands him. Jimin eyes the bag, calculating how
he should approach this situation. He clenches his fists together and raises
them to eye level. Jimin draws his right hand back and taps the bag, letting
out a slight grunt. Immediately Yoongi starts laughing. “You can’t expect me to
believe that that’s the best you can do. C’mon, kid, hit the bag with some
umph.” Jimin rolls his eyes at Yoongi’s comment and positions his fists again.
This time when he swings his fist into the bag, Jimin throws his entire body
weight into it, causing Yoongi to stutter back a step from the impact. “Better.
Not by much, but better.” For some reason, hearing Yoongi almost compliment him
makes Jimin’s heart skip a beat. What the hell? Jimin has no idea what that
feeling had been but he knows that he shouldn’t be feeling that way, especially
not about Yoongi. He’s just doing this out of guilt; he doesn’t actually care
if I can defend myself or not. I’m definitely just a burden to him. Jin
probably had to force him into teaching me. Yea, there’s no way that he would
go out of his way like this for someone like me.
“Earth to kid,” Yoongi interrupts Jimin’s thoughts, snapping his bony fingers
in front of the boy’s eyes.
“S-Sorry, whaddyou say?” Jimin asks, shaking his head to get the lingering
thoughts to disappear from his mind.
“I was in the middle of explaining to you the proper way to throw a punch,”
Yoongi tells him, sounding peeved that Jimin had zoned out. “You’re supposed
to—”
“Yoongi,” Jimin cuts him off, “I really appreciate you trying to teach me and
all, I really do, but I’d rather you didn’t. You probably have a thousand
different things that you would much rather be doing than training me right
now. So let’s just call it quits here, okay? I would hate having to owe you for
it anyway.” With that said, Jimin starts retreating from the room, distancing
himself from the threat named Yoongi.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Yoongi counters, his eyebrows knitting
together. “You think I’m doing this for my sake?”
“Just stop,” Jimin yells back, whipping around to face the older man. “I don’t
need your goddamn pity. That’s the last thing I would ever want from a person
like you.” Marching away, Jimin doesn’t realize how badly his words have stung
Yoongi. Getting into the elevator, Jimin doesn’t see Yoongi punching the sack
of sand so hard that it bursts at its seams, sending out a large puff of dust.
Stepping into the shower and turning on the stream of water, Jimin doesn’t hear
Yoongi scream out in frustration in the loneliness of the training room.
Fuck! Every time—every fucking time I try to help this brat he just goes and
shits on me. This ungrateful little asshat. I even fucking shared my fucking
coffee with this little shit. Fuck Park Jimin. He can suck my whole fucking
dick and choke on it.Yoongi growls as continues hitting the broken bag. He had
stopped giving a shit about the sand leaking out after the first three punches.
The skin on his knuckles is already starting to crack and bleed but he doesn’t
give any fucks about the pain. Driven by pure anger, Yoongi continues to
mercilessly pound the bag, imagining the bloodied and battered face of that
piece of shit that he should've killed a long time ago.
It takes another half an hour to vent out the full extent of his anger on the
abused punching bag. He finally calms down enough to leave the training room
and decides to head back to his room. Luck happens to be on his side and he
sees Jimin walking to his room wearing nothing but a pair of boxers;
immediately the bloodlust starts up again. Scanning over the scars on Jimin’s
back, Yoongi envisions the faces that Jimin must've been making when he had
gotten them. How Yoongi would love to watch Jimin writhing in pain because of
him. Jimin disappears inside his room and locks his door, allowing Yoongi to
walk by and enter his own room. He throws off his sweaty black t-shirt only to
put an identical one on; he tosses his shorts off and slips into a pair of
black ripped jeans.
Grabbing his gun and his leather jacket, Yoongi stalks out of his room and
slams the door shut loud enough for the noise to echo. Everyone had heard the
noise; even those who had been sleeping had woken up. They all understand the
warning Yoongi has given them: anyone who dares to cross the mint haired man is
getting a hand sliced off and fed to them. What nobody knows is how long Yoongi
would be enraged for; whenever something like this happens, the usually
levelheaded Yoongi becomes irrational and highly unpredictable. Any little
thing could set him off and nobody has ever had the balls to sit through the
crossfire and live to tell about it.
In the elevator, Yoongi pulls out his phone and dials a number. “Hello,
customer service. How may I help you today?”
“Tell Sehan I’m coming back to pay him a little visit. Tell him Suga’s coming
for him.”
***** Chapter 6 *****
Yoongi finds himself in a dark alleyway, with only a single street light above
the backdoor of one of the buildings. He walks up the few steps to the door and
knocks, backing up from the landing for the door to be opened. A large man
holds the door open, looking down at Yoongi with a dubious eyebrow raised.
Yoongi motions for him to bend down so Yoongi can speak into his ear. When the
man does so, Yoongi takes the man by the wrist and twists his arm behind his
back. In a swift motion, he dislocates the man’s shoulder, causing him to
scream out into the silent night. He kicks the man to his knees, still gripping
the now throbbing arm. To end the man’s suffering, Yoongi slips a knife out
from who-knows-where and slices the man’s neck open. He drags the limp body out
of the doorway and tosses him off the stairs into the pile of garbage bags.
Yoongi pulls open the rusted metal door with a loud creak. Stepping into the
familiar building, Yoongi can’t help but gag at the smell of incense and sex
wafting in the air. Recognizing Yoongi immediately, the hostess at the podium
curves her red lips up in a bright smile. “My, my, my. If it isn’t my sweet,
sweet Suga.” She steps out from behind the podium and struts towards Yoongi,
arms open to embrace him.
Before she can get too close to him, Yoongi pulls out the gun that he had kept
concealed in his waistband. “Not. Another. Step. Mei Lin.” The woman freezes in
her tracks, knowing all too well that Yoongi wouldn’t hesitate to shoot and
kill her. “Where is he?”
“I-In the back room,” Mei Lin stutters out an answer, keeping her eyes trained
on the gun pointed at her. “I c-can take you to him.” Yoongi approves with a
light nod and Mei Lin turns to lead Yoongi through the brothel. Hearing the
loud moans and squeals, Yoongi doesn’t need his imagination to figure out
what’s happening behind each of the countless closed doors they pass. Some of
the doors are even shaking on their hinges, almost like the occupants of the
neighboring rooms are competing over who can find their releases first.
“H-He’s just in here,” Mei Lin says. She knocks on the door and opens it
without waiting for a response. Watching her disappear inside, Yoongi blindly
follows her in, finger still hovering over the trigger. Entering the room,
Yoongi realizes that he’s been tricked. In the very center of the room is a
large semi-circle couch, one that Mei Lin has planted herself in the middle of.
She smirks up at Yoongi from her seat, spreading her thin arms out on the back
of the couch and throwing one of her long legs over the other. “I was so happy
when you called. I didn’t actually expect you to come.”
“What—” Yoongi stammers, aiming his weapon between his target’s large eyes.
Behind him, he hears the sudden stampede of footsteps and followed by the
sounds of guns cocking and loading.
“C’mon Suga,” the woman coos, “we’re all friends here, right? Drop the gun and
kick it to me.” Tilting his head back only slightly, Yoongi already spots five
men in his peripherals. Outnumbered and outgunned, Yoongi begrudgingly
complies, slowing squatting down to put his weapon on the floor before
straightening and tapping it towards the snake with his foot. The woman leans
forward to pick up and inspect the Glock. “Hmm, what beauty she is,” Mei Lin
purrs, rubbing the cool metal along the side of her cheek. “C’mere,” she orders
Yoongi, waving the gun towards him. When Yoongi stands over her, she barks out
another order, “On your knees.” Yoongi complies, just as he had all those years
ago. She leans forward to speak into his ear. “I want you. To fuck my pussy
with your gun,” she whispers sultrily. She nibbles at Yoongi’s earlobe and it
takes him all the willpower he has to stop himself from cringing. Disgusting.
“Your husband wouldn’t be very happy if I did that, now will he?” Yoongi
replies, knowing the only way out of this situation is to seduce the sinful
woman in front of him. He runs a gloved hand up the woman’s leg, letting his
fingertips just barely brush against the skin. Mei Lin shudders quite visibly
and Yoongi knows that he’s got her.
“I don’t see him anywhere? Do you?” she smirks, putting a hand on Yoongi’s
shoulder.
“He could show up here at anytime,” Yoongi argues, “Wouldn’t want to show him
that gorgeous O-face of yours for free would you?”
“Trust me, baby,” her eyes darken, “he’s not gonna be showing his face around
here anytime soon.” She lets her long, pink tongue dangle from her lips and
runs a long stripe of saliva up the barrell of the gun.
“How can you be so sure?” Yoongi asks, pulling her leg down so he can kneel
between them.
“He’s taking a much needed swim,” she laughs, scooching towards the edge of the
leather couch, “at the bottom of the Han River.” Yoongi’s eyes can’t help but
widen at the news.
“Since when?” Yoongi questions, genuinely curious as to when his former
employer had been killed.
“Since his men never brought you back to me,” she smiles, leaning forward to
capture Yoongi’s mouth with her own. Yoongi doesn’t kiss her back immediately,
trying to formulate his escape plan now that he had gotten most of the
information he needed. There is just one last piece that he needs and he can
slice the hag’s head off.
“Babygirl,” Yoongi starts against the needy lips of the woman, “those men at
the door are gonna get hard if we go any further. I’d rather not have to share
you with anyone.”
“You’re so right, daddy,” Mei Lin pants, pulling away for the first time. She
yells out to the men at the door in Chinese, a language Yoongi could just
barely understand. Whatever she had said causes the men to obediently file out
of the room and close the door behind them. “Where were we?” Mei Lin says,
returning her attention back to Yoongi.
“Not yet, baby,” Yoongi murmurs, his voice getting hoarse. “You’re not
presentable enough for me to eat.” Mei Lin turns and reaches behind the couch,
revealing a roll of rope she had prepared with a dark smile. “You’re so good
for me, princess.” Yoongi takes the rope from her and starts unraveling it. He
throws some rope behind her and bounds her wrists together in a tight knot, not
bothering to check whether the rope cuts off her blood circulation or not. As
he tightens it with a last tug, a small whimper escapes Mei Lin’s throat.
Yoongi takes his gun back from where she had placed it on the seat. “You want
this in you, right baby?” he teases, knowing that she would only get more
aroused by his dirty words.
“Please, daddy,” she whines, “I want you so bad.” Yoongi lets out a light
chuckle and starts to trace his gun along the side of Mei Lin’s cheek, running
down her jawline. He stops for a moment at that sensitive spot on her neck
before continuing to trail the gun down to her breasts, lightly pressing the
barrel into her hardening nipples.
Feeling the pressure of the woman’s large boob, Yoongi comments, “Hmm, no bra?
Your nipples are so hard already.”
“Only because of you, daddy.” With a smile, Yoongi leans into her breast and
takes the nipple between his teeth, biting the bud through the fabric of her
short dress. Hearing a hum of approval, Yoongi uses his free hand to pitch at
the other nipple, gently tugging and teasing the woman even more. “Daddy,” Mei
Lin pleads. This time Yoongi pulls away entirely, leaving the woman gasping
with a need for skinship.
“If you be a good girl, I’ll gladly give you what you want,” Yoongi tells her,
licking his lips.
“I’ll do anything,” she blurts out immediately, “Please daddy, I need to feel
you.” Her legs wrap around Yoongi’s torso and pulls him in closer to her.
“Can you answer a question for daddy then?” Yoongi drags the gun down the very
center of the woman’s body, stopping right between her legs. She nods
frantically, needing more stimulation. “How did you find me?”
“Someone called,” the woman sighed, rubbing herself against the gun, “said they
saw you enter a loft. Said you lived there.”
“And what did they want in return for this information?” Yoongi asked, using
his finger to flick one of her hard nipples.
“N-Nothing,” the woman moaned.
After processing this, Yoongi lets out a soft breath. “You’ve been so good for
me, babydoll. Lemme give you a nice reward.” Yoongi pulls the gun away from the
woman’s legs and fires directly between her eyes, causing her blood to splatter
all over Yoongi’s face and clothes. The body falls limp to the side of the
couch as Yoongi jumps behind it to take cover from the entering minions. As
soon as the door opens, he fires; Yoongi kills the men as they each try to step
inside the room instead of simply throwing the door open and positioning
themselves on the other side of the walls. A pile of bodies starts to build up
at the entrance of the room and the screams of frantic prostitutes fills the
hallways.
When Yoongi’s gun runs out of ammunition, he launches it at the next man
entering it the room and leaps over the couch. The gun hits the man square in
his eyes causing him to stumble back into the wall. By the time his vision
refocuses, Yoongi has a knife in his hand, stabbing the man in the neck. Before
the larger man’s body can fall, Yoongi catches his weight and holds the man to
shield his body, turning his larger automatic rifle towards the approaching
crowd of men. Yoongi aims upwards towards the heads, sending them down as they
try to charge at him. Clicking the gun, Yoongi finds the weapon out of ammo as
well.
Rather than turning his back to the enemy to pick up a weapon from the ground,
Yoongi rushes at the few men still standing. He tosses the dead body that he
had been holding at the man closest to him and uses the confusion to give the
man a quick jab to the eyes and disarms him, shooting him as soon as the gun is
positioned in Yoongi’s hand. He ducks into an open room while the remaining men
shoot aimlessly at him. When there’s a pause in the gunfire, Yoongi takes the
opportunity to run out from the room and kill the last men. Panting heavily,
Yoongi tosses the empty gun to the side of the hall and walks over the pile of
bodies towards the very back of the brothel. There, in Sehan’s private office,
he finds most of the naked prostitutes cowering in fear around the metal desk
in the room.
“Escape now or be shipped to another whorehouse,” Yoongi announces, stepping
into the room. Immediately the girls start running. Jumping to their feet as if
they still have energy left in their malnourished bodies. When they’ve all
cleared out only one girl remains, huddled in the corner of the room. “Yah,
didn’t you hear me? Leave.”
“I-I don’t have anywhere to leave to,” she shivers in the cold of the office.
Rolling his eyes at the child, Yoongi walks over to the calendar on the wall
and reveals a safe behind it. He dials the combination that he had memorized
some years back and the safe opens, revealing stacks and stacks of paper
currency. Yoongi pulls out one of the smaller stacks and tosses it at the girl,
emotionless as it hits her in the face and falls to the ground. He finds a
black duffle bag on the floor of the office and starts tossing the bricks of
money inside. When everything has been collected, Yoongi zips up the bag and
prepares to leave. To no surprise, the girl has still refused to move; she had
been watching Yoongi the entire time it had taken him to empty the safe.
It’s only when he steps out of the office that she speaks. “Wait.” For some
reason Yoongi does. “Please take me with you. I promise I’ll behave and listen
to whatever you say. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
Yoongi scoffs. “You’re seriously pathetic kid. If that’s the survival mentality
you have, you might as well pick up one of these guns and just shoot yourself
with it.” He leaves without looking back and seeing the contemplating look on
the girl’s face. It’s only when he steps of the building that he hears the
faint sound of a gun going off that Yoongi knows that the girl would never be
able to leave such a hellhole. Regardless, Yoongi remains emotionless,
adrenaline still pumping, his blood still boiling from Jimin’s words. For now
he had taken care of one threat. However the night is still young and he has a
list of hits waiting for his attention. So Yoongi takes off, hopping onto his
motorcycle with the duffle bag securely on his back. He doesn’t bother to put
on a helmet because there’s no way he would die from something as innocuous as
a car accident.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
By the time Yoongi decides it’s time to return home, he’s drenched in blood,
both liquid and dried. He walks into the loft right when the suns starts to
shine through the living room curtains. He tosses the bloodied duffle bag that
he has been carrying around all night onto the floor beside the shoe rack and
shuffles towards the bathroom. Just as he approaches the door, it’s pulled
open; Jin jumps a little surprised to see Yoongi standing on the other side.
“So you finally decided to come back?” Jin scolds him, stepping back so Yoongi
can squeeze through the doorway into the bathroom. He watches as Yoongi peels
off his black t-shirt and tosses it into the sink with wet squish. He
absentmindedly turns on the faucet to let the water rinse the blood off,
something Yoongi would’ve never done had his hyung not been standing right
there. As Yoongi works on the button and zipper of his pants, he hears Jin sigh
behind him. “How many?” Yoongi tries to count in his head how many jobs he had
taken care of that night but the number eludes him.
“Enough to buy you a new rocket launcher if you want,” Yoongi concludes.
“That’s not an answer,” Jin protests.
“It’s all you’re getting from me,” Yoongi grunts out, slipping out of his
skinny jeans.
“Did you go see Sehan?”
“Nope,” Yoongi replies, letting the syllable pop. “He’s dead. Mei Lin had him
offed before I even showed up.”
“That’s good,” Jin admits in a quiet voice. He, like many others, has never
liked Sehan; Jin has an especially strong hatred of the man after finding out
what he had made Yoongi do when he was still a minor. Jin shakes the image from
his head and turns off the faucet of the sink about the overflow. “Shower and
go to bed,” he advises Yoongi, stepping out of the bathroom and closing the
door behind him.
 
***** Chapter 7 *****
You know they’re just gonna end up dead, right? a child’s voice tells Jimin in
an eerily cheery voice. That voice alone is enough to send a chill down his
otherwise motionless spine.
You’re wrong.He retorts, knowing full well that he is speaking to a figment of
his imagination. But her voice—her presence—in his mind is so dominating that
she feels real and his blood can't help but boil.
You killed your own family. What’s stopping you from killing them too? she
cackles. God, Jimin hates her for what she did to him—for what she’s still
capable of doing to even from the grave.
“Yah, brat,” a deeper voice calls him. “Brat.” A hand touches his shoulder and
his eyes flutter open as he flinches. “Wake the fuck up,” Yoongi tells him in a
harsh whisper. Jimin rolls over in bed to face the man hunched over him.
“Why did you wake me up?” Jimin mumbles, rubbing an eye with the back of his
hand. Out of the corner of his eye he can see the digital clock on his
nightstand shining the numbers “3:48” in a dull neon green.
“I was walking by your room when I heard a noise,” he explains. “And found that
you’ve thrown a fucking knife at the door in your sleep.” Up until he says
that, Jimin hasn’t realized how tightly the hand under his pillow had been
gripping the knife identical to the one lodged in the frame of the door.
Jimin groans in frustration and embarrassment. “Sorry,” he tells the older man.
“Where the fuck did you even get the knife from?” Yoongi asks in an angry
whisper.
“Hoseok hyung and Namjoon hyung have been training me haven’t they?” Jimin
responds, answering Yoongi’s question with another question, too drowsy to
fabricate a lie.
“This is the third night I’ve found you like this,” he says. “Once, I can live
with. Twice, not a big deal. But three times is plain annoying. Especially when
it keeps happening when I'm going to bed. So I’m not leaving here with a half
assed apology and no explanation.”
“Oh no. I’m so sorry for disturbing your precious beauty sleep, Your Highness,”
Jimin comments, making sure Yoongi can hear the sarcasm in his tone. “Better?”
“Not by a long shot,” Yoongi sneers.
“You can sleep in here for all I care,” Jimin mutters, rolling back over to his
other side. “I’m going back to sleep.”
“Jimin.” His voice comes out more serious this time, more commanding.
“Just when I thought I was just a brat to you. Glad to hear the princess
actually know my name,” Jimin remarks.
“Seriously?” Yoongi snaps, exasperated by the boy’s childish games.
“Just leave me alone already.” He tries to pull his blanket over his head;
Yoongi fights against him and pulls the entire comforter off and away from the
boy.
“Jimin,” he repeats. This time, instead of responding verbally, Jimin flips him
off, resulting in a rather disappointed tisk. “Fine. Fuck it. I’m too old and
too tired to be to dealing with your bullshit anyway. See if I care.” Jimin
hears his blanket land beside him. Still pouting on the bed, Jimin's too proud
to cover himself back up with the warm blanket until after his hyung leaves. He
hears the door creaking, expecting it to slam shut at any moment. What he gets
instead is a quick breeze by his hair and loud thud after Yoongi throws his
knife back at him.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Jimin shouts, sitting up in his bed. He
doesn't need to look down to know that the blade is lodged into his headboard,
less than a centimeter from where his head had been.
“Some obnoxious, orange-haired brat that I should've killed a long time ago
won't leave me and my family the fuck alone,” Yoongi retorts, slamming the
bedroom door shut. Sitting on his bed in the dark, Jimin can still hear the
sound of the wooden door slamming resonating in his ears. Suddenly feeling the
urge to sniffle, Jimin doesn't notice the tears pooling in his eyes. Sure Jimin
acts tough on the outside—and he more or less is—but inside Jimin is broken,
shattered into a million different pieces. After being accepted by BTS, Jimin
had thought that it would be possible for him to put himself back together
again, despite not fully trusting the boys around him. He thought that he could
at least act normal for now—act like he was okay. But for some reason that he
can't explain, Yoongi is always there to make sure he can't become whole
inside, constantly making sure that Jimin can't be happy even for a short
delusion.
The tears slip from his eyes, leaving a trail as they quickly run down the
sides of Jimin's cheeks. He hasn't cried in a long while; there hasn't been
reason to. So why is he crying over the words of just another person who wanted
to see his ultimate failure and destruction? He lifts a hand to wipe the water
from his face, realizing that his hand is still very much clenched around the
hilt of the knife. Even after Yoongi has gone—after the threat has been
neutralized.
For now.
How easy would it have been to just—
Stop. I don’t want to hear this.
Jimin finally lets go of the blade, throwing it into the wood of his dresser.
He left himself wide open for you. A simple swing of the arm and you could’ve
stabbed his jugular. Look at how pathetic you’ve become. He removes the knife
from the headboard to stab it into his nightstand as he drops back onto the
mattress. First you couldn't eliminate such an easy target and now you're
crying about it. What a joke you are.With his hands free, he folds his pillow
tight around his ears, willing himself to fall asleep despite the booming voice
in his head.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“So, how’s the brat’s training going,” Yoongi asks Hoseok as casually as he can
while sipping his steaming cup of coffee. After another restless night, he had
waited for Hoseok and Jimin to return from training upstairs to properly
question Hoseok while Jimin takes his time in the shower.
“Hmm?” Hoseok initially responds. His eyebrows raise, not sure if he'd heard
Yoongi correctly. “And to think you weren't the slightest bit interested in
him.”
“Your words or his?”
“More like your demonstrated disposition towards the kid.”
“Well I'm not; I'm just trying to be cautious. There's still a lot we don't
know about him. There’s something about that smug look of his that none of us
should trust.”
“Is it because he refuses to address you as his hyung?” Hoseok teases, wiggling
his eyebrows.
“That's not the point,” Yoongi growls, annoyed by his dongsaeng’s insistence of
joking around during a serious conversation.
“Relax, hyung,” Hoseok chuckles, patting the shorter man’s shoulder. “He's
doing fine—great even. Aside from Jungkook I've never seen someone progress
that quickly. And it's only been about two weeks since Jonnie and I’ve started
working with him.”
“That good, huh?” Hoseok responds with a quick nod. “How is he with knives?”
Hoseok stops pointing at his eggs and blinks at Yoongi for a moment, surprised
at the random question. “No idea. As far as I know, neither Jonnie or I have
started teaching him to use knives.”
“Really?” Yoongi deadpans, drinking his coffee. So where'd that knife come
from?
“Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering,” Yoongi shrugs as Tae shuffles into the kitchen, the dark hair
in a mess as usual.
“Morning,” he mumbles.
“Morning,” Hoseok smiles brightly at the same time Yoongi grunts out some type
of greeting.
“Is there breakfast?” Tae asks, scratching the back of his head.
“Yup, Jin-hyung made eggs before heading out this morning,” Hoseok tells him,
finishing off his own and opening one of the cupboards to get Tae a plate.
Meanwhile, Tae shuffles around the kitchen island to the stovetop. He grabs the
spatula hanging from a shelf and starts scooping at the eggs. Not a moment
later does Yoongi’s fingers appear in his vision, snapping impatiently at him.
“Tae,” Yoongi’s voice sounds distant in the boy’s ears.
“Hmm?” Tae turns his head and looks at his hyung, not realizing that his eyes
are barely open.
“You’re trying to scoop at nothing,” Hoseok laughs, pointing down at the stove.
Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Tae looks down and realizes that he isn’t
standing in front of the stovetop with the pan of eggs in them. Embarrassed,
Tae snaps out of his trance as he feels heat rushing to his cheeks.
“Long night?” Yoongi chuckles, passing him a cup of coffee.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Tae mutters, gulping down the scalding hot
beverage. “Who the fuck orders delivery food at 4 in the morning?” He finishes
off the drink and slams the porcelain mug down on the counter.
“Damn,” Yoongi says, not a hint of sympathy in his voice, “did you at least get
a good tip?”
“Hell fucking no,” Tae curses, “this douchebag of a living being had the
audacity to tell me that I forgot his drink when he clearly didn’t order one.
He tried to make me give him the food for free and threatened to call my
manager.”
“That’s hilarious,” Hoseok chimes in, “What’d you do?”
Hearing the question, Tae stops scooping eggs onto his plate and turns to face
his hyungs with a wicked smile. “I told him that if he didn’t hand over
everything in his wallet, I would slice his balls off and feed them to him.
Dude didn’t believe me until I pulled out the knife. Then he pissed himself.”
The three of them burst into jovial laughter, stopping only when Jimin walks
into the room with a towel over his hair. Immediately Yoongi finishes his drink
and storms out of the kitchen, bumping his sharp shoulder into Jimin’s as he
exits.
“What’d I miss?” Jimin questions ever so innocently. He'd woken up this morning
with his eyes a little puffy from having cried before going to bed. Hoseok
hadn't questioned it during their early morning training session. But after the
refreshing shower, Jimin’s mood had become a lot more chipper; at least it had
been until Yoongi had decided to bodycheck him.
“Tae was just telling us about his late night adventures as a food delivery
man,” Hoseok tells him, ignoring the tension Yoongi has created by leaving in a
huff.
“Do you want eggs?” Tae asks.
“Just one please,” Jimin responds, having slowly adjusted to eating on a normal
schedule—courtesy of Jin’s constant nagging and daily reminders. He says a
quick thanks to Tae when he puts a plate down in front of him. “It's been
getting warmer lately, hasn't it?” Jimin tries to make conversation. “Do you
think we could go jogging one of these mornings?” Jimin’s request starts out as
completely genuine; being kept indoors for almost a month can make bore a guy’s
brain out. Thinking about the innocent question some more, Jimin's head starts
to fill with the possibilities he could have if he was allowed to go outside on
his own. How many places he could visit like a normal person. How many amazing
foods he could eat. How many scores he could settle.
“You know I’d love to,” Hoseok starts, “but I don't know if it’d be safe for
you to be outside so soon.”
“Please, hyung?” Jimin pleads. More determined now than ever to get outdoor
privileges, he puts on his best puppy dog face—the one where his plump lips
come together in a tight pout and his eyes open up wider than they usually go.
“I’ll discuss it with Joonie and Jin-hyung when they get home,” Hoseok finally
concedes.
“Yay,” Jimin leaps out of his stool at the kitchen island. “You're the best,
hyung.” Hoseok looks at the boy wearing the biggest smile on his face. For
once, he almost looks genuinely happy and Hoseok couldn't help but wonder what
kind of face Jimin would wear if he really does find happiness.
He, like everyone else, has assumed that Jimin's life has been far from
perfect. None of their lives are; but even through the darkest times, the six
of them have had each other. Who did Jimin have to look out for him? Or has he
just been on his own this entire time—completely and utterly alone in this
cruel world? The six of them can't possibly know and are smart enough to know
not to pry into Jimin's life unless the boy himself is ready to open up to
them. Still, it hurts Hoseok a little on the inside when he sees Jimin smiling
without any real happiness behind it. But Yoongi-hyung, like always, is right;
he shouldn't be warming up to someone he knows so little about. Hoseok has had
to learn that the hard way some years back. No matter how much Hoseok wants to
trust Jimin, he can't let the boy into his life until he knows the whole truth.
That’s why he and Namjoon have been holding back on Jimin’s training, unsure if
the boy would ever turn around and use it against them. One thing he does know
for sure is that Yoongi is definitely thinking about the boy a lot more than he
lets on.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Jungkook throws his pencil down for the eighth time tonight and curses in
frustration. How could he—the prodigy, the Golden Maknae—be able to hack into
multiple government systems but get tripped up every time he looks at his
calculus homework? Namjoon is probably asleep by now so he can’t be of much
help to Jungkook. His hyung has forbidden him from doing any work related to
investigating the men that had invaded their home three weeks ago until he
finishes all his work.
Everyone's been busy doing something remotely productive while Jungkook’s been
stuck in front of this desk. A week back, Yoongi had been on a pretty nasty
killing spree since that whole incident; what is truly lethal, however, is his
ice cold shoulder to Jimin. Because of the sadist that Yoongi is, Tae and Hobi
have been busy cleaning up Yoongi’s murders and crime scenes, covering up every
last piece of evidence that could possibly be found and linked back to them.
Not to mention both of them have their part time job at the coffee shop. Along
with Hobi, Namjoon has apparently  taken over training Jimin in place of Yoongi
at Jin’s request because Lord knows Namjoon can't say no to Jin.
Just recently though, he had overheard his hyungs talking. Apparently, Jimin’s
improved so much in such a small amount of time that he’s being allowed to go
outside on his own for up to an hour every day. Everyone, even the newbie, has
their assignments. Meanwhile Jungkook has had so much schoolwork these last few
weeks that he hasn’t even gotten a chance to look at the surveillance footage
of what happened to Jimin.
His eyes drifting from clock on his desk, Jungkook shoots a quick glance over
at his computer system. Hyung should be asleep by now. He wouldn’t know if I
just took a peek, right? Cautiously and silently, Jungkook wheels himself to
the other side of his room to the desk with three monitors on it. He wakes up
his sleeping computer, puts on his headphones, and opens the Files window.
Immediately, a loud ringing starts echoing in his ears; startled by the abrupt
noise, Jungkook yanks the headphones down around his neck. In the very center
of the screen is a pop-up, telling Jungkook that Namjoon’s Skyping him. Before
he can move the mouse to press “Decline Call”, the call is answered for him and
an image of Namjoon enlarges on his monitors.
Carefully Jungkook puts his headphones back on. “H-hyung, you scared me,” he
says, acting innocent.
“I know, I saw,” Namjoon chuckles. “What are you doing on your computer
anyway?”
“Um, I was just,” Jungkook stutters, trying to think of a plausible lie. “I was
just searching up how to do one of my homework problems.”
“If you needed help, you could’ve just asked me,” Namjoon replies. Seeing him
shift from his bed, Jungkook quickly closes the Files window and opens up a tab
on Google Chrome. Seconds later, Jungkook’s bedroom door slams open, the
doorknob hitting the wall with a very loud echo. Namjoon stands in the doorway
with his laptop in hand. His hyung ends the Skype call, closes his laptop, and
throws it onto Jungkook’s bed, causing it bounce and almost fall off. Namjoon
walks over to Jungkook; before the maknae can protest, Namjoon is already
wheeling him and his seat back over to the hell he calls calculus. The two of
them work until the very early morning, acting like Namjoon actually believed
Jungkook's lie about searching up help online.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
After another long day of classes, Jungkook shoves his earbuds in and turns the
volume of his music all the way up in order to ignore the many girls trying to
approach him. Despite being a world class killer, the one thing in the world he
can’t fend off is women. He lazily makes his way to the bus stop, knowing that
it'd be arriving late despite the time tables. When the bus finally shows up, a
man bumps into his back on his way inside the vehicle. Jungkook could've turned
around and snapped the man's neck right then and there. But his controlled,
quiet personality prevents him from doing so. Instead he just ignores the bump
and finds a seat in the back of the bus and puts his feet up on the seat beside
his.
Jungkook almost falls asleep on the bus when it finally pulls up at his stop.
Rubbing his tired eyes with the back of one hand, he throws his school bag over
his shoulder with the other. He steps off the bus, quickly moving further onto
to sidewalk after having sensed the person getting off behind him standing a
bit too close. He takes out his phone and shoots a quick text to the group chat
to let them know that he'd be back in a few short minutes.
From the bus stop, only three blocks separated him from the comfort of his bed.
Out of habit, Jungkook pulls one earbud out and dangles it over his ear before
walking. He takes large strides with his long legs, traveling impatiently fast
towards the loft.
“Hey, kid,” he hears a gruff voice call in his direction. Assuming the voice
hadn’t been directed at him, he continues walking, crossing the street to the
second block.
In his mind he begins mapping out the remainder of his day and the entirety of
his coming weekend. First he would go home and shower. Then, he would do all of
his homework by dinner. After dinner, he would finally review the surveillance
footage, probably resulting in an all nighter. Over the weekend, he would be
inspecting the van the dead men left behind. In his mind, he continuously
repeats his schedule over and over again thinking about the perfection of the
timing. Just thinking about it makes his fingertips tingle.
“Hey, kid. I'm talking to you.” This time, Jungkook picks up his head to see
who the man could be talking to. That's when he realizes that there's no one
else in sight but him. Still, he knows not to stop for strangers regardless of
whether Jungkook could kill them or not.
“Yah,” the man's accent comes out, “ignore me again and I'll shoot you in the
leg so you can never walk again.” Jungkook freezes. There's too much of a
distance between them that Jungkook can't attack the man without getting shot.
“That's a good boy,” the man comments, “now turn around slowly, hands in the
air.”
Jungkook looks back at the half a block left between his home and where he
stands and reluctantly lets his schoolbag slip to the sidewalk with a loud
thud. A small razor discretely slips out from the sleeve of Jungkook’s uniform.
Despite being the primary tech guy, Jungkook is actually incredibly skilled at
combat and using weapons, having been a prodigy when he had been first taught
these types of things. However, Jin had forbidden Jungkook from carrying
weapons when he goes to school so the razor is the one thing he has on him that
can be of use. He holds one of the corners between the his index and middle
fingers, keeping the blade concealed from the man when his lifts his hands with
his palms facing out.
The man in front of him is surprisingly shorter than him and balding. His face
looks disheveled and hasn't been shaved for quite some time. The stout man has
his hand in the jacket of his varsity jacket, a thick object protruding in his
direction. Seeing as the man hasn't shown the gun, Jungkook knows there's an
off-chance that he's only bluffing; still he'd rather not risk his life over a
probability.
“Toss whatever you have over here,” the man orders. Having no wallet or any
type of currency on him, Jungkook reluctantly pulls out his phone, yanking the
earbud out of his ear, and tosses his baby to the man. He keeps that one hand
in his pocket and uses the other to catch the device, the wire of the earbuds
dangling. The man examines the newest model of the phone in his hand before his
face scrunches up in a scowl and he tosses it aside angrily. “That's obviously
not what I meant,” he man growls. That phone costs more than Jungkook has ever
been cut in from the jobs; what else could the man possibly want?
“I-I don't have any money, sir,” Jungkook tells him, shakily.
“You think I give a shit about the money?” the man yells back. “Stop wasting my
goddamn time and just gimme everything you have.”
“I-I really don't know what you mean,” Jungkook replies, genuinely perplexed by
the man's line of demands.
“Do you really think I'm that stupid?” the man shouts. “Stop wasting my time
and just give me the fucking drugs.” Drugs?Jungkook, wearing a bright school
uniform, standing next to a large school bag, tries to figure why the man would
think he was a dealer.
“I don't have any. I’m not—,” Jungkook tries to explain.
“Kid, you're really starting to piss me off,” the man interrupts. He pulls his
hand out of his pocket, producing a black pistol for Jungkook’s eyes to widen
at. “Just gimme the drugs.” With a clear target, Jungkook flicks his wrist just
slightly and launches the razor.
He sees the blade get logged into the man's hand; but for some reason, he seems
to be the one feeling the pain. His breath has been knocked out of him and his
shoulder feels like it's on fire as he collapses to the ground. Suddenly the
man is standing above him, dumping out the contents of his school bag. He's
shouting something Jungkook can't quite make out—cursing maybe? In a certain
dialect? Jungkook doesn't get a chance to figure it out before the man turns to
him and kicks him in the ribs, hard. That same booted foot then moves to the
open wound. 
“Where is it?” the man screams, pushing his weight down onto Jungkook's
bleeding shoulder. No matter how much training Jungkook's had, he can't help
but scream out from the pain. His loud cry in agony gets overlapped by a more
aggressive voice. Then the man's foot is gone; he’s running away, his footsteps
retreating as fast as they can.
Overwhelmed by the pain he doesn't see the blur of orange when Jimin runs by
and chases after the man at full speed. He doesn't hear the car pull up onto
the curb. He doesn't recognize Tae throwing himself out from the passenger side
to hold him in his arms. Instead he just instinctively clutches his shoulder in
pain, only to find Tae's warm hand already there. Unlike Jungkook's own, Tae's
hand is shaking while it presses down onto Jungkook. Despite the pain, Jungkook
feels a warmth in the pit of his stomach, having found comfort in knowing that
Tae is the one holding him.
Together their hands are getting dyed red—Jungkook's favorite color. After a
while of listening to Tae's sobbing and a loud yelling in the distance,
Jungkook's ears start going fuzzy and the sounds start to echo. His vision gets
blurry, making Tae's heartbreaking expression nothing more than a mosaic.
Before long, the pain becomes too intense and his eyes start to drift close,
cutting off Jungkook's close up image of his beautiful, crying hyung.
Chapter End Notes
     Thanks for 100+ kudos! Sorry this chapter's kinda short compared to
     the others. Hope you enjoy.
***** Chapter 9 *****
Jimin had seen it happen. He had gotten the notification of Jungkook's text
letting everyone know he’d just gotten off the bus. Bored out of his mind,
Jimin had decided to sit by the window and throw a bucket of water on the
maknae when he returns. Instead, he had seen the youngest boy getting stopped
by a man across the street. When he had seen the gun, he had jumped off the
sofa and had ran to the stairs, time having been too critical to wait for the
lift. When he had pushed the door open, he heard the gunshot. His legs don't
stop running when he sees the man stepping on the source of Jungkook’s blood
loss, a red stain already appearing on the back shoulder of his uniform. The
gun is on the ground, surrounded by the contents of Jungkook's school bag.
“Get away from him,” Jimin yells, revealing his presence to the man. Of course
the man starts running, leaving red footprints on the pavement.  Jimin hates
chasing people down because it’d be a hassle to walk all the way back, tired
and out of breath; but at least now Jungkook’s wound isn't being aggravated by
the man’s boot anymore. Driven on anger caused by seeing the boy writhing in
pain on the ground, Jimin's legs start to accelerate as he passes Jungkook.
Quick on his feet, Jimin is gaining on the man, closing the gap between them at
an incredible speed. With a final burst, Jimin throws his entire weight onto
the man’s legs and tackles him right at the end of the block.
“Who are you?” Jimin demands, holding the sweating man up by the collar of his
jacket.
“Please,” the man begs, “I didn't mean to shoot him.”
“Like hell you didn't,” Jimin snarls, sending his clenched fist straight into
the blubbering man's face. The hit draws blood immediately.
“Who. Are you,” Jimin asks again, shaking the man.
“I just-just needed a fix,” the man cries, “they said that I could find someone
here with what I need. They told me that the gun wasn’t loaded.”
“Right. Just like you didn't mean to make him bleed more by stepping on him.
You lowlife piece of shit,” Jimin spits, punching the man again, “you shot him
over fucking drugs.” His punches start coming quicker, harder. Lost in pounding
the man's face into a pulp, Jimin’s hands are dyed in a red as vibrant as the
color of his hair. “Who the fuck sent you here,” Jimin growls.
“A m-man,” the man pants out, “He-he never gave me his name.”
“What did he look like?” Jimin shakes the man in frustration. Who the fuck
takes a loaded gun from some whose name they don’t even know?
“He-He was tall,” the man gulps. “He had a scar over his right eye. Or wa-was
it the left? Please, I-I don’t remember. He found me when I was high.” The
man’s whimper gets drowned out by the screeching wheels of a car. Behind him,
Jimin can hear Tae’s screaming for Jungkook, his voice cracking as he pleads
for Jungkook to stay awake. Hearing the happy-go-lucky younger man sobbing
causes something in Jimin to snap. He raises his fist again and resumes his
beating of the useless waste of a human being.
“Jimin,” Hoseok’s voice is lost in the background. “Jimin! Stop!” He grabs a
hold of Jimin's bloodstained hand and twists it around behind his back to
restrain him. Even then, Jimin's white-knuckled grip on the man's collar
doesn't loosen. The younger boy is panting hard, catching his breath for the
first time.
“Hyung let me go,” Jimin snaps, his voice ice cold. His eyes are hooded and his
teeth are clenched together.
“Jimin, that’s enough,” Hoseok talks into his ear. “You already knocked him
out; he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.” Hearing this, Jimin looks down at
the man; he hadn’t realized that the man was unconscious.
Go on; finish him. It’s what you do best, right? The voice in his head sends a
painful chill down Jimin’s spine. Trembling, Jimin lets go of the man’s collar
and Hoseok lets go of Jimin.
“Hyung!” Tae calls to them, his voice making him sound like he was breaking. In
fact, Tae is breaking. Jungkook—his Kookie—is hurt, bleeding. God, there’s so
much blood. Why won’t it stop? It has to stop. Please make it stop. What are
Jimin and Hoseok doing? Tae can’t lift the large maknae by himself. He holds
Jungkook’s head in his lap, cradling the boy’s limp body. Even the hand that
Jungkook had placed over his had fallen off when his eyes closed. Crying into
Jungkook’s hair, he doesn’t see Jimin returning from the other end of the
block; he only notices when he feels Jungkook shifting in his arms. For a
moment, he perks up; maybe the boy’s waking up. To his disappointment, Jungkook
moves only because Jimin is holding his legs.
Making eye contact with the older boy, Tae hyung nods, blinking the tears out
of his eyes. He hooks his arms under Jungkook’s armpits and hoists him up with
the help of Jimin. The two of them clumsily carry Jungkook into the loft and
lay him down on the bathroom floor.
“Jimin,” Tae squeaks, his eyes tearing up when he sees the pool of blood
beginning to form at their feet. “He hasn’t stopped bleeding.” Jimin walks over
to him and grabs the back of Tae’s neck to lean the younger’s head down on his
shoulder. “Why won’t he stop bleeding?” Tae sobs.
“Shh, shh,” Jimin coos, rubbing the back of Tae’s neck with his thumb. “It’s
okay; he’ll be okay. It's barely a flesh wound. He passed out because that
bastard was stepping on him.” Suddenly, the sound of the front door slamming
echoes around the loft.
“Where is he?” a very angry, very concerned voice asks.
“Bathroom,” Jimin calls back, tilting his head back so he doesn't yell right
into Tae’s ear. Moments later, Jin arrives at the bathroom doorway.
“Oh my god,” he gasps, seeing the boys covered in Jungkook's blood.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ultimately Jimin had been right about the flesh wound; the bullet had grazed
Jungkook’s arm pretty badly and if it hadn't been for the man he would've been
awake while Jin stitched him up. Around dinner time, Jimin and Namjoon have to
pry Tae away from Jungkook's bedside so that Tae wouldn't stay up all night
without eating. For twenty minutes, everyone sits in silence watching Tae
miserably pick at his food.
“So whaddyou do with the bastard that shot him?” Yoongi asks, finally breaking
the uncomfortable silence.
“Well after the beating he got from Jimin, I dragged him upstairs; he's tied up
ready for target practice after dinner,” Hoseok smiles, calm as ever, “we're
finally gonna start teaching Jimin how to use knives.”
“Make sure you leave him alive enough for me to finish him off,” Tae mutters
dejectedly, keeping his eyes glued to his plate. If he was to look up, he'd be
met with an empty seat directly across from him—Jungkook’s empty seat.
“Me too hyung,” a melodious voice chimes in. Only one person calls Tae “hyung”.
Everyone turns towards the source of the voice to see Jungkook sleepily
shuffling over to the dinner table. Immediately Jin gets out of his seat to
fetch Jungkook a plate. Tae, however, still doesn't look up from his food,
thinking that he's just hearing things. Even after Jungkook's settled in his
seat, Tae ignores him and his voice in the conversations. After the initial
greetings and laments about Jungkook's newest scar, the dinner table becomes
lively with conversation.
“Tae?” Jungkook looks at his hyung in concern. Still hell bent on the fact that
he's going crazy, Tae starts shoving food into his mouth as fast as he can so
he can go back to his Kookie’s side. “Tae.” Jungkook repeats. This time
Jungkook makes sure to get his attention by reaching his hand out to touch his
hyung’s shaking one. That's when he finally lifts his head to see the maknae.
Tae doesn't remember when he had started crying but his cheeks are wet and
there's something cold dripping off his chin. He's pretty sure there's mucus
hanging from his nose too, but he doesn't care right now. His Kookie is okay.
Jungkook manages to pry the chopsticks out of Tae's death grip and takes a hold
of his hand. He excuses themselves from the table and leads the crying hyung
back into his room. Embarrassed, Tae tries to hide his face in the forearm of
his free hand, failing to acknowledge the knot beginning to form in his
stomach.
Jungkook easily pulls Tae into his room and closes the door behind them only to
gently pin Tae against the wood. Still Tae’s crying doesn't cease. He's shaking
and blubbering like a child in front of Jungkook who has since placed an arm on
the wood over Tae's head. “Tae, will you look at me?” He slowly lifts his other
hand and drags his thumb over the sharpest parts of Tae's jawline. He stops at
the older boy’s wet chin and holds it between his thumb and the rest of his
hand. Seeing Tae being adamant about keeping his face down and unseen, Jungkook
starts to tip Tae's head back so the hyung would be forced to look at him.
When Tae's eyes finally meet the softness of Jungkook’s, Tae's knees go weak
and he drops towards the floor. Good thing for him, Jungkook's still as quick
to react as ever and catches Tae by the waist. Together the two of them lower
to the floor until Tae’s knees are pulled tightly against his chest so he can
bury his face in them and Jungkook has to sit with his legs open around Tae's
smaller frame. Jungkook decides to take hold of Tae's wrists so he can't hide
from him anymore. Stubborn Tae just turns his head to the side and continues to
let the tears flow. “Hyungie, please look at me,” Jungkook begs using the best
aegyo he can conjure up. “Look at your Kookie. He's 100% okay.”
When Tae starts shaking, Jungkook starts to panic, thinking he did something to
upset Tae even more. It's not until Tae lifts his face a little for air that
Jungkook realizes that Tae had stopped crying and had started laughing. “You’re
aegyo voice is so cute,” Tae laughs, speaking to the maknae for the first time
that night. Seeing Tae's mood completely change, Jungkook makes the mistake of
letting go of Tae's wrists; as soon as his hands are free Tae starts pinching
at Jungkook's cheeks.
“Hyung, cut it out,” Jungkook squeals, backing out of Tae's reach. This only
encourages Tae even more and he immediately pounces onto Jungkook, aiming for
those cute cheeks of his. Jungkook lets Tae get the upper hand and does little
to resist when Tae starts pinching both of his cheeks. “Hyung,” Jungkook
whines.
“I'll only stop on one condition,” Tae starts, “never show your aegyo to anyone
but
 me.” With such an easy condition, Jungkook doesn't hesitate to agree. Tae
can't help but laugh at the maknae’s sudden eagerness; with a smile Tae tilts
his head down and kisses Jungkook on his bare forehead.
“Also,” Tae continues in a soft whisper with his lips against Jungkook's
forehead, “promise me that you'll never scare me like that again.”
“I swear I won’t.”
“Good boy,” Tae sighs in relief, letting go of Jungkook's pinchable cheeks. Tae
plants a hand on the ground beside the boy to push himself back up but Jungkook
grabs his arm and stops him.
“Hyung.” Jungkook's eyes hesitantly wander down to the bulges between their
legs that they hadn't even felt forming.
“Does this mean—?” Tae asks, making sure they’re both on the right page. This
time it's Jungkook's turn to be embarrassed. His cheeks flush, turning even
more red than they had gotten from Tae’s thin fingers pinching; he turns his
head to the side to avoid Tae's searing gaze when he does a quick nod of
confirmation. Immediately a smile spread across Tae’s face; he leans down
towards Jungkook and starts planting kisses along his jaw..
“Kookie,” Tae murmurs in a low voice. When he reaches the corner of Jungkook's
lips the boy finally turns his head back. There’s a short pause allowing them
to really savor the moment of staring each other in the eyes. Tae breaks the
eye contact first by glancing down at Jungkook's lips. Slowly, he dips his head
further down, occasionally glancing at the anticipating boy’s expression.
When their lips finally connect, Tae swears that he could feel sparks
flying—like a grand display of fireworks just going off within his body. He
starts using his tongue to test the boy as the kiss gets deeper. Jungkook
figures out that his hyung wants entrance and grants it to him by parting his
lips. Tae's tongue slips in with a certain finesse, tangling with Jungkook's
less experienced one, but dancing around all the same.
An eternity later, the two of them separate panting for air. “Can we move to
the bed?” Tae asks with a seductive smirk on his face. Jungkook does a quick
nod, still out of breath from his first kiss (kisses?) with the man he’s been
in love with. Tae lifts himself off Jungkook, grabbing his hand to pull the boy
up at the same time. He leads the way over to the bed, letting go of Jungkook
only when he plops himself down onto the mattress.
Jungkook climbs on top shortly after, settling comfortable between Tae's legs;
it’s his turn to pamper his hyung. His lips collide with Tae’s leaving no room
for teasing like his hyung had done. Tae had taken the lead before so Jungkook
couldn't allow his patent-pending techniques outshine Tae's. He nibbles as
Tae's lower lip hungrily, getting only more turned on by the dangerously sexy
expression Tae doesn't realize he's making.
Encouraged by Tae's soft moans, Jungkook's lips begin to travel lower. His
smooth hands run themselves up Tae's body under his shirts, stopping only to
tease his hardening nipples with the pads of his thumbs. Tae feels the heat
coming from Jungkook and suddenly his t-shirt has become too restrictive.
Reading his mind, Jungkook strips Tae's shirt from his body and tosses it
somewhere. With full access, Jungkook makes his way down Tae's skin kissing and
biting every inch of him. The maknae’s skillful hands stop teasing Tae's
nipple, earning him a soft whine. He lets out a light chuckle against Tae's
navel, sending small vibrations up the older’s spine; Jungkook uses his hands
to unbutton Tae’s jeans.
Jungkook slips Tae's pants and boxers off in one swipe, allowing Tae's erection
to spring free. Already wet with precum, Tae’s dick twitches in need of some
serious stimulation—which Jungkook gives him in the form of a quick flick of
his tongue over his tip. Tae can't help but arch his back off the mattress,
desperate to feel Jungkook even more.
“Patience, hyung,” Jungkook hovers over Tae with a mischievous look, “first we
need to get you ready.” He places his fingers onto Tae's swollen lips. “Lick.”
Tae doesn't have to be told twice, much less once. He engulfs the entire length
of Jungkook's middle and index fingers, using his tongue to lather them up in
saliva. The initial taste of Jungkook's fingers is salty; but after a moment,
the only this Tae can taste is Jungkook himself. He's slight disappointed when
Jungkook pulls his hand away, leaving Tae's mouth empty and wet.
Jungkook leans forward over Tae while bringing his hand down. “Inhale for me?”
As soon as Tae complies, the first finger enters and Jungkook captures Tae’s
moan in a hard kiss. He waits until Tae becomes adjusted to the intrusion
before pumping his finger in and out of Tae's hole, softening the walls inside.
When Tae’s ready for it, Jungkook slides in the second finger, slowly
scissoring Tae's ass open. Feeling his hyung’s body relaxing, Jungkook starts
looking for that one spot that he knows would make Tae start seeing stars. All
the while, Jungkook starts stimulating Tae's nipples, sucking on one of them
while massaging the other. Tae, feeling an immense amount of pleasure takes a
hold of Jungkook's hair, pulling it every so often.
When Tae releases a moan louder than any that he's made that night, Jungkook
knows he's found his spot. Pressing on it a few more times with his fingers,
Jungkook can feel his own erection painfully throbbing against his shorts. He
lets go of Tae’s pink nipple and takes off his own clothes. “Pass me a condom,”
Jungkook asks Tae, nodding at the nightstand while pumping his own erection.
“Forget the condom,” Tae breathes, shaking his sweaty head. He wraps his legs
around Jungkook's back. “I want to feel you inside of me,” he pants out.
Hearing the go ahead to do it bareback, Jungkook stops pumping and lines
himself up with Tae's pulsing hole.
“Deep breath,” Jungkook tells him, once again leaning down ready to kiss Tae to
silence his moans. Tae wraps his arms around Jungkook and pulls him in closer,
careful not to aggravate the bullet wound that Jin had stitched up. He inhales
and suddenly Jungkook is inside him. Like a gentleman, Jungkook goes slowly,
inching in in sync with Tae's breathing; he stops completely when he's all the
way inside, allowing the man under him to get used to his length and girth.
Tae's had sex with guys before, but never has he felt as full as he does in
this moment when the boy he loves is the one fucking—no—making love to him. “J-
Jungkook,” Tae stutters, getting the attention of the boy busy kissing that
sensitive spot on Tae's collarbone.
“Hmm?” Jungkook responds, lost in marking Tae's flawless skin. Tae pouts; while
it’s hot as hell having Jungkook filling him up, Tae needs more stimulation
than that—his body is begging for it. He decides that it's his turn to take the
lead again. He catches Jungkook off guard by rolling the two of them over so
Tae's on top this time.
Before Jungkook can protest, Tae puts a finger on Jungkook's lips. “Don't
move.” Tae moves his hands onto Jungkook's delicious abs. He pushes himself up
before dropping down onto Jungkook's length. After the second time, Jungkook
places his hands on Tae's hips to help him stay steady. Watching Tae fuck
himself on his cock must be one of the sexiest things Jungkook's ever seen. And
those little moans Tae lets out when he manages to hit his prostate—to die for.
While Jungkook could've spent his entire weekend watching Tae ride him, he’s
far too mischievous to listen to his hyung without protest. This time when Tae
drops himself again, Jungkook raises his hips, meeting Tae halfway. Thrusting
into Tae feels amazing to Jungkook, and Tae must be feeling it too. Tae
playfully slaps Jungkook's chest, pouting that his maknae hadn't listened to
him. Jungkook catches Tae’s hand and brings it to his mouth, peppering the bony
knuckles with kisses. He notices that Tae has stopped moving and had started
watching Jungkook with curiosity. With a little smirk on his face, Jungkook’s
sultry stare sends a shiver down Tae’s spine. He watches silently when Jungkook
parts his lips and starts sucking on his fingers, using his tongue to play with
them. He can’t help but bite his lower lip, imagining Jungkook’s lips around
his length, his tongue licking stripes up and down his shaft. When Jungkook’s
tongue slides in between Tae’s index and middle finger, Tae swears he almost
cums with a small whine.
Jungkook pulls Tae’s hand out of his mouth, a trail of saliva connecting the
two together. He starts to sit up, stopping when his lips are hovering over
Tae’s. “Can I move now?” Jungkook asks; his question is innocent but the way he
asks Tae makes the older boy want to melt. Blushing an intense shade of pink,
Tae frantically nods his head, too weak to move himself. Jungkook loves how
shamelessly needy his partner is and wraps his arms around Tae to flip him onto
his back. Jungkook slides his hands down Tae’s sides, tickling him as they
move; he takes a hold of Tae’s long legs and wraps them behind his back to
steady Tae when Jungkook grinds deeper into the hyung. Tae lets out a loud
moan, his eyes losing focus for a moment.
“S-Stop teasing me,” Tae whimpers under Jungkook.
“Fine. Remember: you asked for this,” Jungkook smiles against Tae’s lips. He
pulls himself almost all the way out before slamming back into Tae. His thrusts
are concise, not a motion wasted in giving Tae the pleasure he’s needed. It
doesn’t take Jungkook long to find that spot that Tae loves. Soon enough, the
room is filled only with the sounds of their skin clapping together and Tae’s
beautiful moans.
“J-Jungkook,” Tae breathes, reaching for the boy’s face.
“You close?” Jungkook asks, leaning down for him.
“Mhm,” Tae nods, closing his eyes to feel the sensations better. His fingers
find Jungkook’s hair, taking hold of the strands to ground himself.
“Me too,” Jungkook chuckles. “Why don’t we come together?” Again Tae only nods,
lost in the feeling of Jungkook penetrating him so deeply. Jungkook’s lips
capture Tae’s and his thrusts quicken, still precise in where inside Tae the
tip hits. A few more times and Tae’s entire body starts to shiver, his orgasm
painting both their bodies in streaks of white. Jungkook doesn’t last long
after either. “H-Hyung,” Jungkook stutters out, his eyes rolling to the back of
his head. Tae probably doesn’t realize it, but his sensitive insides are
clenching around Jungkook, milking him completely. “Amazing,” is all Jungkook
can manage between his heavy breaths. Tae can’t help but agree; even though
Jungkook’s cum is leaking out of his ass, he doesn’t make a move to wipe it
away before it gets onto the bedsheet. Jungkook has finally become his and he
has become Jungkook’s. Anybody who would dare try to take his Kookie away from
him is dead.
***** Chapter 10 *****
“They really couldn’t wait until we finished dinner to start fucking,” Namjoon
grumbles, releasing another knife towards the man chained to the wall. The
blade gets lodged into the wall half a centimeter from the man’s ear. Everyone
had just been about done with dinner when they heard the first moan from
Jungkook’s room. After the initial surprise, everyone shoveled whatever food
remained on their plates into their mouths, put the dishes in the sink and went
upstairs to give the new couple their alone time. All of them, with the
exception of Yoongi, had taught Jimin the proper techniques to hold and throw
the knife, giving him a few tips to help with his aim. When Jimin had the
basics down, the five of them had begun playing a game of who could get their
knife closest to the man without actually hitting him.
“Don’t act like you and hyung weren’t like that when we all first moved in
together,” Hoseok laughs and throws a knife. It lodges into the wall close to
the man’s jaw, just barely beating Namjoon’s. Jin shoots a look at Hoseok from
his place in line to throw but says nothing because Hoseok had only spoken the
truth. Their first time together had been a magical, unforgettable moment,
regardless of how nervous Namjoon had been.
“Enough talk about sex and concentrate. It’s getting boring winning every
round,” Yoongi mutters. His knives lands between the man’s hair, the blade
resting right on top of the man’s head. Jin lines his knife up with the spot
that he’s aiming for, squinting slightly at the terrified man. When he throws,
the knife stops right beside the man’s right temple. He actually beat the cocky
Yoongi in knife throwing—well he would have if the man hadn’t started bleeding.
Yoongi turns to the pouting Jin with a smug grin, securing his fourth victory
of the night.
“Please, enough with this torture,” the man cries as Namjoon walks up to the
wall to reclaim the knives for the next round. The man on the wall is sweating
profusely and smells even worse, having probably wet himself throughout the
course of their game.
“Let’s up the stakes for this round,” Hoseok suggests. So far, Jimin and Jin
have to do the dishes, Namjoon has to take the garbage out, and Hoseok has to
buy the soju for the week.
“What are you thinking?” Yoongi questions, raising a confident eyebrow.
“Loser has to go downstairs and get the two lovebirds up here so we finish this
whiny bitch off.” Smiles spread across the faces of all five of the men.
“You’re on,” Namjoon smirks. “We’ll do it in descending age order this time.”
“Alright,” Jin smiles. He takes aim and throws his knife, hitting the same spot
he had the round before. This time, however, no blood is drawn.
“Sorry, boys,” Yoongi says, “I’m not losing.” His knife goes right over the
man’s head again, pressing the man’s hair down against his scalp.
“Not today hyung,” Hoseok goes next, throwing the knife so close to the man’s
chin that he flinches.
“Looks like you’re going Jimin,” Namjoon remarks, his knife stopping beside the
man’s neck. All four of them had gotten skin but no blood, guaranteeing the
inexperienced boy as the loser. Little did they know that Jimin had chosen his
own loser while they had gone. Biting the inside of his cheek to prevent a
smirk from revealing his plan, Jimin takes aim with his own blade. He launches
the blade in the next moment, knowing his knife would go exactly where he has
intended it to go.
“No fucking way,” Yoongi curses out loud. Jimin’s blade had hit the same spot
as his own and had knocked his off the wall entirely. The rest of the boys
erupt in laughter at Yoongi’s misfortune. Jimin of course plays it off as pure
beginner’s luck and laughs all the same.
“Sorry, Yoongi,” Jimin says between laughs, completely unapologetic. Yoongi
flips him off and stalks towards the staircase. There’s no way that Jimin
could’ve knocked his knife off the wall had been the inexperienced brat he’s
been pretending to be. He’s definitely hiding something Yoongi thinks as he
saunters down the stairs. When he gets to the main floor, he’s surprised to
find Tae and Jungkook fully dressed, cuddling in front of the TV with a movie
playing.
“Yah,” he calls them. Their heads turn toward him simultaneously. Sickening.
“We have to dump the guy before sunrise. Come do what you need to.” With that,
the two look at each other, using some sort of silent communication. They hop
off the couch and head towards the elevators behind Yoongi. As soon as the
elevator doors open, Namjoon and Hoseok start cheering and whistling for the
new couple like a couple of horny construction workers. While Jungkook's face
starts to blush, Tae enters with a grand curtsy, soaking up the praise.
“Alright, alright, enough, you guys,” Yoongi interrupts, “let’s just get down
to business already; there's a death sentence begging to be delivered tonight.”
“You're right as always, hyung,” Tae smirks. Jimin's seen Tae making similar
expressions before; but never once has it had such malicious intent behind it.
“What should we do about you?” Tae ask, taking a knife from Hoseok and
launching it at full speed towards the man. It stops right beside his head; had
the man not moved, he would've been impaled. The man starts sobbing again,
begging to be forgiven and spared. Seeing such a pathetic display only makes
Tae’s smile grow even wider. “Should I cut off each of your fingers and feed
them to you?” Tae ponders, slowly pacing in front of the man. “Or maybe I
should fill you with lead for every minute you hurt my Kookie.” Suddenly Tae’s
face lights up and he turns towards his friends. “Does he have any family?”
Namjoon pulls out his phone and maneuvers his fingers quickly over the screen.
“A mom and a baby sister,” he reads from the file on his phone.
“Perfect!” Tae beams. He turns back towards the man who’s uncontrollably
shaking his head no. “Let’s take a little ride, shall we?”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“Is he really gonna kill all three of them?” Jimin sheepishly asks settling
down on the couch. Tae had borrowed the group’s van and sped off in the dead of
the night with the man gagged and tied to a hand cart for easy transportation.
After Tae had gone out dragging the man with him, Jimin and Jin have washed the
dishes as per the wager, Namjoon has taken out the trash, and Hoseok has
returned from the 24-hour convenience store with the soju. The five of them
gather in the living room to enjoy a movie on their new, bigger TV, courtesy of
Yoongi’s killing streak a few weeks ago.
“Probably,” Hoseok answers nonchalantly, stuffing his face with popcorn.
Jungkook had wanted to go along with him; but Tae and the other hyungs thought
it’d be better if Jungkook stays home and rests. Pouting, Jungkook has instead
confined himself to his room to finally review the surveillance footage from
almost a month ago instead of indulging in movie night with his hyungs.
Jungkook sits down in his chair and rolls himself over to his computer desk. He
opens up the Files folder and immediately notices something wrong. The footage
from the group’s security cameras is missing starting from the day before the
attack on the loft. Furrowing his brows, Jungkook searches up the files’ names
on his computer’s hard drive only to find that no files under those names
exist. Growing more confused, he then opens up the cameras’ feed; they’re
broadcasting perfectly fine. However, not a single one of them are recording.
How odd.He'd sworn he'd seen it and backed it up the day of the incident.
Using his feet he pushes away from his desk to his desk and pulls out a thumb
drive from his nightstand. Still the files he's looking for are nowhere to be
found. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sends Namjoon a text asking him
for help. Not a moment later does his hyung show up outside his door, throwing
it open with a rattling thud.
“Whaddyou need help with?” he asks, walking in uninvited.
“The footage is missing,” Jungkook tells him, lifting a hand to scratch the
back of his neck. “Also, apparently the cameras haven’t been recording anything
for the last three weeks.”
“Are you serious?” Namjoon responds, his eyes almost bulging out of his head.
“Mhm,” Jungkook nods, “look.” He shifts over and allows his hyung access to his
computer. He watches as Namjoon’s hands fly across the keyboard and
occasionally the mouse, checking everything possible.
“Okay, what the fuck?” Namjoon gives up, straightening back up.
“I swear on everything that the cameras caught what happened,” Jungkook tries
to think back to the day three weeks prior when he had gotten home from school.
“I remember,” Namjoon agrees, “I even told you to make sure you backed it up on
a USB.”
“Which I did.” Jungkook motions at the thumb drive in his computer. “But it's
not there either.” Namjoon’s face scrunches up as he starts to get lost in
thought, trying to figure out a way to retrieve the files or figure out what
had happened to them. There's no way this was caused by a hacker; my systems
are unhackable. And that wouldn't explain why the file’s not on the thumb drive
either. “Hyung,” the maknae interrupts the man's train of thoughts.
“I'm gonna do a little investigating myself. Let’s keeps this between us for
now,” Namjoon instructs him, knowing that they have both been thinking the same
thing and the only thing they lack now is motive.
“Understood,” Jungkook replies. Namjoon smiles and ruffles the boy's hair; even
though he's no longer that little boy Namjoon used to have to protect, Jungkook
still reminds the older of a precious bunny whenever he's obedient to his
hyungs. He leaves Jungkook with a curt “Good night” to let the younger boy rest
after his long day and returns to the living room.
Little did either one of them know that their suspect had been listening to
their conversation since the beginning. Under the pretense of being tired,
Jimin had retreated to his room right beside the maknae’s shortly after Namjoon
had been called in there. In their conversation, Jungkook and Namjoon have had
no reason to check the volume of their voices and had allowed Jimin full access
to their words without knowing it.
Hmm. Sounds like the endgame’s quickly approaching.The voice in Jimin’s head
snickers.
Shut up. I don't need to hear you right now.Jimin retorts.
But you know I'm right.
You're already dead.
Doesn't make it any less satisfying to say I told you so.
Fuck off.
I don't want to miss the big finale though.
There won't be one.
Oh but there will. Whether you like it or not.
You're wrong.
The voice continues, ignoring Jimin's attempts at silencing them by thinking
overlapping thoughts.You were always the best at carrying out your own self
destruction.
Shut up.
Short little Jiminnie. There's no one here to save you this time.
Shut up.
You think you can trust them but they're all gonna know that you’re just a
fake.
Shut up.
Especially that cute one. What's his name? Yoongi? He already knows you're
hiding something from him. He’s probably just waiting for you to drop your
guard enough so he can kill you.
Shut up.
What are you gonna do when he finds out just how dirty you are and tells
everyone else?
I'll kill them all myself.
There he is. The ruthless, bloodthirsty Minnie I know. Sweet dreams, oppa.
***** Chapter 11 *****
“H-Hyung?”
Jimin's ears prick just a little when he hears that soothing voice. When his
eyes find the source of the sound, his face brightens up and smile spreads
across his face. “Jungkook.” The maknae looks back at him with a mixture of
confusion, anger, and fear painted on his face. Out of his peripherals, Jimin
notices a black object in his outstretched hand: a gun. Oh that's why. No
wonder the maknae is on high alert; Jimin, the stranger his family had taken
into their home, is holding him at gunpoint.
“What did you do?” Jungkook's voice wavers for the first time since he his
voice had dropped years ago. He had come home from school later than usual,
having stopped to buy a treat as sweet as his Tae. When he walked in, he had
distinctly heard the sound of someone being gutted and found Jimin repeatedly
stabbing a knife into his precious hyung. He had dropped the box with the snack
in it in shock, alerting the aggressor of his presence. Jimin had grabbed the
gun Tae had tried to defend himself with off the floor and stood up to threaten
Jungkook next.
Jimin watches as tears start to well up in Jungkook's eyes, the ones that
couldn't look into his own and had instead been glued to the body he's standing
over. “Isn't it obvious?” Jimin finally responds to Jungkook's question, not a
trace of remorse in his voice. “Don't worry, you'll be joining him and the rest
of them shortly.”
“W-What,” Jungkook stammers, his body starting to shake from the grief taking
over.
“Yea, everyone else is dead too,” Jimin clarifies, “well everyone besides you
and that mint-haired pest.” Only after saying that does Jimin really notice the
amount of blood he's covered in. The rest of the kills had been quick and easy.
For Hoseok, Jimin had sliced his throat as soon as the older walked out to
greet him before noon. His body is still lying on the kitchen floor if Jungkook
wanted to see. Jin and Namjoon had been offed simultaneously by a well hidden
block of C4 in the car the two used to go out on a movie date. Jimin is sure
their deaths are still making headlines on the news stations. Tae had just come
back from his part time job moments ago and had discovered Hoseok’s body while
Jimin had been using the bathroom. Jimin got close by playing the victim again
before slipping the knife out of his sleeve and stabbing him to death. Which
leads to where he and Jungkook are now.
“W-Why?”
Jimin can't help but laugh at the boy's ridiculous question. “Don't act like
the six of you weren’t gonna try to kill me first.”
“We-We weren't.”
“Okay,” Jimin scoffs. “Since you're my favorite, I'll let you decide how you
want to go. Quick shots to the heart and head or I shoot an artery and I'll
keep you company until you bleed out. Your choice.”
Something about how casually Jimin says it angers Jungkook in a way that he's
never felt before. “Just,” he mutters through his clenched teeth, “just kill
me. There's no point in living if they're all dead already.”
“Hmm, wise words coming from our youngest,” Jimin comments with a smile.
“Whatever, I get it. I used to be like that too. Until the day I freed myself
from the people I cared about, I'd been living for them instead of with them.”
Thinking back on the memory, Jimin can't help but smile some more.
“Shut up and shoot me already,” Jungkook snaps.
“Wow, the youth of our generation really doesn't understand how to be patient.”
Jimin straightens his extended arm, somehow not feeling any type of tired from
holding the gun out for so long. He aims and fires, leaving a streak of red
across Jungkook's left cheek.
“I told you to kill me,” Jungkook yells, a hand flying to his bleeding cheek.
“No, you told me to shoot you; and I did,” Jimin retorts, “Red really does suit
you, you know.”
“I don't give a fuck, just kill me if you're gonna do it already.” Jungkook's
eyes finally meet Jimin's, and the older can't help but start to get excited.
That fire in Jungkook's eyes makes him look starved, hungry for pain. So Jimin
gives it to him and fires a shot into Jungkook's chest. Immediately the boy
collapses to the ground, a pool of red forming under him and dying his school
uniform. Jimin fires two more shots, one to the boy's heart and the other
between his eyes, for good measure, making sure the boy is dead on the floor.
“You bastard.”
Suddenly Jimin's inside Yoongi's room, straddling the older man. How delicious
Jimin thinks, looking down at the body under him. Yoongi's hands are handcuffed
to the headboard; his usual sleeping hoodie is pulled up to his neck revealing
his pale body and pink nipples. He tries to shake Jimin off him by flailing his
restrained legs, hurting himself even more.
“Now, now,” Jimin tries to soothe the frantic man, He begins running his hands
down Yoongi's sensitive sides, painting his white skin with red blood.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” Yoongi growls, furious at his helplessness to the
situation.
“Don't worry,” Jimin whispers against Yoongi's soft lips, “I’ll make you feel
good.” His hands journey down further and pull Yoongi's shorts and boxers down
enough for Jimin to have full access to the older man's dick. Palming the balls
for a brief moment, Jimin unconsciously licks his lips while watching his hand
pumping Yoongi's soft penis.
In the next moment, Jimin leans down and flicks his moist tongue across the tip
of Yoongi, earning a surprised curse from the older man. Smirking, Jimin
continues to work Yoongi's length with his tongue and hands until the man is
fully erect. Now’s when the fun starts. Jimin noses at the man's erection,
taking in the strong scent. He opens his mouth and slowly begins taking Yoongi
in, lowering himself around Yoongi inch by inch. When he finishes adjusting to
Yoongi's girth, Jimin starts to bob his head to suck the man off. When Jimin
feels a hand gripping his hair, he can't help but let out a loud moan, sending
the vibrations to Yoongi’s hard on.
Wait. Yoongi's hands should be chained to the bed. Instead, one of them is
sensually tugging at Jimin's orange hair.
Before Jimin can look at the reason why, he finds himself completely naked
staring up at the completely freed Yoongi. Instead, Jimin's the one with his
hands tied over his head. A cloth is secured around his head to gag him. This
time, Yoongi’s kneeling between his bare legs with a devious smirk on his face.
“You know, I heard what you said to Jungkook before,” he starts. One of Jimin’s
knives suddenly materializes on the bed for Yoongi to pick up. The man
carefully drags the blade’s flat side along Jimin's face right above his left
cheek, applying only enough pressure for the sharp tip to break skin and draw
blood. Jimin is crying in hopes of convincing Yoongi to let him go; because of
the gag the only thing Yoongi's sees is a helpless Jimin wantonly drooling in
anticipation. “We weren't going to kill you.” Jimin should've been surprised,
overcome with guilt for killing 5 innocent people who welcomed him into their
family. Instead, he flails his body, trying to free himself.
When Yoongi sits back on his heels, Jimin tries to close his legs by bringing
his knees together only to feel a sharp, searing pain in his right thigh. “Only
I was.” Yoongi had stabbed the knife into his leg to keep the younger from
closing them. Jimin screams around the gag, his back arching off the bed in
pain. Tears have involuntarily formed in his eyes, provoking Yoongi even
further.
“The rest of them,” Yoongi continues, “had nothing to do with you.” He plants a
hand on the instead of Jimin's thigh and spreads the boy’s legs wide apart
while pumping his erection with his other hand. Seeing Yoongi's dark
expression, Jimin’s eyes widen, already knowing what’s coming next. He shakes
his head no while trying to beg through the gag. But Yoongi only gets more
aroused. He lines himself up with Jimin's puckered hole, nudging at it with his
leaking tip.
“They only saw you as their pure, innocent Jimin,” he tirades. “They took you
in and loved you like you were actually one of us. And what do you do? You
killed them.”
When Yoongi enters him, Jimin feels his entire body shift back on the bed,
shying away from the pressure of Yoongi being inside of him. A hand grips his
hip and slowly pulls him back into place, coaxing him to open up around
Yoongi's erection. Being entered raw and without lube, Jimin holds his breath
in pain to keep a moan from slipping out. Jimin hesitantly lets that breath go
only when Yoongi stops moving, making sure no noises come out of him. His gets
fucked up quite literally when Yoongi suddenly thrusts the remainder of his
length into Jimin without warning and very loud, very audible whimper escapes
Jimin.
Yoongi can't help but laugh at the boy underneath him. What a gorgeous sound.
With that in mind, Yoongi decides to do whatever he can to make the boy emit
more noises. He pulls the soaking gag down to the boy's neck.
“P-Please stop,” Jimin cries, genuinely upset. Jimin can't count how many times
he's been raped by men he doesn't know. But this is different; being done by
Yoongi like this is something he couldn't have endured no matter how thick his
skin has gotten. He squeezes his eyes shut to block everything out, allowing
the tears in his eyes to drip down his face. He doesn't want to see Yoongi like
this, never like this. Jimin doesn't mind those ice cold looks he's been
receiving from Yoongi. But that hungry, beastly look on his face in this very
moment scares him to no extent. It's a look of not caring, a look of no fucks
given about Jimin, a look of being completely and utterly hated. That’s the one
look that he has never wanted to see on Yoongi, especially not when it's
directed at him.
“You killed the only people in world I cared about,” Yoongi laughs scornfully,
“what makes you think you begging is going to make me stop?” He pulls out
almost completely before ramming himself back into Jimin, unknowingly hitting
the boy's prostate. This time Jimin moans, sinfully letting the noise out
without restraint.
“I'm sorry,” Jimin blubbers, “I'm sorry. Please take it out. Please.”
“Naughty boys deserve to be punished don't you think,” Yoongi asks, starting to
thrust at a steady pace. He doesn't care that the friction against his dick is
starting to burn him and keeps going, using his anger to pick up speed. God,
Jimin is tight. But his greedy little hole seems to be sucking Yoongi in,
contradictory to his painful pleas.
“H-Hurts,” Jimin whines, inhaling sharply. “Yoongi, please.” At this point,
Jimin is full on bawling, disregarding his appearance in front of the man. The
pain in the lower half of his body is starting to become too much and Jimin
begins to get lightheaded. His head starts to lull back onto mattress and he
starts struggling to keep his eyes open. Lost in murmuring “Please”, Jimin only
snaps back to attention when Yoongi pulls the knife out of his leg.
“Such a bad boy,” he hears Yoongi tsk, “getting erect from having a knife
pulled out of your leg.” Jimin doesn’t even notice his dick needing attention,
too busy trying to will his body to stay awake. “Maybe I should just cut it off
for you.”
“No!” Jimin's tears start to fall even faster when he feels the cool metal of
the blade against his erection. “Please, please I'll be a good boy.” He hears
Yoongi chuckle. His tears clear up momentarily, allowing his eyes to focus on
Yoongi hovering over him. He sees the knife coming for him and instinctively
jerks to the side to avoid it, squeezing his head between his arms to protect
himself. His reaction only gets more maniacal laughter out of Yoongi. He opens
an eye and sees the knife lodged in the mattress right beside his underarm.
“You didn't think I'd just stab you, did you?” Yoongi taunts him. The boy
shakes underneath him, clearly terrified. Yoongi reaches a hand to brush a
stray strand of hair behind Jimin's ear, causing the younger to flinch in fear.
Chuckling, Yoongi drags the back of his cold hand along Jimin's cheek, using
his bony knuckles to caress him. His fingers slowly slip down to Jimin's smooth
neck, the light skin tone begging to be marked. And marked Yoongi would make
it.
Without a word, Yoongi's hand closes around Jimin's neck, squeezing the air out
of the boy while pushing him further into the mattress. Immediately Jimin
begins to choke and cough for air. The pressure sends blood to Jimin's head but
Yoongi couldn't care less and keeps pounding into him. “Yoongi.” Jimin's voice
barely comes out as a whisper but he just keeps calling the older man's name.
“Yoongi, please.” Slowly, Jimin can feel his consciousness start to slip away.
His eyes are heavier than they have ever been. Knowing that he's about to die,
Jimin makes sure to use his last chance to make amends in his very last moment.
He musters up what remains of his breath and whispers out one last phrase.
“I'm sorry.”
 
***** Chapter 12 *****
Jimin wakes up panting with his heart pounding in his ears. This is the fourth
time this week that he has woken up with his cheeks stained with tears and his
eyes swollen and puffy. He pulls his blanket closer to his chest, bunching up a
corner to have something to hug. A hand remains clutching the blanket while the
other moves around under his pillow searching for the hilt of one of his
knives. When he feels nothing under his pillow, Jimin's brows furl and he
sweeps his arm under the pillow, trying to find his precious dual blades.
Still nothing. Where are they? He sits up in his bed and lifts his pillow from
the mattress. Nothing. His knives aren't in his bed with him; they aren't on or
in his nightstand. No; they've been confiscated by Yoongi after he had been
woken up by Jimin throwing them at the wall that separated their rooms.
In his tossing and turning, Jimin hadn't even noticed Yoongi slipping into his
room almost a week ago; the usually light sleeper hadn't heard the small grunt
Yoongi let out when he dislodged the blades. In and out, Yoongi had been quick,
ignoring the boy whimpering in his sleep. He had hidden the knives with his
arsenal hidden by the false bottom of one of the drawers of his dresser. With
his busy week, Yoongi had completely forgotten about them by the time Jimin had
finally noticed them missing.
Like a child without his teddy bear, Jimin can't fall asleep knowing that his
knives aren't available to him. Of course he could've pulled out his Beretta
from the trunk, but it wouldn't be the same as those special knives. He spends
the next few hours with his eyes shut, trying to find comfort in his own bed.
But every time he lets his mind wander from anything besides sleep, he imagines
the feeling of warm, thick blood coating his hands. He hears the sound of
Jungkook crying, telling the elder to kill him. He sees an image of Yoongi
surrounded by a dark aura, smirking over the smaller boy.
If his recurring dream had been real, Jimin thinks he wouldn’t have killed them
all any other way. Jungkook would go last, right after his precious Tae.
Namjoon and Jin would be killed together. The only difference is that Yoongi’s
death would absolutely have to come first and Hoseok’s later. Unlike the other
five, Yoongi doesn’t seem to be the type to let emotions stop him from doing
what needs to be done. Jimin isn’t completely confident that he can take Yoongi
on when the time comes, especially if the latter is motivated by revenge and
anger.
Jimin turns over in his bed yet again, trying to get the thoughts out of his
head. This is wrong. He shouldn’t be plotting how he intends on killing them as
if he would need do it eventually.
That’s because you will do it.
No. Jimin doesn’t have the strength or the energy to fend off the malignant
voice of his subconscious. I don’t need you to be here right now.
Aw. C’mon, oppa. You’re only saying that because I’m the only one that knows
the truth .
Shut up, already.
You liked that dream didn’t you?
No.
Killing each and every one of them in turn.
Go away.
Firing those shots into that cute maknae.
Stop talking.
And then getting fucked to death by that hottie.
You’re wrong.
About what? Admit it. Just thinking about it gets you hard doesn’t it? It
certainly gets me wet.
No. You’re dead; your mind games aren’t going to work on me this time.
Aren’t they?
Get. The fuck. Out. Of. My. Head.Jimin can’t help by sigh in relief when his
receives no snarky response. Thinking he can finally get some sleep, he turns
over in his bed again.
However, even when Jungkook wakes and leaves for school, sleep doesn't return
to Jimin. The boy finally gives up and gets out of bed when he hears who he
thinks is the last person leaving the loft. He slumps into the bathroom to piss
and brush his teeth. While brushing his teeth, Jimin ends up looking into the
mirror and studying the boy staring back at him; his eyes are drooping and red,
still puffy from having cried hours before. The dark circles under them appear
even more prominent that morning than ever before.
Finished in the bathroom, Jimin shuffles out to the living room, completely
missing the man standing at the kitchen counter drinking coffee. He flops down
onto the couch in front of the TV, bathing in the afternoon sunlight. It has
been a verylong time since Jimin has had a sleepless night. Now he remembers
why he hates them. After lying there for a few more minutes, Jimin's stomach
growls, having grown accustomed to receiving food around this time.
Lazily, Jimin rolls off the couch, not bothering to catch himself before
landing on the new carpet with a muffled thud. On the floor, Jimin contemplates
crawling to the kitchen instead of walking. Before he could make a move towards
the smell of food calling out to him, a set of pale feet appear in front of
him. “You look like shit,” a deep voice tells him. Jimin can’t help but flinch
at the man’s voice. Had it not been for that slight twitch of his eyebrow,
Yoongi wouldn’t have even noticed.
But Yoongi does and he can’t help but chuckle at the younger boy. Jimin doesn’t
lift his head from the floor but he can hear Yoongi placing something near his
head. “I’m really curious.” Yoongi’s breath is suddenly hitting Jimin’s ear and
the boy can’t help but shiver from the feeling. “What kind of dream did you
have last night that’s got you so terrified of me?” Jimin’s eyes can’t help but
widen in surprise. How does he know?
Jimin scoffs, trying to maintain his façade. “Since when am I scared of a
little bitch like you?” Jimin retorts, lifting his head from the carpet. A few
inches away from his face is his plate of breakfast and a mug of what Jimin can
guess is coffee.
“You’re really not convincing,” Yoongi laughs, ruffling Jimin’s messy bed head
before sitting down in his usual chair. “‘Please, Yoongi, stop. I’m sorry.’” He
purposely raises the pitch of his voice to mock the sounds Jimin had let slip
out while he was sleeping. “Really, how much more pathetic can you ge—?” Before
Yoongi can finish his question, Jimin pushes himself off the ground and lunges
at Yoongi in his chair. The force of Jimin’s tackle is enough to knock both
Yoongi and his chair over onto its back. Although initially caught off guard,
Yoongi reacts quickly by launching the boy off of him with his own momentum. At
the same time that the younger catches himself and lands on his feet, Yoongi
rolls off his fallen chair and straightens himself out.
“Don't talk about me like you know anything about me,” Jimin growls. He raises
his fists, ready for the coming fight.
“I know who the real bitch standing is,” Yoongi remarks, imitating Jimin’s
pose.
“Glad we can agree it isn’t me,” Jimin spits, looking at Yoongi with hooded
eyes.
“You sure you wanna do this, brat?” Yoongi smirks. “I'm a trained killer, you
know.”
So am I. Jimin thinks, quickly advancing towards Yoongi with the intention of
hurting him.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“What the hell?!” Jin shouts when he walks into his home. He spots Yoongi
holding a pack of frozen corn to his jaw sitting directly in the middle of the
mess that has become his living room smoking without a care in the world.  
“Yoongi what the hell happened?” Jin repeats, marching over to him and taking
the cigarette from his hand. He snuffs out the barely burnt cigarette in the
ashtray on the floor beside Yoongi.
“Our house guest and I got into a little disagreement,” Yoongi replies calmly,
reaching for his box of smokes.
“A little?!” Jin retorts. Closer up, Jin can see Yoongi’s knuckles bruised, his
lip split, and a very dark bruise on his jaw. All around them are broken pieces
of furniture. A broken mug lies on the carpet surrounded by a large brown
stain. The food that he had left for Jimin in the morning is completely
squished beside it, and the plate is nowhere to be seen. The TV, while still
standing, has a very large crack on the screen. Some of the pictures on the
walls have been broken, knocked down, or both. There’s a distinct hole in the
middle of one of Jin’s canvas paintings. The couches are knocked over, if not
moved from their original places.
“I’ll pay for it,” Yoongi grumbles.
“Yea, no shit,” Jin retorts. “Where is he?” By the looks of the apartment, Jin
has no idea what kind of damage Yoongi had dealt to the younger, less
experienced boy. At least there aren’t any knives stuck in his couch and there
aren’t any bullet holes to be seen.
“No idea. He stormed out a few hours ago,” Yoongi shrugs, lighting up another
cigarette. Jin snatches it before he could even bring it to his lips and snuffs
it out too.
“And you just let him leave?”
“Yup.” Fuming, Jin confiscates Yoongi's box of smokes and heads toward the
door. “You gonna go find him?”
“Of course. What if he gets attacked again? What if someone tries to—”
“Trust me,” Yoongi interrupts his hyung, “he can take care of himself.” Jin
studies Yoongi’s dead expression. Even on Yoongi’s most difficult jobs, he
usually comes home with nothing more than a few scratches. Yet, in a fight with
Jimin, Yoongi seems to have actually taken a few hits. “He’s a much better
fighter than he’s letting on,” Yoongi adds in a quieter voice, not wanting to
admit that the boy had been able to keep up with him in the fight.
“What?” Jin asks, needing to make sure he had heard Yoongi correctly.
“He’s hiding something from us,” Yoongi reiterates, “I don’t know what it is,
but I’m gonna find out.”
***** Chapter 13 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Jin had made Yoongi clean up the mess in the living room that night. Yoongi had
salvaged what he could of the furniture and disposed of everything that the
fight had ruined. He would have to go out to buy replacements for everything
else the next day. Since the fight, Jimin's been leaving the loft the moment he
wakes up and returns only after everyone's gotten tired of staying up waiting
for him.
Today hadn't been any different. Yoongi has the loft to himself since Tae and
Jungkook had their own assignments to attend to that night. Both had left
promptly after dinner clan in tailored suits to be worn on special occasions.
Tae’s night shift had been picked up by Hoseok and Namjoon had decided to take
Jin out for a much needed date night to get his mind off Jimin.
Despite being in a rare, empty home, Yoongi decides to confine himself to his
room. The fight with Jimin had made his blood boil to no extent, leaving him
with quite an abundant amount of anger. Opening his email on his computer in
hopes of seeing a request for a job, Yoongi’s surprised to find only one unread
email in his inbox.
You wanted answers, right?
That’s all that the email read, this single line of text followed by a URL.
Hesitantly, Yoongi hovers the cursor over the link, unsure of what he would
see. After a few more seconds of mental debate, he allows his index finger to
press down on the mouse, opening up a new window in his browser. On it is a
grid of videos, almost all without titles. By looking at the thumbnails of the
bloodied and bruised faces and bodies, he knows for sure that he is looking at
a younger version of the boy living in the next room.  
Scrolling down, Yoongi realizes that there are at least a hundred different
videos on the site, all of them starring a battered Jimin. Yoongi looks for the
very first of the videos all the way at the bottom of the long page. His brows
scrunch in confusion seeing that the video is a little less than five minutes
long while the rest of the videos are in double digits. Again he hesitates
before ultimately giving in to his curiosity and clicking the video. A new tab
appears and the video begins automatically.
A hand moves away from the camera’s lens and reveals a young boy with his arms
restrained behind his back with duct tape, struggling in the grip of a much
larger man whose face is just cut out by the camera’s viewpoint. The camera
moves closer to Jimin, getting directly into his face. A hand snakes under the
boy’s chin and forces him to look directly into the camera. “What’s your name?”
the voice behind the camera asks.
“Screw you,” Jimin spits, hitting the lens of the camera directly. Immediately
a cloth flies in front of the lens and moves around to clean it. All the while,
a loud slap can be heard in the background followed by a small grunt. When the
camera refocuses, Jimin is positioned in front of the camera again, a large red
welt forming on his cheek.
“Let’s try that again. What’s your name?”
“The Crown Prince of fucking your mom,” Jimin growls. Yoongi’s eyebrow can’t
help but twitch up in surprise, amused by how defiant the boy is despite his
predicament.
The cameraman must think so too, as he releases a slight chuckle. “Close enough
for me. How old are you Prince?”
“2429 years old,” Jimin retorts.
Again the man behind the camera laughs, “I’m glad we finally got ourselves a
feisty one.” He reaches a hand and grabs Jimin’s chin to angle his head to look
the man in the eye. “We’re gonna have so much fun with you, Prince. Let’s see
if you bite is stronger than your bark. Be a good boy for us and behave, yea?”
He tosses Jimin’s head to the side and backs up. The man holding Jimin pulls
out a knife and cuts the tape holding his arms before giving him a hard shove,
causing young boy to lose his balance and fall without being able to catch
himself.
Jimin pulls the tape off his arms with loud rips, his arms red and probably
stinging. He doesn’t notice the older looking boy approaching him a with a
metal bat. Like an idiot, the boy destroys his advantage of surprise by letting
out a warcry while charging at the small boy on the floor. Right before the bat
can crush his skull, Jimin rolls out of the way and gets onto his feet; the bat
collides with the concrete and generates a loud echo.
The boy charges at Jimin again, holding the bat high above his head, ready to
swing down on his victim. This time, Jimin doesn’t move away; in fact he
doesn’t even flinch. When the boy swings down, Jimin lifts an arm and catches
the bat in a tight grip, flexing the defined bicep on his arm; he uses the
other hand to land blows to the larger boy’s ribcage, pounding into him until
the drops the bat and stumbles back in pain.
Jimin wipes the sweat on his fist away on his shirt and throws the bat away. He
advances at the boy with a bloodthirsty look on his face that even sends a
chill down Yoongi’s spine. He stalks towards the boy with his fists clenched at
his sides, practically oozing bloodlust. Just out of arm's reach of the boy,
Jimin stops and raises his fists for a fight. Clumsily, the boy takes the dare
and launches himself at Jimin. Throwing the first punch, the boy misses when
Jimin dodges the fist effortlessly. Jimin counters by grabbing the boy’s wrist
and twisting his arm behind the boy to subdue him. Jimin allows the boy to
struggle for a few moments before raising a leg to kick the boy onto floor,
causing him to slide a few inches on the floor.
Before the boy can even think about getting up, Jimin is already on top of him,
pulling the boy’s neck back in a chokehold. “Give up.” Jimin commands him just
loud enough for the camera’s mic to pick up.
“Fuck you, you faggot,” the boy retorts. This time Jimin doesn’t have a witty
comeback. Instead, he moves his arms and creates a loud crack that silences the
entire room. The boy underneath him goes limp and Jimin drops his head on the
floor, getting up and walking away from him, not bothering to even look at the
body or the man running towards it. The camera suddenly tilts and shakes as the
cameraman approaches the body. He zooms in on the man’s face twisted in agony,
holding the boy’s head in his arms.
The man pushes the camera out of his face and makes the mistake of charging at
Jimin too. He tries to punch the smaller boy just as (who Yoongi assumed was)
his son had. Jimin stops the fist by clasping it in his own hand and does the
same to the man’s second attempt to hit him, effectively holding him back.
Suddenly Jimin’s eyes shift focus from the man to look at something off screen
and his arms lose their strength. The man takes advantage of the distraction to
escape Jimin’s grasp. Right before the video ends, the man lands a hard punch
to the side of Jimin’s head, sending him straight to the ground. What? The
video couldn’t just end like that.
Yoongi exits the video and clicks on the very next one. As he has guessed, the
next video is a continuation of the first. The camera takes a frustratingly
long second to refocus. Jimin has gone completely limp. Men on either side of
him hold him up by his arms, lifting him up enough so that his ankles just
barely touch the ground. Meanwhile, father from the first video uses Jimin as a
punching bag, throws uppercuts into the lifeless boy’s stomach. After a few
more punches, two more men appear and hold the father back, pulling him away
from the boy.
The camera approaches Jimin’s limp figure. “Any snarky comments you'd like to
make, Prince?” the cameraman asks.
“Bite me,” Jimin retorts. He uses the men holding him up as support as he pulls
back one of his legs and swings it at the camera man. Jimin must have kicked
the man because he grunts and the camera tilts for a split moment.
“We don’t usually do this to the winners,” the man growls, “but for you, we’ll
make an exception.” Jimin gets dropped to the ground without the energy to
catch himself when the two men let go of him. The two men take turns kicking
Jimin, who starts to curl in to shield himself from the boots. Someone off
camera whistles and both men stop to look. Moments later, a roll of duct tape
is thrown into the frame and one of the men catches it. Seeing the men looming
over him, Jimin tries to crawl away, dragging himself with one arm while the
other clutches his battered body.
The men easily drag him back in place by his ankles. They force Jimin’s arms
behind him and tape them together. One of them kicks him over onto his back so
the other can put tape over his mouth. Before the man can get close enough,
Jimin uses both of his legs to kick the man back. In the next instant, Jimin
flips himself upright, landing firmly on his feet.
“Ooh,” the cameraman comments, “looks like our Prince still has some fight left
in him. But no matter, we have all the time in the world.” Jimin turns to run
from the men in front of him only to slam into a fourth, larger man’s chest.
Stumbling back, Jimin has to steady himself so he doesn’t fall over. While the
boy looks up at the man, his hands bound behind his back flip off the
cameraman. Before Jimin can figure out a way out of his situation, more men
appear with crude weapons in their hands; they surround the younger boy to cut
off any and all routes of escape.
“Still got shit to say?” the cameraman asks.
Provoked, Jimin turns his head back to the camera. “Fuc—” Before he can finish,
Jimin starts convulsing, dropping to the ground moments later. The large man
Jimin had run into drops the taser he had kept concealed in his beefy hands.
The camera pans down to Jimin twitching uncontrollably on the floor.
“Thought not,” the cameraman chuckles. “Strip him.” Immediately hands swarm
Jimin, pulling and tugging at his clothes until his shirt is ripped apart and
his pants are pulled down to his ankles.
“S-Stop,” Jimin stutters out, still feeling the after-effects of the taser. “L-
Let me go.” The men chuckle at his helplessness and force Jimin onto his back
to show the audience his defined abs littered with bruises. The men greedily
force his legs apart and hold them open for the camera. The camera moves in
close between Jimin’s legs, broadcasting the solid colored boxer briefs Jimin
had been wearing.
“I wonder what’s under here,” the cameraman muses, using a hairy finger to poke
Jimin between his legs.
“Don’t t-touch me.” More jovial laughter. The finger hooks under the waistband
of Jimin’s underwear and slowly drags it down to his thighs, revealing the
boy’s limp dick.
“What a pretty color.” The cameraman wraps a hand around Jimin’s length and
squeezes before stroking it once and running his finger along the tip. “I
wonder: have you ever touched yourself here?” The camera moves to Jimin’s
flushed face, his head turned to a side to avoid looking into the camera. This
time, Jimin really has no words to respond with. Again the cameraman chuckles.
The camera moves back from Jimin’s face as the cameraman gets up, only to zoom
in and slowly trail down Jimin’s body. “You know what’s gonna happen now, right
Prince?” The cameraman backs up and allows the surrounding men to attack Jimin.
“No!” Jimin screams, still struggling on the ground. The boy is outnumbered.
Outsized. Restrained. It doesn’t take long for his boxers to be ripped off and
thrown aside. “I’ll fucking kill you all!” Jimin yells.
“Sure,” one of the men chuckles, unzipping his own pants. He pulls out his hard
on and starts stroking right in above Jimin’s eyes. Filthy fingers start
pinching at Jimin’s small, pink nipples, willing them to get hard. Another hand
works on giving Jimin an erection, quickly stroking his dick. All Jimin can do
is yell, cursing at the men around him.
“Stop!”
“No!”
The men ignore his pleas entirely, continuing on without any consideration of
the boy. Eventually the hands start moving lower toward Jimin’s ass.
“Stop! Not there!” Jimin yells. Still the finger enters him, thrusting in the
boy without any lubrication. Soon another finger enters, drawing blood. The
hand scissors Jimin open while roughly stabbing his ass, causing the boy to try
and scoot away from the man, but the hands hold him firmly in place.
Before long, the first man—the man who had tased Jimin—lines himself up with
Jimin’s bleeding hole. Without any warning, the man enters and forces his
entire length into the small boy with a single thrust. The boy screams out in
pain. “Please, stop!”
Yoongi’s heart skips a beat. The boy on the screen is crying in the same way
that Jimin had been the last few nights. The only difference is that in between
Jimin’s pleas, he has been calling Yoongi by name. Pulling one of the earbuds
out of his ear, he proceeds to exit the tab and minimize the browser. For
almost a week, Jimin had been dreaming of Yoongi raping him and had been
begging in his sleep for him to stop. “What the fuck,” Yoongi says out loud,
too stunned to have any other type of response.
No matter how much of a monster Yoongi has become, he would never stoop so low
as to raping someone. That line is one that he would never ever cross. Just
thinking about forcing himself onto someone else makes his dick soft. Why was
Jimin having nightmares about Yoongi raping him? Does Jimin think that he would
one day do that to the boy?
“I knew I was right in thinking that you'd be into this kind of thing.”
Snapping his head to the direction the voice had come from, Yoongi finds Jimin
leaning lazily against his bedroom door frame.
Chapter End Notes
     Thanks for 200+ kudos!! <3
***** Chapter 14 *****
Jin drums his fingers on his lap, staring out the car window with a concerned
look on his face. Seeing the man's pout reflected in the mirror, Namjoon takes
his hand from the gear shift and places it over Jin's jittering hand. He
skillfully slips his fingers into the spaces between Jin's and wraps the
elder’s hand up with his own. “It's okay, babe. Jimin's okay,” Namjoon tries to
reassure him with a small squeeze.
“How to would you know that?” Jin asks, whipping his head to face his lover.
“He landed a punch on Yoongi-hyung,” Namjoon remarks, “he’ll be fine. For now,
just relax and enjoy tonight with me.” Jin lets out a defeated sigh but that
pout doesn't leave his beautiful face.
“Easier said than done, Joonie.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“Are we there yet?” Jungkook asks for the nth time that night. His hyung is
driving with one hand on the wheel. The other is intertwined with Jungkook's
own, the same shoulder acting as a pillow for the maknae.
It's been awhile since they had gone on a job just the two of them; it's
certainly the first time they've ever gone together since they officially
became a thing.
“Kookie, sit up,” Tae shrugs his shoulder, “you'll wrinkle the suit.” He and
Tae are both wearing suits for tonight's black tie event. While Jungkook had
struggled to tie his straight tie, his hyung somehow managed to get a bow tie
on around his neck. Regardless of neckwear, both of them are breathtakingly
handsome; if looks could kill, all they would’ve had to do is make an
appearance.
“Don't wanna,” Jungkook mumbles, shifting in his seat to rest his head on Tae
at a more comfortable angle.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Namjoon pulls into the parking space a bit too hastily, parking the car at an
odd angle. He takes the keys out of the ignition and gets out of the vehicle
too quickly for the distracted hyung to notice that the car had stopped moving.
Jin, on the other hand, doesn't look up from his phone until the night breeze
hits him when Namjoon opens his door for him. Lifting his head, he sees
Namjoon’s hand inches away from his face, begging to be taken.
Jin has to hide the blush that starts to heat up his neck and cheeks. He
pockets his phone the same time he takes his boyfriend’s hand with his own.
Namjoon gets him a guiding tug, stepping back only slightly to allow Jin space
to get out. When Jin is fully out, Namjoon pulls his lover’s hand to his lips
and presses a soft kiss to his knuckles. Next, he surprises Jin by twirling him
around to hug him from behind.
“Smooth,” Jin giggles in Namjoons embrace.
“Thank Hoseok,” Namjoon smiles, resting his chin on Jin's head. If then two of
them could've stayed there like that forever, they probably would have.
However, they're standing in a movie theater’s parking lot and Namjoon had a
lot planned for the night.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“Invitations, please.” Both Jungkook and Tae produce their invitations from the
pocket inside their jackets and hand them to the man. After briefly looking
over them, he flashes them a smile, “enjoy your evening, gentlemen.” After
returning the smiles, Jungkook grabs a sleek black mask while Tae opts for a
white one.
As they approach the double doors, the bouncers open them simultaneously and
the two enter the ballroom shoulder to shoulder. The room is dimly lit,
illuminated only by the spotlights above the auction items displayed in glass
cases. With the utmost confidence, the two suanter down the stairs, knowing
that half the room’s masked eyes have turned to them. Only when they reach the
bottom do the eyes return to the real prizes of the auction. The hyung and
maknae turn to each other.
“Let me know when you find her,” Jungkook tells Tae, reaching up to adjust his
bow tie.
“Same to you,” Tae replies, pretending to swipe a piece of dust off Jungkook’s
shoulder.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Inside the dark movie theater, the couple sits reclined in the leather seats.
They had decided to watch the latest romance movie to start off their evening.
Since sitting down and reclining, Namjoon has rested his head in the crook of
Jin’s neck, loving the feeling of Jin’s hand every time it runs through his
pink hair. Namjoon’s hand that isn’t trapped between their bodies is locked
with Jin’s, both resting Jin’s stomach rising and falling as he breathes.
“Jin,” Namjoon mumbles as he eyes start to grow heavy.
“Yea?” the elder replies, looking down at his sleepy boyfriend.
“Love you.” He lifts his head to Jin’s who tilts his head down to give him a
peck on the lips.
“I love you too, sweetie.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“I got eyes on her,” Tae mutters under his breath. Immediately, Jungkook’s eyes
shoot up and search for his boyfriend from across the large room.
“She’s headed your way,” Tae continues, “don’t do anything to make her put her
guard up.” Not a moment later does Jungkook hear the sharp click of a high heel
on the gound. Instead of tensing up around girls like he always does, he tries
to keep his composure, pretending that he isn’t counting down the number of
clicks before she gets to him. Acting natural, he returns his attention to the
display case beside him. Inside the glass is a bottle of what looks like
expensive perfume. The metal plaque underneath says otherwise.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” the woman’s voice asks Jungkook. She appears on the
opposite side of the glass case; instead of admiring the bottle and its
contents, her eyes are staring straight at Jungkook.
“Definitely one of a kind,” Jungkook comments, straightening up to face the
woman.
“I would assume so,” the woman chuckles, “since its creator was killed by it.”
“A real pity indeed,” Jungkook agrees, matching his speech patterns to the
standard of hers.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Namjoon really did fall asleep during the movie, waking up a little more than
halfway through. Jin isn’t mad though, he knows that his Joonie had a long day
and was tired but still insisted on taking him out. From his position on his
boyfriend’s chest, Namjoon looks up at Jin’s delectable neck. Although he was
tempted to claim it as his, he holds back, knowing not to disturb Jin who is
trying to watch the movie. So instead, like a good boyfriend, he turns his
attention to the screen in front of them.
Almost an hour later, the movie ends and the two leave the theater, stretching
their bodies as they walk out. They hold hands all the way to their car;
Namjoon lets go first just to hold the door open for Jin.
“You enjoy the movie?” Namjoon asks as he climbs into the driver’s seat.
“Yea,” Jin nods, “it was cute.”
“You’re cute,” Namjoon smiles, leaning over to kiss Jin before starting up the
car. He leans over to the glove compartment and pulls out a silk piece of
fabric. “Put this on?”
“Do I have to?” Jin pouts. One of his favorite things to do in a car ride is
look out the window and watch the scenery speed by.
“Please?” Namjoon flashes his dimples and bats his eyes.
“You’re not fair,” Jin concedes, folding his arms across his chest. With a
smile, Namjoon gently glides the cloth around Jin’s head, making sure to
tighten it only enough that it wouldn’t fall off before his surprise.
Before sitting back to drive, Namjoon stops by Jin’s ear. “You trust me,
right?” he whispers. Jin shivers at the feeling of his lover’s breath on his
neck. He swallows down a gulp and nods. “Love you,” Namjoon tells him, biting
the reddening earlobe.
“Love you too."
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“Seems like the auction’s starting,” Tae says to Jungkook through his earpiece.
He looks at Jungkook trying his hardest to not seem like the awkward teenager
he is in front of their target. He hears every word Jungkook says to charm her,
shivering every now and then when he knows that Jungkook’s words are meant for
him. If only he could say such words to me in bed. Tae sighs and takes a glass
from the tray of the passing waiter.
“Should we go?”  the woman asks Jungkook.
“Let’s,"  Jungkook smoothly replies. Tae watches him hold his arm out for the
woman to wrap hers around.
“I might just have to punish you for being so seductive when we get home,” Tae
tells his boyfriend. Even from this distance, Tae can see the back of
Jungkook’s neck start to redden in embarrassment. He smirks to himself, knowing
that the evil maknae can’t say anything back without alerting the woman.
“Why don’t you grabs us seats and I’ll go get you another drink,”  Jungkook
suggests.
“I’d much rather just skip the auction and just take you back up to my room,”
she says directly into Jungkook’s earpiece, “Or would that be too much of a
problem for you and your little boyfriend over there?”
***** Chapter 15 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The drive is long and Jin can't help but fidget in his seat. For a while now,
he's been sitting on his hands to stop from fidgeting so much from nervousness.
He finally gives up and reaches out in search of Namjoon’s hand. Clumsily, his
boyfriend takes the hint and intertwines their fingers together. Just the
feeling of Namjoon’s pulse against his puts Jin slightly more at ease.
“Babe,” Jin speaks, finally breaking the silence, “how much longer?”
“Ten more minutes, okay?” Namjoon tells him, pressing a kiss to the back of
Jin's hand to mull him over. “Would you prefer if I took the blindfold off?”
Not wanting to put to waste whatever Namjoon has planned, Jin shakes his head,
deciding to suck it up for the last ten minutes. “Okay,” Namjoon purrs against
Jin's hand. “We’ll be there soon, I promise.” He uses his thumb to stroke the
older man's hand for reassurance. Although both men are reluctant to say
anything, Jin knows for a fact that Namjoon can feel his racing pulse; he is
scared and Namjoon knows that he has every right to be.
By speeding for the last four miles, Namjoon gets them to their destination in
just under eight minutes. He pulls off from the highway onto the dirt road to
park their vehicle. Without a word, he slips out from Jin's grasp and exits the
vehicle. The beat Jin's heart had skipped terrifies him even more. Moments
later he hears the door beside him open and a hand takes one of his. He's
slowly guided out of the vehicle by the hand. Namjoon takes a hold of Jin's
other hand and leads him to the spot he had so carefully planned out.
A few more steps later and Namjoon stops. He positions Jin onto a spot in the
dirt and takes a step back. “Joonie?” Jin calls out, his heart racing from a
mixture of fear and anticipation.
“Not yet, babe,” Namjoon replies, hastily making sure everything he had set up
is perfect. “Almost, I swear.” After some last minute checks, Namjoon is
satisfied with his display and turns back to his fidgeting lover. “Okay, take
it off.” Jin does, untying the knot behind his head. When the cloth comes off
and his eyes adjust to the lighting, his mouth unhinges from his jaw in awe.
“Joonie, what did you do?” Jin asks, his voice breaking as tears of joy begin
streaming out. Before him is a dazzling display that had taken Namjoon the
entire week to plan out. The two of them are standing at a small opening atop
Mt. Anson overlooking the entirety of Seoul. At the very center is a table—most
likely the one Jin noticed had disappeared earlier in the day—decorated with a
clean white table cloth, candles, silverware, and wine glasses. Chairs stand on
opposite sides of the table. Strings of lights hang above the table and lead
into the trees. And that view. Seoul at night resembles a sea of fallen stars,
each light telling its own story.
Namjoon shuffles over to the extremely overwhelmed hyung and takes a hold of
one of the hands Jin had used to cover his tear-streaked face. He gently guides
Jin to the table, letting go of his hand only to pull the man’s chair out for
him. After seating Jin, Namjoon rushes over to the car and pulls out a covered
tray along with a tall glass bottle. Removing the cover, Namjoon reveals two
perfectly plated porcelain dishes of food. He sets one in front of Jin and the
other in front of his own seat, placing the tray on the ground for the time
being. He opens up the bottle next—sparkling cider since he’s driving—and pours
them both a glass. Then, and only then, does Namjoon settle into his own chair
and looks to Jin for his reaction.
“What-what is all this?” Jin manages between sniffles. He uses the napkin
Namjoon had provided to dab the water from his eyes.
“Happy anniversary, princess,” Namjoon coos, leaning forward in his seat to
place a kiss on Jin’s lips. Instead of being happy, Jin’s heart drops. He’d
forgotten. He’d been so worked up about Jimin and Yoongi that he’d forgotten
the special day that he shares only with the man he loves. The tears return to
his eyes. How could I have forgotten? The thought and guilt only make him feel
worse. That’s when Namjoon once again wraps his hand around Jin’s and gives him
a squeeze.
“It’s okay, baby,” Namjoon tells him, “you didn’t forget.” What? Those words
shock Jin out of his self wallowing. No. But he did forget. “I’m two days
early. You seemed really tense with worrying about Jimin all week. I figured
you could use a nice date to brighten your mood. And I know it won’t be as nice
as this, but don’t worry, I have something prepared for our special day.” The
cloud pouring tears and sadness down on Jin suddenly disappears and a rainbow
takes its place. He itches to leap over the table and launch himself at Namjoon
in elation. But he holds back for now, wanting to cherish the work Namjoon had
put into doing this. When they get home though, someone is definitely getting a
well-earned reward.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
While Jin and Namjoon enjoy their night, Taekook is in a less than ideal
predicament for their first date. When the woman had finished speaking into
Jungkook’s earpiece, Tae had seen the reflection of light off the gun pressed
into Jungkook’s ribs and froze. In the blink of an eye, the two had disappeared
from the room. Tae snaps out of his surprise and moves to go look for them.
Before he can so much as take a step, however, large hands land on both of
Tae’s shoulders, keeping him still. He turns to face the owners of the hands,
not surprised to find himself looking up at the burly men. “Excuse me,
gentlemen,” Tae greets them, “you wouldn’t happen to know where your friend
took my Kookie, would you?” The two men in front of him look at one another,
confused by the question. “No? Then I must be leaving then, urgent business to
take care of.” He turns to walk away from the men only to be stopped by those
hands yet again. This time, Tae isn’t as nice as to ask questions before
hurting the pair.
Tae is quick to twist both of their arms off of him, crossing them at angles
that are awkward for the two of them to be in. He kicks the one on the right in
the back of the knee using the heel of his shoe, sending him to ground. His
grip tightens on the one on the left, hurting the man’s dominate hand even
more. He lifts his leg again and kicks the man kneeling in the crotch. He knows
it's a low blow to hit below to belt, but they have his Kookie and he’ll do
anything to get him back unharmed.
 
 
                                * * * * * * * *
 
As Tae releases his anger on the two henchmen, Jungkook is still being held at
gunpoint by the woman they had been sent to keep an eye on. She ushered them
into one of the hotel’s many elevator and pushed the button for the top floor.
She instructs Jungkook to turn around and she pulls out a zip-tie from God-
knows-where. “Hands behind your back, child,” she whispers right into his ear.
He hides a shiver and complies. She secures his wrists together, pulling the
plastic tie hard enough for it to start digging into his skin. Rather than
taking her hand off of the end, she stays in that position and rests her head
on Jungkook’s tall shoulder. Any closer and his hand would be on vagina.
Nervous, Jungkook tries to maintain the playboy image everyone assumes about
him by standing still without a trace of emotion on his face.
Only when a cheery automated voice tells them that they’ve reached their floor
does the woman move away from him, finally giving him room to breathe. The
elevator stops moving and chimes. The doors open in the next moment, not giving
Jungkook enough time to brace for the hard kick that knocks the wind out of him
and sends him flying out and onto the carpeted floor. Rather than the doors
they had entered through opening, the ones that had been behind Jungkook had
opened.
Jungkook turns over from his stomach to his back, making a move to get back up.
 He freezes when he hears the safety of the gun click off and looks up at the
towering woman. “Good boy,” she praises. “You may get up now—slowly.” Jungkook
pushes off one of his elbows while tucking his legs under him to straighten up.
He feels one of her cold fingers loop around the plastic keeping his hands in
place. She directs him toward the sofas in the middle of the room. “Sit,” she
commands, nodding at the couch while sitting in the chair opposite of it.
“What's a boy like you doing at an auction for grown ups?” she asks, a
condescending tone in her voice. She waits for Jungkook to answer but the boy
just stares blankly at the wall behind her. Even without looking directly at
her, Jungkook can see her lustful eyes, obviously wanting to make the underaged
maknae feel uncomfortable. He feels her eyes tracing every part of his face and
his body, leaving a trail of heated embarrassment wherever they moved.
The woman only stops eyefucking Jungkook when the elevator dings, announcing
the arrival of another party. She gets up from her seat, practically gliding to
the doors. She stops when the doors open. “Seriously, you guys don't know how
take a joke,” a familiar voice chuckles. Out comes Tae, stumbling from being
pushed. Unlike Jungkook, his hands are tied in front. He's flanked by four men,
two of which display their messed up faces without much effort to cover them
up. Jungkook wants to smile, to smirk at the damage his hyung had done. But at
the same time, his heart aches at the sight of the bruise on Tae's cheek and
the tattered suit on his body.
Keeping up with the cocky, unconcerned façade, Tae brightens his expression
when he sees Jungkook on the couch, “Kookie!” Upon a quick scan, he sees that
the dongsaeng hasn't been hurt anywhere; swallowing a sigh a relief he turns to
the woman in front of him. Having been standing in place, he feels a harsh
shove on his back, pushing him into the room. “Hey, hey,” Tae scolds them, “no
need to push. Learn to use your words.”
“Welcome,” the woman greets him with a smile too big to be friendly. “You can
take a seat next to your friend over there.” Although he’s given permission to
be close to Jungkook, Tae nonchalantly saunters over to the couch and sits with
some space between him and his lover. The woman follows and reclaims her seat
facing the two. “Now to business,” the woman continues. Suddenly both Tae and
Jungkook can hear the sounds of guns clicking behind them. “Which one of you
should I kill first?”
Chapter End Notes
     Thanks for the comments everyone! <3 I really do love reading them.
     ^.^
***** Chapter 16 *****
“Brat, where the fuck have you been?” Yoongi scolds.
Without so much as asking permission, Jimin walks in swaying slightly with each
step he takes. “I had a life before I got dragged into this shit,” Jimin
retorts. His hip bumps into the sharp corner of Yoongi’s dresser. “Yah, watch
where you’re going,” Jimin yells at his reflection on the TV above it. Stepping
back, he lazily swings an arm at the TV only to hit the air. Only when Jimin is
close enough does Yoongi realize that the boy reeks of alcohol. Suddenly
Jimin’s eyes refocus on Yoongi as if he hadn’t been in the room since Jimin
walked in.
“Just so you know, for future reference, I get sent the IP addresses of
everyone that goes on the website. If they’re close enough, I deal with them
myself. For you though, I’ll make an exception.” He throws himself onto the
back of Yoongi’s seat, places a cold arm on one of Yoongi’s shoulder, and leans
his head over the other to face the computer. He covers Yoongi’s warmer hand on
the mouse with his own chilling touch and maximizes the browser he had seen
Yoongi try to hide. Jimin uses Yoongi’s hand and scrolls up the grid of videos,
looking for something in particular before coming to a sudden halt.
“This one,” Jimin slurs, hovering the cursor over the thumbnail, “this one’s my
favorite.” Yoongi manages to see that the video is over two hours long before
Jimin clumsily makes him double click the video and opens it. The video starts
with a young Jimin strapped to a wooden chair: arms tied to the back, eyes
blindfolded by a black cloth, and a bright red ball-gag in his mouth covered in
drool. His entire body is naked and covered in wounds. His legs are tied to the
chair’s armrests, allowing those watching a perfect view of his limp dick and a
butt plug in his ass. “Two hours, thirty eight minutes, and fourteen seconds.
That’s how long they raped me for. Wanna know what time they finally broke me?”
Jimin asks, taking hold of the mouse again, prepared to skip ahead in the
video.
“Jimin, stop. I don’t want to see this.” Yoongi tells him, prying the mouse
away from the boy and closing both the video and the website. For a moment, the
room is silent and air between them gets a bit thicker.
Jimin finally speaks. “D-Did you enjoy watching me?” Yoongi looks up at the boy
from his seat and notices the glint of tears starting to form in his eyes.
“No,” Yoongi replies immediately. “You really think I’m a psychopath that
likeswatching people get hurt?” When Jimin rolls his eyes, Yoongi gets his
answer. “Seriously,” Yoongi scoffs in disbelief. “Get the fuck out of my room.”
The boy doesn’t budge. “What? You got something else to accuse me of?”
“Have-have the others seen it too?” Jimin questions, his voice weak and
quivering with every word.
“No, just me and my stupid curiosity.” Yoongi’s expression softens. Why did he
have to click the link?
“Th-that’s good,” Jimin nods, taking in Yoongi’s words. “I don’t know what I’d
do if the rest of them hate me too.”
“Brat, I don’t—”
“Please, Yoongi, you can’t show them,” Jimin suddenly begs. He drops to his
knees in front of Yoongi, “please I’ll do anything you say. I’ll be a good boy
from now on. I promise.” He looks up at Yoongi with widened eyes and even bats
his lashes for good measure. “Please,” Jimin whimpers, slowly reaching for the
waistband of Yoongi’s sweatpants. Before Yoongi can react, Jimin is palming
Yoongi’s warm dick, gently gliding his thumb over the tip. “Yoongi.” In the
next moment, Jimin engulfs Yoongi’s entire length into his mouth.
“B-brat,” Yoongi sputters, “stop.” He takes hold of the boy’s orange hair but
that doesn’t stop him from hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head down.
Yoongi feels himself hitting the very back of Jimin’s throat. Suddenly the
sound of Jimin’s crying pleas from the videos rings in Yoongi’s ears and he
goes completely soft. “Jimin,” he calls the boy, gripping his a hair a bit more
tightly this time. He tries to slowly pull the boy off of him, careful not to
hurt his scalp; Jimin on the other hand doesn’t care for the tugging and
continues to suck his hyung off. Yoongi starts to get annoyed and pulls on the
boy hard enough to get his attention. Jimin, noticing the anger in Yoongi’s
expression, finally takes the hint and lifts his drooling mouth off. With one
hand still holding Jimin’s hair, Yoongi grabs a tissue and cleans himself off
before tucking everything back into his pants.
“I-I’m sorry,” Jimin tries, the pain from his head starting to sober him up. He
wipes the saliva off his jaw with the back of his hand. “I was bad. I should’ve
already known you like it a bit rough. We can do it your way; I don’t mind.
Just please don't show them the videos.” Pissed, Yoongi lets go of Jimin with
harsh throw. Still the boy doesn’t give up and shuffles back over to Yoongi on
his knees, awaiting his next command.
“What the fuck are you still doing on your knees, get up,” Yoongi tells him.
Like an obedient dog, Jimin shoots up.
“I deserve to be punished. S-Should I take my clothes off?” Jimin asks, a hand
already snaking under his shirt, “I mean, that’s unless you wanted to take them
off for me. Or w-we could do it with our clothes on? I-I know my body’s too
disgusting for you to look at but I’ll still do w-whatever you want.”
“Oi,” Yoongi mutters under his breath. He closes his eyes and massages his
temples, hoping that he has been dreaming. When he opens his eyes again, Jimin
is still standing there with his eyes wide and teary. Groaning inwardly, he
waves Jimin over. When the boy comes close enough, Yoongi takes hold of his
forearm and yanks the boy onto his lap. With one arm cradling his back, Yoongi
uses his other arm to throw Jimin’s legs up over one of the chair’s arms.
The boy yelps in surprise. “Y-Yoongi.”  
“Shh,” Yoongi replies, using his thumb to draw circles on Jimin’s sensitive
sides. “I won’t show them. I promise.” Hearing those words, the emotionally
unstable Jimin finally lets out a heartbreaking cry he hadn't realized he's
been holding. His hands take a hold of the fabric of Yoongi’s hoodie as Jimin
tries to curl himself further into Yoongi’s warmth. He sniffs to clear his nose
and gets a strong whiff of Yoongi's tantalizing scent. Shuddering, Jimin feels
the sudden urge to melt right in the elder's arms.
Yoongi’s thumb stops when he runs his calloused hand up to gently push Jimin’s
head to rest in the crook of the elder’s neck before moving to card his fingers
through Jimin’s hair. Jimin, in his drunk stupor, mentally curses for allowing
himself to be enveloped in Yoongi’s soothing presence. That hand dangling off
his legs is supposed to be the one Yoongi uses to wield the knife that gets
stabbed into his heart. The fingers playing with his hair and scratching his
scalp are supposed to be wrapped around his throat to squeeze the life out of
him. And that thing that Jimin still has the taste of in his mouth is supposed
to be used to humiliate him in his final moments. So why was Yoongi being so
nice to him?
“Jimin?” Yoongi speaks into the boy’s hair, immediately bringing Jimin out of
his own thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“You’re surprisingly docile when you’re drunk,” Yoongi chuckles. The small
vibrations Yoongi creates runs straight through Jimin, causing him to blush
worse than his Asian glow.
“I know,” Jimin murmurs quietly. That’s how some of those videos were made.
Jimin wants to tell Yoongi. He wants to tell Yoongi how many bottles of liquor
had been poured down his throat before some of those videos had been shot—how
many pills he’s had to swallow to keep an erection without being allowed to
come. He wants to tell Yoongi how they would often shove a dick down his throat
while there was still alcohol inside to get him to swallow. He wants to tell
Yoongi everything. But he can’t. Yoongi is the enemy—the one that would kill
him the moment his guard is let down. That’s right. Jimin remembers. It’s just
a rouse. A cruel joke that they’re playing on me. One day I’ll be hit with the
punchline. On that day, Jimin would experience his ultimate downfall.
Meanwhile, Yoongi is experiencing his own inner turmoil, trying to figure out a
way to reassure that he would never force the boy into doing something he
didn’t want—none of them would. No matter how Yoongi is to say it, Jimin
wouldn’t believe him, especially because it’s coming from him. Yoongi couldn’t
begin to imagine what the boy has gone through to get to this level of distrust
and he definitely doesn’t want to say anything that could make it worse.
Yoongi lets out a breath through his nose and gets tickled by the orange stands
of hair in return. Yoongi has a lot to say but only so few words would be heard
by Jimin. Pressing his lips together in contemplation, Yoongi looks down at the
boy in his lap, noticing that the boy hasn’t moved in a while. Only then does
he realize that Jimin has fallen asleep, his smaller hands still tightly
clutching Yoongi’s hoodie. Adorable,Yoongi finds himself thinking.
Slowly, Yoongi uses the heels of his feet to wheel himself from to his desk
without waking up the boy. He gets as close as he can to his bed and hoists
Jimin’s sleeping body up, clumsily trying to set Jimin on the bed. He tries to
move away, but the grip on his hoodie doesn’t appear to be getting loose
anytime soon. Sighing, Yoongi climbs onto the bed and reaches over Jimin to
turn off the lamp on his nightstand. The room goes dark, illuminated only by
the screen of Yoongi’s computer. Using that dim light, Yoongi drags the blanket
out from under both of their bodies and throws it over themselves.
“Good night, Jimin,” Yoongi whispers under his breath, letting his eyes fall
shut.This isn’t gonna end well for any of us.
 
***** Chapter 17 *****
“Honestly,” Tae answers with a completely straight face, “you should kill him
first.” Play along Kookie.
“Hyung!” Jungkook protests, getting the hint.
“What?” Tae asks, innocently, “you’re not even an adult yet so it doesn’t
matter if you die first.”
“With that logic shouldn’t you die first since you’ve already lived long
enough?” Jungkook retorts.
“Yah, you ungrateful brat,” Tae taunts. “You should be sacrificing yourself for
the sake of your hyung.” The two of them go back and forth a few more times
until they hear the shrill giggles of the woman they had been addressing.
She chuckles, clearly amused, “Who in their right mind would even hire you kids
kill me? I’m insulted.”
“Oh,” Tae says, taking the opportunity to change the topic away from execution,
“we weren’t hired to kill you at all. Actually I was the one that brought
Kookie here because our first month’s anniversary is coming up and I wanted to
get him something special.”
“I may have said it as a joke before, but do you seriously think that I’d
believe you two are an actual couple?” she cocks an eyebrow at Tae.
“It’s true,” Tae insists, nodding.
“Prove it,” the woman snaps, not wanting to admit being wrong. “Kiss him.” She
nods her head towards Jungkook who’s keeping his head down to hide his
reddening cheeks.
Tae shifts on the couch to angle himself towards the blushing maknae. “Kookie,
look at me.” He uses his hands to guide Jungkook’s head up to look him in the
eye. Knowing that Jungkook wouldn’t make a move in front of their present
company Tae quickly leans in and pecks Jungkook on the lips. “There,” Tae says,
turning his head to the woman.
“You call that a kiss?” the woman laughs, “my dog can kiss better than that.”
Tae shoots the woman a look while she waits for something more to happen.
Growling a little in the back of his throat, Tae throws his bound arms around
Jungkook’s neck. He leans his forehead against Jungkook’s.
“It’s okay, Jungkook,” Tae whispers to his lover, “Ignore the guns, ignore
everyone else and just focus on me, okay?” Jungkook gulps his response and
gives a small nod, closing his eyes at the same time. Tae uses his arms to pull
Jungkook a little closer until their lips are brushing against each other. The
moment Jungkook parts his lips a little to breath, Tae snakes his tongue in,
smashing his lips against Jungkook’s. Inside Jungkook’s mouth, the two’s
tongues fight for control.
All the while, Tae is using his cufflinks to saw through the zip-tie around his
hands, keeping the motion hidden by the hair on the back of Jungkook’s head.
When he feels them loosen enough for him to break, he drops the object,
directly into Jungkook’s hands. He too works on sawing through the restraint,
focusing on that rather than the heat rising that makes his ears a bright red.
Jungkook flicks his tongue up against the roof of Tae’s mouth to signal that he
was done and the two pull apart, panting for air. Tae looks at the woman
haughtily while Jungkook buries his embarrassment in Tae’s shoulder.
“Satisfied?”
“Very,” the woman smirks. “Kill that one.” She nods her head towards Tae and
the men behind them grab them by the shoulders to pull the two apart. As soon
as hands land on their upper bodies, both Tae and Jungkook snap their hands
free and go to work disarming the men. Jungkook grabs the hand on his shoulder
to twist it around behind its owner’s back and lunges over the sofa for the gun
in the man’s waistband as curses in pain. Tae on the other hand snaps the hand
off his shoulder, breaking it at the wrist and dives towards the woman. Before
she can get a shot off at the younger man, he’s already in front of her holding
a gun less than a centimeter away from her forehead.
Behind him, Tae can hear the grunts and curses of the men Jungkook is
skillfully taking care of. All the while, Tae doesn’t take an eye off the
woman, not even to blink. He was too furious for that. She threatened his
Jungkook. She was going to have him killed and separated from his Jungkook. She
would have to pay dearly for her words.
After shooting the last henchman in the kneecap, Jungkook disassembles the gun
as quickly as he had done with the other four. Looking at the aftermath,
Jungkook notices that Tae was nowhere near the scrimmage; only then does he see
the standoff of his hyung with the woman they had been hired to keep an eye on.
“Hyung,” Jungkook calls to him, furling his eyebrows when he doesn’t respond.
“Hyung.” He calls to Tae a few more times, cautiously moving closer so as not
to provoke him further. He’s only seen his happy-go-lucky hyung angry a few
times in the entire time that they’ve known each other, but he’s never been
this close to the rage.
Instead of talking his hyung down, Jungkook moves to the side of the woman,
easily taking the gun out of her hand. Imitating Tae, Jungkook raises the gun
to aim it at the woman’s temple. With Jungkook by his side, Tae finally allows
himself to breathe, closing his eyes to take in a large breath. When he opens
them again to look at the woman, the anger in his eyes have subsided. He
flashes his signature smile at the woman.
“I’m really curious,” Tae starts, “how did you know?”
“I got a phone call,” the woman responds easily, “said I was being watched.
Said I should be careful.”
“Who was the caller?” Tae asks next. Before the woman can answer, the sound of
glass breaking replaces her voice and she collapses with a single bullet wound
in the back of her head. Immediately Jungkook and Tae take cover away from the
windows, carefully maneuvering around the men writhing in pain on the floor on
their way towards the elevator.
When the doors of the elevators close, the two allow themselves to breathe a
sigh of relief. They hurry out of the building soon afterwards, more concerned
with their escape than with the identity of the caller who sold them out. They
would have the chance to investigate that at a different time.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Like always, Jimin wakes up with a start, out of breath and shaking. As usual,
his hand reaches under his pillow in search of his knives only to discover them
gone. Moments later he realizes that his pillow isn’t even a pillow. Rather it
is a pale, slender arm connected to the body beside him. Frantic, he scrambles
out from under the sheets only to throw himself off the bed entirely, landing
with an audible thud. Reorienting himself on the floor, Jimin looks up at the
towering bed and watches in horror as the blanket starts shifting.  
“What are you doing on the floor,” Yoongi mumbles, his morning voice somehow
deeper than his usual pitch. He peers down at Jimin with a heavy lidded eye
while his hand rubs the sleep out of the other.
“Stay away from me,” Jimin gasps, backing himself away. A hand flies to his
temple when his head suddenly starts throbbing and reminds him of what had
occurred during his drunken night. When he looks back up at the bed, he sees
Yoongi already sitting on the edge with this feet dangling off. Panicking,
Jimin throws the first thing he can reach on the floor and throws it at Yoongi
just as the older man plants himself on the ground. Without so much as
flinching, Yoongi catches the shoe with one hand and continues to approach the
shivering boy.
“Jimin, calm down,” Yoongi tells him, taking another step. Another shoe come
flying at his head but he catches that one just as easily. Jimin’s back hits
the wall but the boy doesn’t stop cowering in fear. He brings his knees into
his chest and ducks his head down between his elbows. “I’m not gonna hurt you,
okay? You’re having a panic attack and I’m pretty sure that hangover isn’t
helping you either.”
“I don’t care!” Jimin shouts back, flinching from the extra sharp pain in his
head when he had raised his voice. “J-just leave me alone.”
“You know that’s not gonna happen,” Yoongi retorts just as stubbornly.
“Why the hell not?” Jimin huffs.
“Because—” Before Yoongi can finish, he suddenly finds himself with his back on
the floor. Jimin’s foot passes dangerously close over his head as he scrambles
to get out of Yoongi’s room as fast as possible. Yoongi could’ve easily stopped
him but decided against fighting with the panicking boy in his room.
Jimin dashes out of Yoongi’s room and throws himself into his own, slamming the
door shut behind him. After locking it, Jimin’s legs give out as he slides his
back down the smooth wood until he’s settled on the floor with his back against
the door. He brings his knees in close to hug them, finding comfort in their
strength. Still, he doesn’t stop trembling. His breathing doesn’t slow. The
pounding in his head only grows louder and stronger.
Please make it stop.
Pathetic, you’re actually begging? The voice laughs in his ears, adding to
chaos.
Shut it. When the girl’s voice doesn't respond immediately, Jimin runs a hand
through his hair and lets out a much needed sigh of relief. He starts working
on trying to calm himself down by slowing his breathing. This isn't the first
time he's had a panic attack; but it is the first time someone has ever
witnessed him in such a vulnerable state. Burying his head in his arms, he
thinks that Yoongi's probably busy laughing at Jimin in his room next door. “I
fucked up,” Jimin whispers to no one in particular.
Jimin inhales a deep breath as he tries to get his thoughts together. Jimin
inhales a deep breath as he tries to get his thoughts together. Last night, he
had gone out to see a man about a certain something. The next thing he
remembers is getting a phone call from a blocked number and a voice that had
been distorted on purpose. There was a bottle of soju in each of his hands at
some point. After that he was sending something on his phone; to whom he
remembers quite clearly. As for why, he wouldn’t be able to say. Then he was in
Yoongi’s room giving the man a blowjob. Remembering Yoongi’s taste, Jimin’s
hand flies to his mouth.
Only then does he realize that he's wearing something that isn't his. Blinking
at the hoodie’s sleeves a few times, Jimin looks at the large garment. It's
definitely not his. He brings the sleeves to his face again and takes another
breath to get a better smell of the scent. He exhales with a small shiver,
realizing whose hoodie he's wearing.
That crisp, yet musky scent can only belong to Yoongi. Jimin knows he should
take it off and probably burn it. But it's sooo warm. He holds the ends of the
sleeves in his fists, savoring the coziness of the fabric. With his hands still
in the sleeves, he throws the hood on, surrounding himself with Yoongi's
calming smell. He can't help but to lean into the fabric of the hood, brushing
his cheek against the material to get a better feel of it. For the first time
in a while, Jimin allows himself to have a selfish thought. There was
absolutely no way that he would be giving Yoongi this hoodie back.
Little does he know that Yoongi had placed a plate of food on the outside of
his door, like he's been doing everyday this week. Along with “breakfast”, he
had placed a cup of water and a seltzer tablet for his hangover on the floor
for Jimin to find when he's calmed down. He knows that leaving his dongsaeng to
his own devices isn't the smartest idea but all he can do is wait for the day
Jimin opens the door and lets him in.
***** Chapter 18 *****
Jimin doesn’t come out of his room until long after the food at his door has
gone cold and Yoongi had placed it back into the microwave for him to reheat
later on. The loft is completely silent when he shuffles out to the kitchen
still wearing Yoongi’s hoodie. He spots the water and seltzer tablet on the
counter almost immediately along with a note. Food’s in the microwave. Even
without it having a signature, Jimin recognizes the scribble on the paper as
Yoongi’s handwriting. While Jimin forces himself to accept the alleviation to
his hangover, he doesn’t have the appetite to eat the food prepared for him and
ends up throwing it out and placing the dish in the dishwasher.
Suddenly, Jimin hears the jingle of keys and freezes up instinctively. “Yah, I
need a shower,” he hears Tae’s deep voice grumble. Recognizing the voice, Jimin
releases the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. The younger man
enters shortly after, followed by a tired looking Jungkook. “Yo,” Tae greets
him with a quick nod of his head and continues towards his room with Jungkook
in tow. In the midst of yawning, Jungkook waves at his hyung with the hand that
isn’t intertwined with Tae’s. Seems like the maknae all had a pretty rough
night.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Hearing the report from Jungkook and Tae, Namjoon had called an emergency
family meeting after dinner. The seven of them had cleared the dining table as
soon as the last piece of rice was eaten. Taking responsibility for their own
self-appointed chore, they reconvene in the living room when Jin deems the
dining room and kitchen spotless. They gather in the open area of the living
room, each claiming their usual seat on the couches and sofas. As always,
Namjoon, Jin, and Hoseok claim one of the couches, the maknaes the other, and
Yoongi in his armchair that he lazily slouches in with his legs thrown over one
of the armrests.
“As you all know,” Namjoon starts, “we’ve recently experienced a number of
‘irregularities’, so to speak.” He pauses for a moment, fighting the urge to
glance at Jimin, the cause of said oddities. “Jungkook and Tae’s most recent
assignment last night had been botched because someone tipped off their target.
Jungkook was attacked by someone who followed him all the way from school,
Jimin too. Not to mention the loft was broken into.”
“That I’ve already taken care of,” Yoongi speaks up.
“But that still doesn’t explain the rest,” Hoseok responds, more somber than
with his usual pep.
“Before I sliced up the bastard that hurt my Kookie, he mentioned meeting up
with a man who pointed out Jungkook as a dealer. Wonder what that’s about,” Tae
muses, twirling a piece of Jungkook’s dark hair around his finger.
“Based on the description you gave of him, Hoseok and I were only able to find
one close match with connections underground,” Namjoon reports.
“Too bad dude was already 10 feet under before we could even get to him,”
Hoseok mutters.
“Lucky man,” Tae growls.
“Do we have any other leads?” Jungkook asks.
“The people that broke in were looking for Yoongi,” Jimin tells them for the
first time since the incident.
“As I said, I’ve dealt with it,” Yoongi replies before any questions can be
asked about it, “move on.”
“Guess that’s a no then,” Jin sighs, answering the maknae’s question. “But,
there’s been a lot of buzz going around at the clinic lately. No one knows
where these phone calls are coming from but we’re definitely not the only one’s
they’re after.”
“So it could be completely random?” Jimin concludes.
“Or it could be someone trying to start a war or a less-than-friendly takeover
of our territory,” Yoongi corrects.
“Whatever it is we have to be more careful from now on,” Namjoon comments,
“until we figure out how information is getting leaked, we can’t do anything
too risky. So keep a low profile for now; no big jobs.” The five mumbles
something of an agreement while Jimin sits cross legged on the couch in
thought. As everyone disperses, Jin looks back at Jimin who still has yet to
make a move to leave.
“Jimin, you okay?” Jin’s voice stops Namjoon too.
“I’m fine, hyung,” Jimin replies immediately, “just thinking.”
“Okay, if there’s anything you ever need to talk about, please don’t hesitate
to share, yea? We want to help you,” Jin tells him.
“That’s right you can trust us,” Namjoon adds with a nod.
Trust?“You told them?!” Jimin accuses Yoongi, shooting up from his seat. The
older man, who’s already at the entrance of the hallway leading to the
bedrooms, stops and turns to face his accuser with a scowl.
“You really think I did?” Yoongi scoffs.
“You aren’t denying it,” Jimin points out.
“Yea, I did. I told them. Told themeverything,” Yoongi answers plainly. “Is
that what you wanted to hear? We don’t keep secrets from each other.”
“It wasn’t your secret to tell,” Jimin spits, marching up to Yoongi and giving
him a harsh shove. Immediately the surrounding boys step in to separate the two
before their actions can escalate any further.
“Yah, you fucking piece of shit—” Yoongi gets cut off when Jungkook pulls him
back away from Jimin. He takes a breath while shaking Jungkook off him. “I
really should’ve put you out of your misery when you begging for it.” Yoongi
pushes past his dongsaengs and slams his bedroom door shut, oblivious to the
wound he had inflicted on Jimin in the process.
“Jimin,” the boys look towards the orange haired man. With tears glistening his
eyes, Jimin keeps his head down and shakes Namjoon off of him before making a
beeline towards the door. Even after the door stops echoing from how hard Jimin
had slammed it, no one makes a move to follow him.
“Joonie,” Jin whispers, slipping a hand into his boyfriend’s.
“They’ll be okay,” Namjoon replies. “We’ll be okay.” He give Jin’s hand a
reassuring squeeze, knowing full well that he was doubting his own words.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“Yoongi?” the man hears a knock on his door. Almost twenty minutes after their
argument, Yoongi is still fuming in rage while sharpening his own set of
knives.
Which is why he replies with a very harsh, “Go the fuck away.”
“Yoongi, you need to come see this,” Jin tries again.
“What part of ‘go the fuck away’ did you not understand?” Yoongi snaps.
“Yoongi, I am your hyung. Open this door right now,” Jin yells, using the
hyung-card to his advantage. Not a moment later does Yoongi’s door open on its
own, revealing Yoongi in his swivel chair, rolling back towards his desk.
“You owe Jimin an apology,” JIn tells him flat out.
“And why the fuck would I do that?” Yoongi laughs.
“Because you broke your promise to him,” Jin states.
“Would you rather that I didn’t tell you then?” Yoongi retorts.
“No you did the right thing in doing so, but you made it seem like everything
was his fault in the first place.”
“It is his fault! How do you think I even found out about it in the first
place? He fucking emailed me while he was drunk off his ass.” Jin stops himself
in shock. “Yea,” Yoongi continues, looking at the surprise in his hyung’s face.
“He sent that link to me on his own. He even played one of the videos for me.
You should know by now that he’s just trying to play the victim again.”
Jin closes his eyes and takes in a breath, processing this new information.
With his eyes still closed, he responds, “Victim or not, you did promise that
you weren’t going to say anything, did you not?”
“What do you want me to do? Go search the entire city of Seoul to find one
person just to apologize for helping him?”
“You don’t need to,” Jin replies in a quieter voice. “He’s upstairs bawling his
eyes out and beating the shit out of a punching bag, ranting about how he
thought he could trust you.” He leaves without another word, leaving Yoongi to
think about the gravity of his words weighing down on Jimin.
Yoongi takes a moment to calm down before logging into his computer. Curiosity
gets the better of him as he pulls up the security feed of the loft, going back
to right after his argument with Jimin. He watches as Jimin reaches the loft’s
elevator without anyone to stop him. He steps in and closes the door before
reaching for the button to bring him to ground level. For some reason, he
freezes instead of just pressing it. Not a moment later does he snap out of his
trace and slam his fist into the button for the upper floor to the training
room.
Selecting his floor, Jimin stumbles back until he bumps into a wall to use as
support for his body weight. When the elevator stops, it takes Jimin a while to
make a move towards the door. Switching camera perspectives, Yoongi sees Jimin
stepping into the training room and walking up to the punching bag left
dangling the middle of the room.
Without any hesitation, Jimin begins delivering blow after blow to the helpless
sack. Jimin punches relentlessly for what seems like hours before wearing
himself down and stopping. He lands one final punch on the bag, one with no
sense of strength behind it. That’s when Jimin’s knees give out and he slumps
to the ground into a squat, trembling. From a different camera angle, Yoongi
can just barely see the streams of tears coming from Jimin’s eyes. The room is
silent, only interrupted when Jimin lets out a heart wrenching scream in
frustration.
“Stupid!” he yells, slamming a fist into the floor. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”
He pauses to sniffle, using the balls of his hands to wipe the tears away.
Yoongi watches those hands travel up past his temples and finally stop to
clutch at the strands of orange at the back of his neck.
“How could I have been so stupid?” Jimin asks in a quieter voice that makes
Yoongi’s heartache. No. Yoongi isn’t supposed to have a heart. He’s supposed to
be a cold-blooded killer. He shouldn’t be feeling anything, especially not
guilt or pity, towards his mark. When he looks back at the screen, he sees
Jimin just squatting there, sobbing quietly by himself. Again his heart skips a
beat.
“Fucking shit,” Yoongi mutters under his breath. He pushes himself away from
his desk, bolting up from his seat as soon as he has space to do so. He rushes
to the door, throwing it open. He steps back, surprised to see Tae passing by.
Still, he pushes past and runs to the loft’s door.
“Hyung,” Tae calls to him from his bedroom doorway, stopping Yoongi in his
tracks. “He left already.”
***** Chapter 19 *****
 
“What do you mean he left?” Yoongi asks, more frantic that he would’ve liked to
sound.
“He left almost ten minutes ago,” Tae clarifies. He notices the drooping
expression on Yoongi’s face and adds, “I think Namjoon hyung asked Hoseok hyung
to tail him, though.” Giving Yoongi a small smile, Tae slips into his room
without another word.
“Namjoon!” Yoongi calls, trying to gage where his dongsaeng was.
“Living room!” A response comes almost immediately.
“You sent Hoseok after Jimin?” Yoongi questions. He sees Namjoon and Jin
sitting on the couch directly opposite of the TV enjoying whatever new drama
was playing.
“Problem?” Namjoon answers, an eyebrow quirking up in surprise at Yoongi’s
concern.
“Damn right there is,” Yoongi retorts. “Why didn't you tell me he left in the
first place?”
“You didn’t exactly seem all that interested in matters relating to our
houseguest.” Namjoon may be younger than Yoongi but he was right, as always.
And Yoongi doesn’t want to admit it but he suddenly cares about Jimin after
finding out his story. Before Yoongi can come up with something to say in his
defense, a low vibration interrupts their conversation.
Looking down at the phone on the couch, all parties can see that Hoseok is the
one calling. “That was quick,” Namjoon greets him with the phone on speaker.
“I’m coming back. There’s seriously something not right going on,” Hoseok pants
from the other end. The three of them look at each other with the same
expression on their faces. Why does it sound like he’s running?
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Of course Namjoon had been watching the security feeds when Jimin departed from
the training room. Seeing how he had helped himself to a few of the knives up
there, Namjoon had thought it’d be a perfect opportunity to collect some intel
on Jimin and had Hoseok tail him.
And tail him Hoseok did. All the way to the warehouse where he had gotten a
front row seat to the bloodbath performed by none other than Jimin. Staying in
the rafters, Hoseok had watched Jimin enter the warehouse with no sense of
danger or even urgency. Having pulled open the door in a grand entrance, Jimin
had sauntered in without a care in the world.
Hoseok had counted at least thirty men, all armed with their own weapons. When
Jimin walked in, he hadn’t asked any questions, much less addressed the people
in the room. No, he worked quickly and a bit too efficiently for Hoseok’s
liking, receiving barely any damage on his own body. He watched as Jimin used
both techniques that Hoseok had personally taught him and ones that Hoseok
still had trouble pulling off. How was Jimin so good at killing people? And how
does he do so so ruthlessly?
Finally, after a mirage of bloodshed, Jimin had gotten down to the last man.
 After much anticipation and agony on the man's behalf, Jimin kills him off
with a quick slice to the throat, causing the warm red to splatter and add to
his painted clothes. Jimin looks down at the body bleeding at his feet, the
corners of his mouth itching to form a smirk. Instead, he swallows a deep
breath to tame himself and speaks loudly enough for the sound to echo in the
silent warehouse, “Enjoy the show?”
When he receives no response, he picks up the dead man’s knife, spins around,
and launches it at one of the overhead scaffoldings behind him, a warning as to
how precise Jimin’s aim is. The blade gets lodged into the wood but the room
remains quiet. Hoseok had been quick to move from his hiding spot; but no
matter. Jimin finds another blade on the floor and sends that to the beam
directly beside the first.
This time Jimin manages to catch a glimpse of the shadow as the man flees from
the knife. “You probably weren’t expecting this right?” Jimin asks, looking at
the pile of bodies at his feet. “Everyone’s pure, innocent little Jimin.
Probably would’ve never imagined seeing me covered in someone else’s blood
again, hmm?” Again, he is met only with silence.
“Hey,” Jimin continues, regardless of Hoseok’s unease, “if-if I apologize to
Yoongi for overreacting, do you think he’ll-he’ll forgive me?” Jimin looks down
at his bloodstained hands. “A-And everyone else too? Would you forgive me too?
For being a bad boy? For not telling the truth and deceiving you all?” Jimin
lets out a sad chuckle that sends a chill down Hoseok’s spine. “Probably not,
right?” Hoseok has to get out of here; something is definitely not right with
Jimin. He knows that there's obviously some sort of trauma Jimin has been
fighting with because of what happened when he was younger. But Jimin's
bloodlust could only be comparable to Tae’s when he's angry.
“You know, if you just came down, we could go home together,” Jimin suddenly
suggests, staring at his reflection in the pooling blood. “Oh.” Jimin's voice
softens. “Wait.” The realization hits Jimin harder than he would have liked it
to.
“A-Am I even allowed to come home anymore?” Tears start to come to the boy’s
eyes without his permission. He shouldn’t be sad. He brought this upon himself.
Everything’s his fault in the first place. Everything got fucked up because of
him. It’s what he deserves after all.
“You should start heading out first,” Jimin finally speaks again, trying to
keep his voice leveled. “I’ll be a while lighting this place up.” With the
tears threatening to slip out, Jimin isn’t confident his voice won’t crack and
reveal weakness. “Maybe if I bought ice cream back, I could come home?” he
squeaks. Jimin manages to give himself a little hope, but the ears which had
been listening had already left with the older man’s retreat. He bends over one
of the men on the floor and lifts the bloodstained blazer in search of a
certain square indent. Finding his wallet, Jimin rummages through the leather
and pulls out an ID card and the few crumpled bills.
Jimin collects the remaining IDs and cash off the few dozen corpses before
piling them together in the center of the room, the moonlight creating the
perfect spotlight for Jimin’s grand finale. Retrieving his bag from the
entrance, he changes out of the bloodied clothes into a freshly washed
oversized black hoodie and grey joggers, careful to avoid getting any blood on
himself. He’d had this bag packed for some time now but never imagined that
he’d have to use it so soon. Recently, Jimin had considered putting Yoongi’s
sweater into this getaway bag but has instead kept it laid out on his pillow
back at the loft.
Jimin uses the dirty clothes to wipe what blood he can off his hands and face
and grabs a water bottle filled with a special mixture of chemicals from the
bag. He douses the pile in the liquid, using most of the bottle to get the most
coverage. As he makes his way around the bodies, he notices the slightest
twitch of a hand near the bottom. Ignoring it, Jimin drenches his clothes in
remainder of the substance and lights the fabric on fire with his favorite
lighter before tossing it onto the mountain of bodies. Ducking under the door,
he leaves in silence as the bodies catch fire and start to burn. He pulls the
door close behind him and locks it, knowing for a fact that that one man would
start screaming from the pain any time now.
Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and inserts his earbuds into his ears.
To his surprise, Jimin had forgotten to pause the music before arriving. Just
as the song reaches its climax, a bloodcurdling scream rings out from the one
man, only to be left unheard and drowned out by Jimin’s music; as a killer
Jimin had been smart. He had dragged all the bodies by the wrists, feeling for
any remaining pulses at the same time. If only that man had known how to hide
his heartbeat from Jimin; then the boy wouldn’t have had cause to put him on
the bottom of the stack. He has become irrelevant anyway as he would definitely
die from inhaling the smoke long before the fire department could arrive.
Tragic.
 
===============================================================================
 
On the walk home, Jimin manages to find a single 24-hour convenience store.
Stepping inside, Jimin causes the bell on the door to ring as he pushes it
open. The cashier immediately flinches awake at the sound, cheeks turning pink
seeing Jimin enter. Ignoring her quickly combing out her hair with her fingers,
Jimin walks over to the refrigerators and grabs a few bottles of soju for
himself, a few cartons of ice cream, and a handful of popsicles to share with
everyone else.
Jimin approaches the flustered cashier and asks for a few candy bars as well;
as she gets the candy for him, he starts eying the security camera over the
cash register. Stifling a chuckle, he notices the broken wire dangling from the
camera; without the slightest hesitation, he pulls out the slightly bloodied
cash stolen from the bodies and hands the cashier a rather large, rather bloody
bill. By the time she realizes the reason for the bill’s discoloration, Jimin
has already told her to keep the change and opened the door with the chime
synchronized to her horrified scream.
Jimin pulls out a bottle of peach soju as he walks away from the store. He
opens the bottle with ease and brings it to his mouth. Gulping down most of its
contents, Jimin quenches a thirst he didn’t really he’s had since he left the
loft. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and continues towards what
he hoped he’d still be able to call home. Wonder if Hoseok made it back
already, Jimin finds himself thinking. With a shrug, Jimin picks up his pace,
suddenly remembering the ice cream in the bags.
                                        
                                        
                                * * * * * * * *
                                        
A few minutes later, Jimin finds himself stepping out of the loft’s elevator
without much memory of how he’d gotten there. His eyes finally focus when he
sees the door leading into the home. Suddenly he freezes. What if they don’t
let me back in? He ends up taking two steps towards the door before turning
back towards the elevator. As he turns the bags in his hand shuffle together
and remind Jimin of their presence. Oh, right. The ice cream. Scratching his
head, Jimin looks from the bags to the door, thinking he hadn’t bought enough.
He opens one of the bags, intending on taking the ice cream out to make himself
more presentable. The moment his hand touches one of the popsicles, his heart
stops.
It’s melted. They’re all melted. Jimin had taken too long getting back to the
loft and everything that he had bought had melted. There was no way they’d let
him back in now. Not when he has nothing to show for himself. He failed. Before
he can start crying, Jimin figures he should at least offer what’s left of the
ice cream. Shaking from being so close to tears, Jimin shuffles up to the door
and hangs the bag of ice cream on the doorknob.
Jimin turns away almost immediately, his chest hurting from looking at the door
for too long. He almost makes his way back to the elevators when he hears the
door open behind him.
 
***** Chapter 20 *****
Following Hoseok’s return, Namjoon calls to order yet another emergency
meeting. As always, everyone is in their usual seats. Somehow it feels just a
bit nostalgic, reminding the six of a time before Jimin was a part of their
lives. When everyone is settled, Namjoon connects his phone to the flat screen,
interrupting the broadcast of a girl group performing on a music program.
“As you all know, we’ve been suspecting something about Jimin for a while now,”
he starts. “Firstly, there’s the break in and the missing footage from the
security cameras of the incident.” He taps his phone’s screen a few times and a
video pops up on the TV. “It’s not missing anymore.” The video begins playing
on Namjoon’s command which comes in the form of another tap. The six of them
watch as Jimin scurries around the loft, borrowing the sniper rifle from
Namjoon’s room and positioning himself at various windows. They skip through
the blowjob Jimin had been forced to give but resume watching when Jimin takes
the lamp that has since been discarded and smashes it over the man standing in
front of him. They watch as he quickly dives for the gun and sends two precise
shots into the head and chest of the man in the kitchen.
Fast forwarding past Jimin’s ten second interrogation of the man on the floor
at Yoongi’s behest, they witness Jimin moving the bodies from outside up to
their loft, dragging them and arranging them how he’d wanted them to be found.
They see the small smirk playing on Jimin’s lips when he hears Yoongi’s voice
and plops himself onto the floor before plastering on a pitiful expression.
Namjoon pauses it when he and Jin entered the home.
For a moment, everyone is quiet, trying to process what they have just seen.
 Tae’s the first to speak, “Excuse my language, but what the fuck was that?”
Despite that opening phrase, Jin still shoots the younger man a look for
cursing.
“He’s been playing us this whole time?” Jungkook asks, sounding a bit
heartbroken.
“Seems like it,” Jin agrees.
“I did a little more digging,” Namjoon continues, pulling up an image of a
familiar looking building. “This is the apartment that Jimin lived in.” He
changes the image. “This is what it looked like less than an hour after our
visit. There was a single casualty,” another picture. “A man was found beaten,
tied to a chair in a basin of kerosene, and burnt to death in the very
apartment Jimin went into. No traces of a dog anywhere.”
“A few nights ago, Yoongi had seen a video of Jimin killing a boy with his
barehands and then being gangraped right after,” Namjoon says, not sugarcoating
anything. “We can chalk up all of Jimin’s actions and lies up until now to
trauma from what happened to him as a teen.”
“But that still wouldn’t explain how he became a cold-blooded killer at such a
young age,” Hoseok adds. He pulls out his own phone and hijacks the TV from
Namjoon. The six of them sit around watching the massacre like seeing a fight
scene in an action movie. From the video alone, it’s easy to see that Jimin
could easily be on par with Yoongi. Even when the fighting stops and Jimin is
done killing, the video doesn’t end yet.
Hoseok pauses it nonetheless.  “He’s far more dangerous than we’d anticipated
him to be,” Hoseok concludes.
“That’s for sure,” Tae mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.
“So what do we do now?” Jungkook asks, looking at his hyungs for a decision.
His eyes wander from person to person until they ultimately land on Yoongi, the
man with the most animosity towards Jimin—the man who’s been completely silent
since they all sat down.
“What’s on the rest of the video?” Yoongi looks to Hoseok.
“He’s just talking to himself,” the dongsaeng replies.
“Play it.” Without questioning him, Hoseok taps his screen and the rest of the
video begins to air. Collectively they hear Jimin speaking to Hoseok, now
sounding like he’s speaking to all of them.
“Enjoy the show?”The tone of voice Jimin uses is enough to send chills down all
their spines. Namjoon recognizes that voice from Jimin’s interrogation of the
man who had broken in. Yoongi remembers it from video of Jimin he had
mistakenly watched. Hoseok, he knows it from the day he had to stop Jimin from
beating the man that had shot Jungkook; and just like that time, he’d been in
the same room as Jimin tonight when he had spoken like that.  
“He made you?” Namjoon comments, more concerned with how deceptively perceptive
Jimin was. Hoseok nods as the video shakes from him dodging the knives Jimin
had thrown at him.
“He knew exactly where I’d been hiding,” Hoseok notes, explaining the video’s
disturbance.
“You probably weren’t expecting this right? Everyone’s pure, innocent little
Jimin. Probably would’ve never imagined seeing me covered in someone else’s
blood again, hmm?” Again the way Jimin speaks makes him sound more amused than
scared that he’d been found out. If only the expression on his face hadn’t
betrayed him and showed his real emotions.
“If-if I apologize to Yoongi for overreacting, do you think he’ll-he’ll forgive
me?” Yoongi ignores the glances from his friends when he hears his name. He
wouldn’t have heard what they were saying to him anyway. His heart is pounding
too loudly in his ears. Inside Yoongi’s head, a war is being waged trying to
figure out whether or not Jimin’s emotions were real or if he was just being
played again. The latter’s happened quite a lot lately, certainly more than it
should have been.
“A-And everyone else too? Would you forgive me too? For being a bad boy? For
not telling the truth and deceiving you all?” Jin glances at everyone in the
room, each boy feeling sympathy for the pitiful Jimin. Being the oldest, he had
always been the one to watch over the five boys. Seeing Jimin on the TV brought
back memories of when each of the other boys had worn that exact expression on
their faces. Each one asking for forgiveness. Knowing that, Jin realizes that
they probably all have their own answers; but Jin knows what he’d say. He’d say
the same thing he’s always said. He’d say yes. That he’d tell Jimin that he
loves him enough to forgive him because that’s what family is. That’s what
their family is.
“Oh. Wait. A-Am I even allowed to come home anymore?” That question snaps
everyone out of their thoughts as the video finally comes to an end.
“Is he coming back?” Tae speaks first, looking as if he’d just smacked a
newborn puppy in the face.
“I left before him,” Hoseok shrugs, unsure of the answer. Suddenly a ping on
Yoongi’s laptop interrupts their deliberation.
“A traffic cam picked him up two blocks away from here,” Yoongi announces.
Immediately Namjoon retakes control of the large screen and displays the feed
from the security cameras from around their loft. Sure enough they see the
orange hair cutting out of one video to another, walking sluggishly towards the
loft. The bounce in his usual step is completely gone. His eyes are puffy and a
faint red. In his bloody hands are a few plastic bags that seem to weigh the
boy down even further down than his emotions do. If they didn’t know any
better, it would’ve looked like Jimin was trying to melt into the concrete
sidewalk.
Before long he’s exiting their elevator and standing in the hallway before
their door. “What’s he doing?” Jungkook asks the question on everyone’s mind
when they see him stop outside. They watch him reach into one of the bags and
see what little color remaining on his face drain as soon as his hand
disappears inside the plastic. He drags himself up to their door. They all look
towards the door in anticipation. Instead of knocking or using his key, Jimin
hangs the bag in his hand on the door knob, visibly trembling to keep himself
from crying in front of the camera. He turns around to walk away but Yoongi’s
already on his feet.
No way is Yoongi going to make the same mistake twice that night. He isn’t
planning on letting Jimin get away this time. Hastily, Yoongi throws their door
open and dashes outside just in time to catch Jimin just before his legs stop
supporting his weight.
“H-Hyung,” Jimin hiccups, trying to form a coherent word through his tears. “I-
I’m sorry, hyung.” Jimin’s full on sobbing into Yoongi’s shirt now, not even
noticing that he’d finally called Yoongi his hyung. From the close proximity,
Yoongi can practically taste the alcohol in Jimin’s voice. Ignoring it for now,
Yoongi allows Jimin to hold onto him as he cries. Unable to continue holding
both of them up, Yoongi lowers to the floor with Jimin tight in his arms. “I-
It's all melted,” Jimin bawls.
“Hmm? What's all melted?” Yoongi asks in a quiet voice. Under the guise of
comforting Jimin, Yoongi quickly pats him down, finding the knives he’d
borrowed hidden in Jimin’s baggy sleeves. Jimin tries to respond but all Yoongi
hears is babbling. “C’mom Jimin, use your words. What's melted?”
“The-The,” Jimin stutters, struggling to form words. He manages to lift an arm
and u point at the bag that Tae had taken off the doorknob. Hoseok looks inside
and pulls out one of the melted popsicles.
“Ice cream?” Yoongi guesses, looking at Jimin for an affirmation. The boy nods
into Yoongi's shirt, staining it with tears. “We can always refreeze it, right?
We don't have to eat it now.”
“But-But,” Jimin continues to mumble.
“Yea,” Namjoon adds, “plus we still have so—” An elbow in the side from Jin
stops Namjoon from reminding Jimin that there’s already ice cream in the
freezer. Knowing Jimin, Jin knows that he’d probably think he messed up again
by buying something in addition to what they already have as an attempt at
making amends. While Jimin sniffles and tries to breathe, Yoongi slips the
blades out, careful not to startle the boy, and slides them away towards the
other boys.
“Jimin,” Jin's speaks using his soothing voice, “why don't you come inside
first?”
Jimin starts shaking his head vigorously, ignoring the lightheadedness he feels
when he does so. “I c-can’t. The ic-ice cream.” Reminded of his blunder, Jimin
starts to shake even harder, the tears streaming out of his eyes even faster.
“We’ll refreeze it tonight and eat it tomorrow, okay?” Yoongi suggests, rubbing
circles on his back. Hearing the idea, Jimin nods slightly and uses his hands
to rub the tears out of his eyes.
“Y-Yoongi?” the younger boy’s voice squeaks, going back to the informal speech.
He shifts so he’s kneeling on the floor now.
“Yea?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Jimin repeats. “I’m sorry. I was b-bad. I’m sorry.” The
apology continues with Jimin pressing his face onto the cold ground only to die
down when Jimin starts his next wave of tears. Still he tries to apologize,
slurring the words together with his sobs.
“Shhh,” Yoongi hushes him, rubbing circles on his back. Moments later, Yoongi
moves his hand to Jimin’s hair and continues his ministrations to comfort him
and says the words that the younger boy is begging to hear. “I forgive you.”
***** Chapter 21 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The boys eventually manage to get sobbing mess that is Jimin into the loft. Tae
takes the ice cream inside and puts them into freezer while Hoseok hides the
bottles of soju in a false bottom of one of the kitchen’s cabinets. Jin helps
display the candy that Jimin had forgotten about buying on the coffee table for
whoever wants any. Meanwhile, Yoongi has taken Jimin to the bathroom to wash
the tears off his face as well as the blood off his hands; Jin would’ve done so
and left the candy to Yoongi had Jimin been able to let go of the hem of
Yoongi’s shirt since he’s gotten inside.
When the two emerge from the bathroom, everyone else has already settled into
their seats, still warm from their previous meeting. Jimin, still experiencing
the effects of the alcohol playing with the guilt in his head, timidly hides
behind Yoongi like a scared child. Treating him as such, Yoongi announces,
“Jimin has something he has to say to you all.” All eyes land on Jimin if they
hadn’t already been there. The boy tries to make himself small behind the
thinner man to no avail. Eventually Yoongi has to nudge Jimin forward towards
the group sitting in anticipation.
“You all took me into your home and treated me as an equal. You trusted me and
I betrayed you.” In a single swift motion, Jimin folds at his hips in a deep
bow. “I’m sorry for lying to you all. I’m really, really sorry.” Jimin’s voice
trails off as his hysterics start again and tears begin to well in his eyes no
matter how tightly he’s squeezed them shut. “I know I don’t deserve anything
from you guys,” Jimn continues, sniffling between his words, “but I am will to
earn your forgiveness, if you will have me.” Jimin pauses to wipe away the
tears threatening to drip off his face. “I’m truly sorry for everything.”
“Yah, enough apologizing already,” Yoongi scolds him, pulling Jimin to
straighten up before he can get onto his knees for a deeper bow. Yoongi leads
him to his cushioned chair while Jimin uses his free hand to wipe his face.
Yoongi sits down with a bounce and motions for Jimin to take a seat as well.
However, instead of sitting with Yoongi on the chair as the older man had
expected him to do, Jimin plops himself down on the floor at Yoongi’s feet,
resting his head on Yoongi’s knee like a dog would to its owner.
In the midst of his crying, Jimin doesn’t notice the other boys glancing at
each other in silent agreement. Suddenly, a tissue appears in Jimin’s blurred
vision and Jimin’s heart can’t help but skip a beat. His eyes trail up from the
tissue, following the veins of the arm extended out to him and finds a grinning
Tae at the other end. When Jimin does nothing but stare, Yoongi has to reach
down and open Jimin’s hand to take the tissue from the younger boy.
“W-Why,” Jimin tries to ask, still hesitant about using the tissue.
“Because you’re one of us,” the eldest replies. “We’ve all made our mistakes.
We’ve all taken our turns asking for forgiveness. And that’s what family does.
We’re not scared to make mistakes because we know that we can ask to be
forgiven.”
That’s how Jimin ends up learning about the rest of the boys’ pasts, and how he
ends up spilling his life story to them. In the end there isn’t anything but
warmth and comfort between the seven boys, sitting in their living room telling
stories.
Well played, Jimin. Well played. But the game isn’t over yet is it, oppa?
 Not by a long shot.
Chapter End Notes
     I was highkey tempted to end this work at the last chapter and start
     a new one to create a series....but y'all probably would've freaked
     out with that cliffhanger until I actually posted the next chapter;
     lol lemme not.
     As always thanks for the kudos, the love, and the feedback. Congrats
     on making it this far because I didn't actually think that I'd have
     this many chapters. No idea what's gonna happen now because I haven't
     written the next installments....or have I? (hehe)
     (Also feel free to subscribe [it apparently allows you to get email
     notifications for when works are updated and posted])
***** Chapter 22 *****
Tossing and turning in bed, Jimin can't seem to find sleep anytime soon. He'd
done everything he could to get comfortable: flipping his pillow to the cold
side, lying in bed with a foot out from under the blanket. Hell, he even put on
Yoongi's hoodie. Still he just couldn't fall asleep—not with everything that
had happened that night.
Yawning, Jimin manages to inhale what little scent still lingers in the black
fabric. Instinctively, he snuggles his nose closer to the hood, trying to get a
better smell. He sighs, disappointed that the intoxicating smell had
disappeared so quickly. He tries smelling the sleeves and the collar in an
attempt to catch a whiff of the hoodie’s real owner. He lets out a soft whine
when he's unable to find any part that still smelled like the older man.
In the next moment, Jimin throws the blanket off to the side and swings his
legs to the edge of the bed. Before he even realizes what he's doing, he feet
have brought him to Yoongi's shut bedroom door. Jimin stands in front of it,
more nervous than he thought he'd be. His heart rate starts to increase with
growing number of butterflies in his stomach. Feeling like a fool, Jimin spends
a few seconds stepping towards the door only to step back immediately after.
“Should I go inside first so I can answer the door when you knock?” The husky
voice startles the shit out of Jimin enough to make him flinch in surprise.
Yoongi hadn't been able to sleep either, not after hearing the tale of Jimin's
fucked up life. He'd gone out to get a glass of water, closing the door behind
him as he always does. On his way back, he'd seen Jimin shuffling his feet in
front of his door, oblivious to his presence.
Cuute.  Yoongi had thought, seeing Jimin in nothing but his hoodie and probably
a pair of boxers underneath. While Jimin had been lost in his thoughts, Yoongi
had managed to slip behind him, waiting for Jimin to notice him. When he
hadn't, Yoongi had decided on scaring him instead. He had definitely made the
better choice. That little jump that Jimin had done was too adorable for Yoongi
not to repeat over and over in his head, thinking about other ways Yoongi could
get that reaction out of him.
“H-Hyung,” Jimin stammers. He hadn't thought about the possibility that Yoongi
wasn't in his room. He hadn't even thought about what he would’ve said to
Yoongi when he opens the door.
“Can't sleep either?” Yoongi guesses. Jimin answers with a quick nod, looking
down at his feet in so Yoongi couldn't see the embarrassment on his face from
being scared. Only then does Jimin notice how exposed he is in what little
clothes he’s wearing. With only his boxers on, only to be covered by the large
hoodie, his legs are almost entirely exposed. To top off the outfit, he's
standing in front of Yoongi with the hoodie that Jimin had kept from Yoongi
after the first time they had slept together in the same bed. Looking as
shameless as he does, a heat quickly starts to rise on Jimin's face, starting
from his cheeks and moving up towards his ears.
While Jimin's busy examining his feet, Yoongi moves around him to his door. He
opens it with the hand that isn't carrying a glass of water before looking back
at Jimin. The younger boy still hasn't moved since being caught. “Coming in? Or
are you just gonna stand there until morning?” The question snaps Jimin right
out of his obsession with his toes. He looks up to match Yoongi's eyes, gaging
the authenticity of the invitation.
In Yoongi's eyes, Jimin’s plump lips are pursed into a small pout, those glossy
eyes going wide, and that growing blush on his cheeks and ears; that’s a face
that Yoongi deems too delicious to go unrewarded. On a complete whim, he moves
to give Jimin a quick peck on the tip of the boy's nose. “Good night, Jimin.”
Yoongi walks into his room, relishing in the different expressions Jimin had
made in the past few minutes of their encounter.
Outside, Jimin's eyebrows start to sag a bit after the initial surprise of
Yoongi's kiss. There is a sense of finality with Yoongi's “good night”, like
the man was telling him to just go to sleep. However, Jimin quickly realizes
that Yoongi hadn't bothered to close his door as he  always  does. Catching on
to the implications, Jimin cautiously steps inside sliding in one foot after
another. With the dim light from the hallway, he can see that Yoongi had
already gotten into bed, turned on his side away from the door. But there is
definitely space left on the mattress for Jimin to climb in too.
“Close the door.” Jimin hears the gruff voice from the pile of blanket that
Yoongi has become one with. Little did the boy know that on the other side of
that blanket is a coy smirk playing on the edge of Yoongi's lips. His plan to
coax Jimin into his bed had worked. With his back turned, Yoongi now has to
rely on his ears to determine the timing of his next move. He hears the click
of the door when Jimin closes it and counts the soft  pat’ s that Jimin’s feet
makes on the floor as he walks to the bed.
Eight steps later and Yoongi feels the bed slowly dip from Jimin's weight.
Slowly, Jimin lifts the duvet, trying hard to stall long enough to get his
heart rate down before Yoongi can feel it. He slips his legs on the bed first,
followed by his torso. By the time Jimin's head hits one of Yoongi's many
fluffy pillows, Yoongi has failed to keep the wide smile off his face and is
full on grinning to himself because of how timid the boy has been acting.
 Yoongi knows that he wouldn't be getting any tonight; the timing just isn't
right. Still, feeling a lack of body heat, Yoongi can’t help but pout at how
Jimin had laid down at the very edge of the mattress. Yoongi himself has more
than enough space to spare on his side having purposely slept closer to the
middle so Jimin would be forced to sleep close to keep from falling off.
“Why are you all the way over there?” Yoongi huffs. It takes a few breathes
before Yoongi feels the mattress shifting as Jimin silently moves closer by
hardly an inch. In order to prompt the boy into moving where Yoongi would like
him, the man turns over to face Jimin’s back and throws an arm over Jimin’s
torso, eliciting a cute little yelp from the younger boy.  
The suddenly bashful Jimin freezes at Yoongi's touch, unsure what to do with
himself. Regardless, Jimin finds himself settling into the warmth of Yoongi’s
arm quickly enough and allows himself to let out a breath he hadn’t realized he
has been holding. Just when Jimn thinks he can fall asleep, he feels Yoongi
slowly pulling him closer. “Hyung,” Jimin stutters, “what are you doing?”
“Making sure you don’t fall off the bed,” Yoongi simply says. He doesn’t stops
pulling Jimin closer until his nose brushes against the strands of Jimin’s
hair. “Better,” Yoongi mumbles, burying his nose into the soft orange strands.
Noticing that Jimin has been using his shampoo, Yoongi does his best to keep
from growling in approval of the boy smelling like him. Jimin, on the other
hand, is feeling awkwardly trapped between the mattress and Yoongi’s arm,
unsure of how to fix his posture and allow himself to relax.
In a moment of bravery, Jimin takes a deep breath and shifts away from Yoongi
just a bit; he flips onto his back and then finally to his other side to face
Yoongi who has kept his eyes closed the entire time. Jimin’s breath hitches
when he realizes what he’s just done. Never before has he been so close to the
older man. It’s been awhile since he has seen Yoongi’s face relaxed and not
scrunched up scowling at him. In his sleep, Yoongi looks more serene and calm
than he ever does when he’s awake, confirming that his state of rest is his
most natural state.
“Hyung,” Jimin whispers, tempting Yoongi to open his eyes at look at him. Jimin
watches as Yoongi’s otherwise motionless body rises and falls with his
breathing and assumes that he’s fallen asleep quite quickly. Jimin moves a bit
closer to Yoongi’s warmth, testing whether or not the elder is actually asleep
or not. When he still receives no response, Jimin’s eyes can’t help but fall on
the man’s pink lips. Often times, Jimin has seen Yoongi licking them to keep
them moist while drying them out at the same time. Having drank water before
getting into bed, it’s no wonder that Yoongi’s lips are looking oddly more
enticing than usual, calling to Jimin.
Jimin takes one last glance at Yoongi’s eyes, begging for a sign so he doesn’t
embarrass himself should Yoongi be awake. When he receives nothing—not even a
slight twitch, Jimin goes for it. It’s really quick and their lips barely
connect before Jimin pulls back, but he had done it. He has to hold his breath
in to keep from cheering out loud.  I just kissed Yoongi!  However, before he
can even begin to celebrate, he feels a small tremor coming from the older man.
To Jimin’s horror, Yoongi’s lips move, the corner of one side curling up into
its signature smirk. “Is that all?” the deep voice growls, sending vibrations
straight down to Jimin’s dick. Jimin feels his face getting even hotter when he
sees the tip of Yoongi’s pink tongue snakes its way around his lips, licking
the area where Jimin’s lips had been just moments ago. Yoongi finally opens one
eye to take in the gorgeous expression on Jimin’s face. His lips are pulled in
into a pout, innocent eyes getting wider by the second. His cheeks are a
brilliant shade of pink that Yoongi now deems his favorite color aside from
black.
Yoongi’s arm draped over Jimin finally moves to hook around the boy’s neck and
pull him closer. “Don’t,” Yoongi starts, placing a chaste kiss on Jimin’s pout.
“Ever.” Another kiss. “Show anyone.” Kiss. “That.” Kiss. “Expression.” Kiss.
“Besides.” Kiss. “Me.”  With that last kiss, Yoongi manages to coax Jimin’s
lips out from between his teeth and gives him a proper kiss on the lips. It
takes everything Yoongi has to keep his lips tight and stop from going any
further than a few kisses.
“Yoongi,” Jimin whispers, nudging the elder’s jaw with his nose.
“Another time, baby boy,” Yoongi replies. “Sleep time.” He shifts himself a
little higher on his pillow so Jimin can snuggle into his chest, which Jimin
does. Yoongi’s arm over Jimin moves back around his waist while the other rests
near the top of Jimin’s head. Yoongi allows Jimin to snake his legs between his
own and adjusts the blanket for the two of them. “Comfortable?” Yoongi looks
down at Jimin clutching at his shirt. Jimin gives him a quick nod and Yoogni
places a final kiss on Jimin’s forehead. “Good night.”
Jimin murmurs back his reply, “Good night, hyung.”
***** Chapter 23 *****
“Good morning, Princess,” Namjoon groans as he wakes up. He props himself up on
an elbow to look down at Jin who had woken him up in the best of ways. There in
between Namjoon’s legs, just barely covered by the blanket, Jin is quite
diligently swallowing Namjoon’s morning wood. The elder’s eyes trail up the
length of Namjoon’s body to stare innocently at his boyfriend, his talented
tongue freezing from having actually woken up the other man. The dick in his
mouth throbs as Namjoon savors the image before him. His gorgeously wanton
hyung’s cheeks have started to heat up from the embarrassment of being caught
in the act while those stunning eyes are glossed over and staring at him in an
attempt to hypnotize him further.
Namjoon uses the arm not holding him up to bring a hand into Jin’s light brown
strands, glad that his hyung had decided to let it grow out since the last time
he’d dyed it. Namjoon’s hand gently scratches at the older man’s scalp,
encouraging him to continue. Without removing his mouth to give Namjoon a
proper morning greeting, Jin shows his appreciation by tilting his head further
down, slipping Namjoon’s entire length into his mouth. While he contracts his
throat around Namjoon’s tip, Jin’s nimble tongue gets to work licking the veins
towards the base. All the while, Namjoon’s long fingers massage Jin’s head,
occasionally stopping to lightly tug at Jin’s hair.
“So good, baby,” Namjoon gasps, his voice as husky as ever. He slides his hand
down, brushing hair out of Jin’s face. “So good.” Jin hums at the praise,
sending small vibrations straight to Namjoon’s leaking tip. Since he’s just
woken up, it doesn’t take much for Namjoon to feel it coming—that heat building
at the very pit of his stomach. “Hyung, I’m close,” Namjoon manages between his
quickening breath. Hearing that, Jin lifts his head, allowing his tongue to
drag along the bottom of Namjoon’s member, before dropping himself back onto
the warmth. Namjoon lets out of a loud moan when he feels himself hitting the
very back of his boyfriend’s throat. Delighted by the sound, Jin does it again.
And again. And again, speeding up with every repetition. “Babe.” Namjoon’s hand
tightens around Jin’s hair, giving the elder fair warning of what was coming.
Soon after, Jin bobs down hard, pushing Namjoon over the edge and he comes.
Hard. It has been a day since the last time the two of them had partaken in
sexy-time activities, but Jin’s blowjobs are always legendary at bringing
Namjoon to the most amazing high. His hand doesn’t stop petting Jin’s hair as
the other swallows down the heat flowing into his throat, delicately licking
Namjoon through his orgasm. Namjoon snakes his hand under Jin’s chin to guide
the man off. Unsurprisingly, the sight makes Namjoon’s junior twitch just a
little, getting ready for more.
With the hand under Jin’s chin, Namjoon sits up and guides the man closer on
his hands and knees. He leans forward to lick up the drool at the corner of
Jin’s plump lips before pressing his lips against Jin’s own set. Almost
immediately, Jin’s lips part and Namjoon slips in with perfected ease. Their
tongues dance together, giving Namjoon a small taste of himself inside his
lover’s beautiful mouth. The tip of Namjoon’s tongue glides along the inside of
Jin’s, eliciting a satisfied moan from the elder. Namjoon’s large hands move
down to Jin’s ass and gives both cheeks a worshipping squeeze. The man in his
hands releases a small yelp of surprise which Namjoon greedily swallows.
The hands travel down further past Jin’s clothed ass to grip the insides of his
thighs. With a single pull, Namjoon gets Jin out from between his legs and onto
his lap with a little bounce. “Damn, I love you so much,” Namjoon coos, looking
up at the man. Jin’s arms land around Namjoon’s neck pulling the younger man
closer; Namjoon’s mouth leaves Jin’s and start kissing a trail down to the
hyung’s delicious neck.
“I love you t—” Namjoon cuts Jin off by biting down on the man’s neck.
“Joonie!” Jin gasps. Joonie’s teeth easily break the soft skin as Namjoon
expertly begins to mark up what is his. Meanwhile, Namjoon’s hands knead the
perfect globes on his lap. He notices the hardened bulge pressed against his
stomach, leaking through the fabric between them.
“Lift your hips for me, princess?” Namjoon murmurs against Jin’s darkening
neck. He looks up at the lustful expression on his hyung’s face, proud that
he’s the reason for it. Jin complies, gasping when he feels the warmth of
Namjoon’s breath when the dongsaeng mouths at his cock through his boxers.
“Mmm,” Jin moans, clawing at the back of the blonde’s head. “M-more, Joonie,”
he pants, “I want more.” Namjoon lets out a low chuckle at the crack in his in
prim hyung’s sweet voice. With a single pull, Namjoon releases Jin’s dick from
the restrictive boxers. His hands resume their kneading, this time touching his
skin directly while he uses his tongue to lick at the tip of Jin’s member.
In his pleasure, Jin doesn’t even notice Namjoon slowly lowering himself—not
until he’s jolted forward by Namjoon and his ass hits something different.
Before he can even open his eyes, Jin feels his ass being spread bringing him
pleasure from the slight burn of being stretched. Then the lips touch him,
kissing that spot right between his asshole and his dick. Finally looking down,
he finds Namjoon under him, specifically his face.
“J-Joon, what are you doing?” Jin asks. WIth a small growl, Namjoon slips his
tongue out and starts lapping at the clenched ring of muscle. Little by little,
Jin starts to relax, opening himself up for Namjoon. When that sinful tongue
finally enters, Jin all but comes on the headboard. “Joonie,” he moans,
starting to rock against Namjoon’s tongue. The man throws his head back and
arches his back into the touch, having to grab the headboard in order to keep
himself upright. Namjoon’s pink tongue relentlessly attacks the hole, licking
around the entrance, entering inside, getting closer and closer to that bundle
of nerves that can set Jin off.
Focusing solely on the pleasure in his ass, Jin doesn’t notice when Namjoon
reaches a hand up towards one of the hard little buds under Jin’s shirt. Giving
it a small tweak causes Jin’s ass to clench reflexively, causing Namjoon’s
tongue to get trapped in place. Jin relaxes again after slapping away Namjoon’s
hand with a playful, “D-Don’t do that.” Jin can feel Namjoon’s mouth widen to
smile at the elder’s sensitivity.
Satisfied with the amount of saliva coating the inside of Jin’s hole, Namjoon
shifts his head from the hole while replacing his tongue with two fingers
slicked with his own precum. “Baby, do you want to come once before—?” The
question gets drowned out by the loudest moan Jin’s made so far thanks to
Namjoon’s fingers pressing on the man’s prostate. Still Namjoon gets his answer
in the form of cum raining onto him and the headboard. Coming down from his
high, Jin hunches over to breathe; he finally opens his eyes only to see a smug
looking Namjoon still between his legs and licking up the cum that had landed
on his lips. Immediately, Jin’s cheeks start burning again, glowing red with
embarrassment.
To prevent Jin from hiding his face in shame, Namjoon takes hold of Jin’s hips
and flips him onto the mattress. Breathing heavily, Jin tries to keep his eyes
open to see Namjoon stripping off his shirt and tossing it aside; like always
Jin doesn’t have the voice to scold his dongsaeng for being messy with his
clothes in his room. Namjoon easily takes a hold of both of Jin’s wrists to
keep them down at his rising stomach. Still the older man tries to hide, biting
his lower lip and turning his head to the side. “I love seeing you like this,”
Namjoon whispers directly into Jin’s ear, having leaned down over the man. His
voice ghosts over the shell of Jin’s ear, sending a wave of chills straight to
Jin’s already hardening dick.
While placing chaste kisses on Jin’s parted lips, Namjoon’s hands release him
and tug at the hem of the slightly shorter man’s shirt. Jin let’s Namjoon pull
it off along with the boxers rolled down on his thighs. After getting all of
the other’s clothes off, Namjoon kicks off his own pair of boxers and moves
down to pepper Jin’s perfect body with kisses. A skillful hand takes a hold of
Jin Jr. while the other slowly presses at and massages Jin’s hole to relax the
man. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Namjoon curses when Jin arcs his back into
the touch of Namjoon’s lips at his belly button.
“Fuck,” Jin echoes, ignoring his own no-cursing policy. Namjoon has three
fingers inside of him by now and his other hand hasn’t stopped working at Jin’s
throbbing length. “Namjoon,” he whines, rutting into his boyfriend’s hand.
“Yes, baby?” Namjoon teases, his voice dark with lust.
“I need you,” Jin cries, arching his back off the bed. This time, their lips
collide messily—sloppy and wet and full of hunger and desire. In his position
on top of Jin, Namjoon releases Jin’s twitching cock and starts stroking his
own member to get ready for this next part.
“Ready?” Namjoon pulls away first to give Jin time to breathe. The hyung gives
a curt nod, eager to be filled by his dongsaeng. “Alright,” Namjoon pants,
lining himself up. “Stop me if it hurts, okay love?” Even after all these years
that they’ve been together, Namjoon never fails to remind Jin to speak up if
Namjoon’s hurting him. Although Jin always responds with an “I’m fine.” Jin’s
heart can’t help but swell every time Namjoon says it.
Jin snaps out of his thoughts when he feels Namjoon’s leaking tip pressing
against him. He tries to force himself to relax so Namjoon can enter faster;
his partner knows that Jin’s prone to do so only to fail and knows not to fall
for it. Namjoon has taught himself to be patient with Jin, as patient as Jin
needs him to be even if it isn’t what the man wants. He knows that Jin
instinctively relaxes the outer ring of muscle to get Namjoon to  enter as soon
as possible. He knows that Jin is doing that for him, but also knows that
entering will only hurt Jin in return. So instead, Namjoon sits back on his
knees and runs his length along Jin’s ass until the man relaxes for real.
Only then does Namjoon enter—never before. When he does, Jin’s body accepts him
wholeheartedly without any hesitation or resistance. The elder’s face always
contorts into a fleeting delicacy that Namjoon uses his 148 IQ to try to
ingrain in his memory. Even with the preparation, Namjoon had still used lube
to prevent any pain and ensure that Jin would only feel pleasure. And he
does—being stretched by Namjoon has become one of Jin’s most favorite pastimes.
“God,” Namjoon mutters, slowly pushing in further, “what did I do to deserve
you?” With that Namjoon completely sheathes himself inside Jin, angled to hit
the man’s prostate. This time, Jin releases a breathy whimper of pure pleasure.
To allow Jin to adjust to his size, Namjoon begins nosing at the man’s sharp
jaw, occasionally licking the skin underneath it. He shifts his hips a bit to
pull himself out a little bit before folding to hit Jin’s prostate again. He
does this a few times, making sure Jin gets uses to the length and girth of
JoonMon. “More,” Jin eventually begs, tired of being tormented by such a slow
pace.
“You sure, baby?” Namjoon has to make sure before letting go.
Annoyed by the number of questions he’s been asked so far, Jin takes hold of
the strands of blonde at the sides of the younger’s head. He brings Namjoon’s
face close enough to smell, which he does. With a smile dancing on Jin’s red
lips he answers, “Just fuck me already.”
***** Chapter 24 *****
Instead of pulling out after the third? fourth? round, Namjoon sits and swings
his legs off the bed with Jin still sitting on his lap, catching his breath
against the younger man’s chest. “That was amazing,” Namjoon breathes into
Jin’s hair. Looking down at his hyung, Namjoon can tell that Jin’s starting to
feel tired from how long they’ve been going at it. Namjoon had made plans for
today—plans that would be better enjoyed if Jin is able to walk on his own.
“Bath?” he suggests. In his haze, Jin manages a small nod against Namjoon’s
pecs, tickling the man with his hair. Namjoon moves his hands from Jin’s bottom
and trails his fingers up the elder’s arms. “Hold on tight, princess,” Namjoon
tells him, bringing Jin’s arms around his own neck. He waits for Jin to
register the request, only moving to stand after feeling the arms tighten
around him.
Easily, Namjoon gets up from the bed and uses his arms to keep Jin up around
him. He shuffles to the bathroom, knowing that none of the other boys would
dare be anywhere near it or their bedroom at a time like this. He kicks the
door close with his foot and walks over to the tub. Shakily, Namjoon steps
inside the wide bathtub and lowers himself until his ass touches the cold
porcelain. He reaches forward to turn on the water, making sure that the water
is a nice warm temperature before flipping the tub stopper in place.
As the tub fills up, Namjoon whispers words of praise and admiration into Jin’s
ears. He holds Jin close by keeping his arms wrapped around Jin’s slim waist;
he draws circles on Jin’s skin with his slightly calloused thumbs. Jin,
enveloped by Namjoon’s love, all but purrs from Namjoon’s ministrations. God he
feels sooo loved in his man’s arms. Reluctantly he lifts his head from
Namjoon’s chest and looks up at the younger man.
“Hey there,” Namjoon smiles down at him, looking right into the glossiness of
Jin’s eyes.
“Hi,” Jin replies, delighted by the expression on his lover’s face. As always,
Namjoon’s perfect dimples are showing on either side of his lips. His eyes make
him look like he’s glowing, ecstatic from being so infatuated with Jin. The
expression must’ve been too much for Jin to handle because the next time he
blinks and opens his eyes, tears start to flow out.
Namjoon’s smile disappears immediately, “Baby what’s wrong?”
Jin hadn’t even realized that he was crying until Namjoon had asked him that.
He sniffles and blinks away the rest of the tears. He unlinks his hands behind
Namjoon’s neck and wipes at his eyes. “I’m okay,” he chuckles, trying to sound
as convincing as possible. “I’m just—I’m just really happy.” He smiles up at
Namjoon to reassure him of his happiness.
“You sure?” Namjoon questions. He lifts Jin’s chin with his hand to get a
better look at his hyung. He brushes away a stray tear that Jin had missed with
his thumb, stroking Jin’s soft cheek in the process.
“Mhm,” Jin nods, hugging Namjoon.
“Okay,” Namjoon says, believing Jin. “Let’s get clean, yea? I have a big day
planned for us.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
After their bath Namjoon pulls out two large paper bags, one for him and one
for Jin. He takes his to the bathroom and leaves Jin in their room to get
dressed. Inside the white paper bag, Jin discovers a pink cotton button up from
his favorite brand, a pair of jeans ripped at the knees, and a long jewelry
case inside. Having put on the the shirt and the pants, Jin opens up the
jewelry box, practically blinded by the diamonds on the ears Namjoon had gotten
him. Along with the earrings are a set of silver rings, each with their own
intricate yet minimalist designs. He removes the earrings he has on now and
puts on the new ones, amazed by how much they shine. He selects a simple silver
ring with no engravings on it and slips it onto one of his index fingers,
stunned by how well it fits.
Based off of the casual—well “casual” for Jin—clothes, the man can't figure out
what it is Namjoon could've planned. Little did he know, Namjoon has been
struggling with his hair in the bathroom all the while he gets dressed.
Surprised Namjoon isn't out of the bathroom yet, Jin goes to knock. “Joonie?
You okay in there?”
“Yea, honey,” Namjoon calls back, trying to pretend like Jin's voice hadn't
caused him to knock over a shelf of Yoongi's hair supplies. “Just needa wash my
hands real quick.” He turns on the faucet so Jin doesn't hear him scrambling to
pick up everything that had fallen, hoping that he was quick enough that his
lover wouldn't get suspicious. Without bothering to line anything up on the
shelf, Namjoon whips his attention back to the mirror. Hair done. Clothes
perfect. Teeth clean. Breath minty. Anything missing? Namjoon asks himself
nervously. Nope. He runs his hands through the water to simulate having washed
them; turning off the water, Namjoon wipes his hands on his pants and turns to
face the door. Leaning close to the wood, he can hear the faint sound of Jin's
shaky breath. “Alright. Ready?”he asks through the door, glad that his hyung is
equally as nervous as he.
“Yea,” Jin replies, “come out.”
“On a count of three. One.” Namjoon puts his hand on the door knob. “Two.” He
twists it to unlock it. “Three.” He swings the door open and suddenly his legs
are weak. He takes a step back in awe at Jin.
“What?” Jin questions, worry in his tone. “What happened?”
“You're more gorgeous than I could've imagined,” Namjoon breathes. He takes a
hold of Jin's hand to admire the fit of the ring on the index finger.
“What this?” Jin teases, using his shoulder to hide his obvious blush. “It's
just something my boyfriend got for me.”
Immediately, Namjoon's attention shoots up but an equally mischievous smile
dances on his lips. “Oh yea? Well he must be one helluva lucky guy.” He places
a kiss on Jin's new ring, relishing the touch of cold metal to keep himself
grounded.
“Oh definitely,” Jin continues, “he's this really tall Korean dude with blonde
hair and the sexiestdimples.” This time Jin pulls Namjoon in close, reaching up
with his free hand to fix the collar Namjoon's blazer. Underneath, the man had
chosen to wear a plain white t-shirt, finishing off with a pair of blue denim
jeans with matching knee holes.
“If you keep talking like that, I might just get jealous,” Namjoon smiles,
pretending like he isn't the boyfriend Jin speaks so highly of. “If that
happens, I guess I'd have to steal you away from Mr. Sexy Dimples.”
“Hmm,” Jin acts like he contemplates such an idea. “I don't think I'd mind if
it was you.” Giggling like a newly formed teenage couple, Jin and Namjoon lean
in to taste the person they love, if only for a brief moment.
Namjoon pulls away first, reminded by a nagging voice that they're on a
schedule. “We should go before I end up ripping these new clothes off of us and
taking you back to our bedroom,” he muses.
“I don't think I'd mind,” Jin whispers against Namjoon's closed lips.
“Tomorrow,” Namjoon promises. “Today, I'm taking you out.” He slides out of the
bathroom with his hand intertwined with Jin's. He leads them to the living room
where he has yet another surprise.
“You two are disgusting.” The grumbling voice snaps the couple back into the
reality in which other people exists around them. In the living room is a large
pile of a blanket with just a bit of mint colored hair poking out of it.
Jungkook had left for school earlier that morning; Tae and Hoseok had gone to
their jobs at the convenience store and family restaurant, respectively.
Neither of them had thought to kick Yoongi out of the loft before they had done
the dirty.
“How long have you been here?” Jin interrogates, slightly afraid of the answer
he'd receive.
“Since whatever round it was when hyung was on top,” the blanket mutters.
Truthfully he had moved outside after hearing their bedroom door slam close; he
had known what was coming and moved outside as quickly as humanly possible.
Under the blanket, a large mass shifts and part of it falls to the carpet.
“Mmyoongi,” a soft voice murmurs. It's owner stirs for a moment longer before
settling against the older man and going back to sleep.
“Is that Jimin under there?” Namjoon whispers, trying to hold in his laughter.
“Shut it,” Yoongi bites back. So what if he had tried to warn Jimin about what
was happening across the hall? And yea, Jimin had been such an adorable sleepy
head that Yoongi had to practically carry him outside to keep the angel from
waking up and losing sleep.
“It's okay,” Jin half wheezes, “we didn't hear or see anything and neither did
either of you.”
“Yea, yea.” Yoongi agrees, slumping down lower on the sofa. “Just leave
already.” He lifts the edge of the blanket over his head and tells himself to
go back to sleep beside Jimin and ignore the sound of the loft’s door closing
as Namjoon and Jin leave for their anniversary date.
“H-Hyung?” Jimin mumbles in his sleep. "Whahappened?”
Yoongi smiles and runs a hand through Jimin’s hair. “It's nothing Jiminie; go
back to sleep, okay?”
“Mmkay,” Jimin sleepily consents, snuggling in closer to Yoongi’s chest. If
either Jin or Namjoon had pulled back the blanket, they would've found both the
boys in what are technically Yoongi’s shirts and boxer briefs. They would've
seen the them with their legs intertwined like any couple that sleeps in bed
together, clinging onto each other because of their infatuation. They would've
seen Jimin desperately gripping at Yoongi’s shirt in order to stay connected to
him, if not for love then for a sense of safety and security. If they had
lifted the blanket, Yoongi would have definitely had to pull out his gun to
make them swear that the image they'd see would follow them to their graves.
***** Chapter 25 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Another few hours later and Yoongi finally wakes from his sleep, cursing about
the sunlight bleeding through the blinds and directly onto his face. His
internal clock tells him that he needs to wake up soon if he’s going to follow
through on the plans he had agreed to in the first place. Still, he brings an
arm up to block the light from his face so he can go back to sleep only to
shiver from the cold of moving it in the first place. His eyes trail down and
he realizes that his arm’s sudden cold is due to it leaving the warmth of
Jimin’s body heat. He vaguely recalls it being wrapped comfortably around the
waist of the boy practically sleeping on top of him. Using that feeling, he
replaces his arm, hoping to find the same warmth again.
This time, it’s Jimin that stirs. Yoongi feels a tug on his shirt and sees
Jimin sluggishly pulling himself up closer to him. The boy stops when his head
his right underneath Yoongi’s chin and settles into the crook of Yoongi’s neck,
tickling the older man with his orange locks. With Jimin so close, Yoongi can’t
help but tilt his head down to get a blissful whiff of his shampoo mixed with
Jimin’s scent. He finds his eyes closing again, his arms hugging Jimin just a
bit tighter to hold him close. He breathes into Jimin’s hair, loving the
feeling of the strands tickling his nose.
For a few moments of pure serenity, Yoongi just lies there breathing in the
intoxicating smell of the boy. “Mm,” Yoongi hears a groan and feels the
vibrations of the boy’s voice on his chest. Next comes what Yoongi has
discovered to be the most adorable yawn in the world that melts into a sweet
whine. After a beat, Jimin stirs again, flexing his legs to stretch himself
out. “Hyung.” Jimin’s voice comes out slurred, husky, and oh so sexy. “Please
stop sniffing me.” Yoongi let’s out a deep chuckle at Jimin’s cute request and
moves to card his hands through Jimin’s hair.
“Don’t want to,” Yoongi tells him, leaning in for another smell. “Especially
not when you’re starting to smell like me.” At that Jimin lifts his head from
Yoongi’s neck and looks at the man through half-lidded eyes. He blinks
slowly—deliberately, to give Yoongi a look of What the fuck are you saying?
“How’re you feeling?” Jimin’s head hurt, throbbing in sync with the beat of his
heart. Unfortunately, the pain just reminds him of the events that had
conspired the night before.
God, I’m an idiot. That night Jimin had revealed to the Bangtan Boys the story
of his past, how he had come to be so fucked up in every literal and figurative
meaning of the phrase. He had told them about his fucked up parents who had
started training him to kill since he could walk. He had talked about how the
birth of his little sister had killed his mom. How his dad became an alcoholic
and sold him and his sister to a gang that profited from making snuff films
starring kids just because he didn’t want them anymore. How he ended up having
to kill his dad just to escape that life. He had been sure that the recent
attacks on the boys were sponsored by some of Jimin’s influential former
“owners”, the sadistic bastards that lovefucking with his life and everyone in
it.
But Jimin hadn’t spilled his life story for nothing. He had found out that
Yoongi had worked as a host under the name Suga. The business had been
legit—the clients, not so much. One particular client had taken a rather
unhealthy liking to Yoongi. As a result, the man dropped by the club nightly,
pestering Yoongi to indulge in a night of “fun” after working hours. Because
the club paid a pretty penny—which Jimin assumed went into buying the loft and
other expenses, Yoongi had been in no position to tell the man to go fuck
himself; instead, all he could do was “politely” decline, using the hosts’
policy as a shield to hide behind.
Well, that excuse got fucked up when the man actually paid the owner of the
club to make Yoongi an exception to whatever “policy” prevented the man from
fucking him. On more than one occasion, the man had forced Yoongi home with him
to engage in threesomes with the man and his wife—a petite little Chinese girl
he’d bought from a friend of a friend of a friend. Something like that.
Hoseok used to be a runner, admitting that the man that had shot Jungkook was
probably looking for him; the man that had sent him, probably his his old boss.
He’d done it for the money, all shuttled towards buying their home as well as
other necessities. Jimin had been sure Namjoon and Jin had their own stories
too—thinking that the elders had worked hard to make sure the maknaes wouldn’t
have to. But neither of them spoke of their pasts, and Jimin knew better than
to ask. Jimin almost feels a bit warm, relieved from having finally told
someone about what happened to him. With the alcohol that had been going
through his system, he remembers having told them the truth—well, most of it.
Finally showing your true colors, Jiminie?
No idea what you could possibly be thinking of.
Oh, I think you do know. You’re gonna do what you’ve always done best. You’re
gonna play these people like pawns, not giving a shit whether or not they’ll
end up dying in the process. Brilliant as always Jiminie.
You have no idea what you’re going on about.
You forget oppa, but I’m the one that understands you best.
Shu—
“Jimin?” Yoongi’s voice pulls Jimin out of the argument in his head. Right.
Yoongi had asked him a question.
“I’m feeling a bit better,” Jimin mumbles, “I have a headache, though.” He puts
a pout on his face and tries to bury himself further into Yoongi’s chest,
letting his hair graze the underside of Yoongi’s chin.
“That does tend to happen to lightweights who drink too much,” Yoongi chuckles,
ruffling the boys hair. Again Jimin lifts his head to shoot Yoongi a look,
failing at his attempt to look even remotely threatening with his tired
expression.
“I hate you,” Jimin retorts, pursing his lips into an annoyed pout.  
“You can hate me later,” Yoongi says, pushing himself up to sit with Jimin
still on him. “We have to get going.” He nods at the clock on the wall, the
hands ticking towards 12:17. This time, Jimin’s face scrunches up in a confused
look. “I’ll explain on the way, promise.” He gives Jimin a small kiss on the
lips and tosses the boy onto the sofa with a bounce. “Let’s go.” He holds a
hand out to help Jimin get up from the seat but the boy only slumps down even
more, his back sliding against the back of the chair until his shoulder lands
on the seat beside his. “Jimin.” Yoongi uses a more stern tone this time. As
much as Yoongi would’ve loved to crawl back onto the cushions to cuddle with
Jimin, there are more important matters to attend to.
“Carry me,” Jimin whines, acting like a child to Yoongi’s parenting. Looking at
the boy sprawled out on the couch with his arms lifted to wrap around him,
Yoongi contemplated giving a simple one word response and walking away to brush
his teeth. Yet instead of doing so, his feet bring him back to Jimin, his arms
wrap around the boy’s torso, and he’s suddenly carrying Jimin to the bathroom,
bridal style.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Rather than take Jin to a fancy, expensive restaurant where he’d be paying for
the “experience” rather than the food, Namjoon had opted to take Jin to
Gwangjang Market instead. Knowing how much of a foodie Jin is, Namjoon can’t
help but smile watching his boyfriend hop around from stall to stall,
practically drooling at each one. The very first stall they stop at is run by
an ahjumma selling ddukbokki. Only when admiring the food does Jin realize that
he hadn’t grabbed any cash with him before leaving. He thinks about walking
away, leaving the ddukbokki for another time. But it looks so good.
Hesitantly, he turns to Namjoon standing behind him. “Mm,” he sighs, “Joonie?”
Jin looks up at Namjoon with wide eyes, unsure whether to ask the dongsaeng for
some cash or to ask him to go somewhere that accepts card. Without missing a
beat, Namjoon pulls out his wallet and hands the ahjumma some bills. She
returns Namjoon his change and hands the ddukbokki to Jin. Of course, Namjoon
had known that Jin hadn’t taken any cash with him; he’d purposely rushed Jin
out the door before he could. “I-I’ll pay you back when we get home.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that when we go to bed tonight,” Namjoon whispers into
Jin’s ear. Namjoon knows how much hates owing people money, and owing them in
general. But there was no way in hell he’s letting Jin pay him for their date.
As fucked up  as it is, by suggesting bed-related favors, Namjoon can give Jin
the sense of “returning the favor” without actually paying for anything that
Namjoon willingly wants to buy or do for him. In all the years that the two of
them have been together, Namjoon still hasn’t figured out a way to get Jin to
lower his guard enough to let himself be pampered by the people that love him.
Hopefully, that’ll change soon.
Namjoon brings himself out of his thoughts in time to watch his hyung pick up a
piece of ddukbokki, blow on it to cool it down, raise it for Namjoon to eat.
Eagerly obliging, Namjoon opens his mouth excessively wide for Jin to feed him.
Jin pops the ddukbokki in his mouth before eating one himself. The flavor that
invades Jin’s mouth and takes over his tastebuds is enough to bring the
brightest smile to his face.
“Good, hyung?” Namjoon tilts his head to ask. Busy chewing, Jin responds by
nodding happily. The two of them continue walking around the market, sharing
the ddukbokki between themselves. Every now and then, Namjoon sees Jin eyeing
certain stalls, the ones that sell his favorite foods. Because Jin would never
admit that he wants something, Namjoon takes the initiative and “drags” Jin to
each of these stalls, buying whatever food Namjoon knows Jin wants.
The two of them spend the next hour and a half exploring the entirety of the
market, going back to their car to sit down after eating too much to move
anywhere. “Had enough to eat?” Namjoon asks, sliding into his seat and closing
the door.
“Enough to last me a lifetime,” Jin agrees, pulling at the seatbelt.
“I’m sure you’ll change your mind by tomorrow morning when you make breakfast,”
Namjoon laughs, buckling in at the driver’s seat.
“Oh, definitely,” Jin smiles. “So where to now?”
“Wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you now, would it?” Namjoon looks
over to Jin and flashes him a smirk.
“Fine.” Jin slumps into his seat with a pout on his face.
“Just trust your Daddy Joonie,” Namjoon places a kiss on Jin’s cheek, already
feeling the smile returning to the man’s face.
“Daddy Joonie?” Jin laughs with his whole body, using one hand to hit Namjoon
while the other hits the dashboard.
“Would you have preferred Joonie oppa?” Namjoon joins him in his laughter.
“Oh no,” Jin wheezes, “I don’t think I’d ever be able to call you oppa.”
“Well, we’ll find out tonight, won’t we?” Namjoon gives Jin one last kiss
before starting the car and pulling out of their parking spot.
Chapter End Notes
     Thanks for 500 kudos!
***** Chapter 26 *****
“Hyung just texted me,” Tae announces. “They’re on their way home.”
“Is everything set up?” Jimin asks, stepping down from the chair he’s been
standing on.
“Mostly,” Jungkook answers.
“Yah, why aren’t you brats changed yet?” Yoongi appears dressed in a black
suit, his mint hair still wet from his shower. “They’re gonna be home soon.”
Immediately the three dongsaengs dash from their spots and into their loft,
leaving Yoongi alone in the hallway to greet Hoseok.
“You got the pictures?” Yoongi questions the breathless man. Gasping for air,
Hoseok nods and pulls out a stack of polaroids for Yoongi. “Alright, hurry up
and go shower.” He takes the pictures and taps Hoseok on the head with them
before climbing onto the chair Jimin had left vacant. “I can’t believe I’m
helping him do something so corny,” he mutters to himself.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“Go up first, okay?” Namjoon pulls up at the curb in front of the loft. “I’m
gonna go park the car.” He meets Jin for a quick peck on the lips and helps his
boyfriend unbuckle his seatbelt. Jin exits the vehicle, pulling out his keys in
the process. He opens the door to the building as Namjoon and the car disappear
around the corner of the block. As soon as Jin steps inside, he walks into
something hanging just high enough to hit his forehead. Furling his brows, Jin
steps back and takes a closer look at the object.
In Jin’s hand is a polaroid photo dangling from the ceiling by a barely visible
piece of fishing wire. Taking a closer look at the picture, he realizes that
the picture is of him and Namjoon from a few hours ago sharing ddukbokki.
Growing more confused, he looks towards the elevator and spots many more
polaroids hanging around. Each one of them depicts a candid image of him and
Namjoon from their date.
Entering the elevator, Jin finds more polaroids, slightly older ones. After
looking through all of them, he sees that all of them are slightly similar to
the ones that had been taken today. Only then he figures out that they had been
taken during Namjoon and his first date together five years ago—a date that
Namjoon had recreated for their fifth anniversary. The elevator rumbles to a
stop and Jin looks away from one of the pictures to exit.
As soon as Jin steps out, he notices rose petals under his feet, trailing
towards the door of his home. Curiously, he follows the petals all the way to
the loft’s open door. Inside, the boys have lined up in order of age, clad in
suits and ties. Without a word, they motion for Jin to enter the living room
and have a seat on the couch. He sits down and Jungkook walks to the plugged in
laptop to play a video.
Jin watches in awe as the the images flash by: pictures of him and Namjoon on
dates, out shopping for groceries, there were even a few from a time they had
an assignment together. Most of the pictures had been taken without Jin’s
knowledge, surprising the man by how they had been captured in the first place.
After one last picture of the two of them at the park appears, the images that
follow begin to look familiar to Jin. Pictures and selcas that he and Namjoon
had taken themselves flash across the TV screen.
“Hey, Princess,” Namjoon’s deep voice echos from the speakers, narrating the
video. “Did you enjoy our date?” A picture of Namjoon sitting in bed holding a
piece of paper with a question mark drawn on moves onto the screen.
“I know it’s cheesy, and you probably realized by now that I was trying to
recreate that very first date we went on.” 
“Remember how nervous I was? I do. I remember the seven weeks it took me to
work up the courage to ask you out. God you were so far out of my league. And
you still are.”
“I thought I’d die when you said yes.”
“Remember those words I said to you when we came back?”
“I don’t think I say them enough, do I?”
“But I hope you know that I really do love you.”
“I’ve loved you since I first laid my eyes on you. In fact, my love for you has
only grown since then. And I promise that I’ll never stop loving you.” The
screen goes black and the video ends. It’s not until he sniffles that Jin
realizes that tears have pooled under his eyes. Quickly, he wipes them away to
hide his emotions from the boys standing behind him.
“So? Whaddaya think?” a deep voice asks. Whipping his head towards the sound,
Jin finds Namjoon dressed to the tens in a dark suit that hugs his muscles just
right. He has a slim black tie around his neck and a hat resting on his gelled
hair. He keeps his hands in his pants pockets as he approaches his beloved. “I
know that I don’t say it enough, but I want you to know that I love you and
that I’ll always love you.” He stops above Jin and leans down to take the
elder’s hands in his. “And because I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re
not loved, I got you a little something you can keep as a reminder.”
The floodgates of Jin’s eyes open when Namjoon begins to lower himself until he
has a knee on the ground. “Joonie,” Jin gasps, his voice squeaking from crying.
Namjoon lets go of Jin’s right hand to reach into his pocket and pull out a
small velvet box. He holds it in front of Jin, who is using his hand to hide
his face; releasing Jin’s left hand, Namjoon opens the lid.
“Kim Seokjin, will you marry me?” With the overflow of tears and his voice
stuck in his throat, the only response Jin can give are a set of vigorous nods.
He lets the sob leave his mouth and falls forward into Namjoon’s waiting arms.
He wraps his arms around Namjoon and pulls the younger man in close, burying
his face in the man’s collar. Around them the other five boys cheer, whistling
and applauding at the union of their leader and their hyung.
Eventually, Jin calms down enough for Namjoon to pull away from him. He takes
Jin’s left hand in his own and slips the ring onto the man’s trembling finger.
Seeing the diamond on his finger makes Jin truly understand the reality of what
is happening. He is going to marry Namjoon, the man that he’s loved for more
years than they’ve dated. The man that keeps him warm at night. The man that
never fails to drive him to the store when they need groceries. The man that
takes him on dates for the sake of seeing Jin smile. With the ring on his
finger, Namjoon is making Jin his. Forever and always. And there isn’t anything
Jin could be more happy with in the world.
***** Chapter 27 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
“So when are you gonna propose to me like that, Kookie?” Tae muses, stroking
his boyfriend’s dark locks. Unable to calm Jin enough to have a coherent
conversation that isn't made up of slurred “I love you”s, Namjoon had opted to
carry his fiancé to bed, leaving the other boys in the living room. After
helping with cleanup, the two youngest had decided to call it an early night
and disappeared into Tae’s room.
“I think you’re a asking that a few years too early, Tae,” Jungkook responds
with a light chuckle. “Besides, what makes you so sure you won’t be the one
proposing to me?” Jungkook lifts his a head a bit from Tae’s chest to smirk at
his hyung who reacts by pinching his nose.
“Jungkook, I swear to Yoongi,” Tae scolds him, “if you don’t propose to me like
that I’m breaking up with you right now.” Hearing that promise, Jungkook can’t
help but laugh at the absurdity of Tae’s words.
“Why are you swearing to Yoongi of all people?” Jungkook laughs, forced to
breathe through his mouth until his hyung loosens the grip on his nose.
“Because,” Tae explains, “Yoongi could probably kill you faster than God
could.” Tae tries to maintain his composure in saying that last sentence by
pulling his lips into a pout.
“Hyung,” Jungkook nibbles at the illegal expression on Tae’s face. “I promise,
one day I’ll propose to you but I’m definitely not gonna do it the way Hyung
did. Though, I do promise that I’ll absolutely make you cry.”
“Yea?” Tae asks for confirmation, tilting his head off the pillow as best he
could.
“It’s a promise,” Jungkook answers, capturing his lover’s lips with his own.
“Where did hyung even get all those pictures from?”
With a smile spreading on his lips, Tae tells Jungkook, “You don't know this,
but ever since Namjoon-hyung finally decided to ask Jin-hyung out he’d been
consulting Hoseok-hyung and I. You were—what 14? 15?—a kid, basically, with no
experience in the L-O-V-E department.” Thinking back, Jungkook vaguely recalls
those closed door meetings that he’d come home from school to. He just barely
remembers the quick glances and brief moments of eye contact during meals.
“Anyway,” Tae continues, reviving Jungkook from his thoughts, “since that first
date, Hoseok-hyung and I have been helping Namjoon plan, set up, and photograph
their dates. All in preparation for today. It turned out really well didn’t
it?” Tae lies back down and smiles at the white ceiling with his hands behind
his head, thinking about what their relationship would look like in five years.
“Yea,” Jungkook agrees, laying his head down above Tae’s heart, “it was cute.
Cheesy. But cute. So never once did Jin-hyung catch you guys following them
around taking pictures?”
“Nope,” Tae brags, popping the P. “I’m just that good. I don’t think I can say
the same for Hoseok-hyung though.” Tae’s comment brings more laughter between
the boys. The two continue reminiscing on the misadventures of their hyungs,
often laughing quite jovially, and simply enjoying each other’s company for the
remainder of the night.
                                        
                                   ********
                                        
In Yoongi’s room, the elder has been explaining more or less the same things as
Tae to a very curious Park Jimin.
“Why didn’t you ever help out?” Jimin questions, “You’re older than all of them
but Jin-hyung.”
“One word, baby boy,” Yoongi smirks. The two are lying on Yoongi’s bed, face to
face, noses close enough to touch but not quite. In the close proximity, Yoongi
makes sure to emphasize his next word. “Laziness.”
“Pfft,” Jimin scoffs, “Hyung, you’re no fun. Besides, the former host should
have the best tips on how to flirt. You could’ve given Namjoon-hyung a few
pointers or something.”
“Nah,” Yoongi denies, “laziness has and always will continue to prevent me from
ever offering anyone any type of lessons on flirting.”
“Wow,” Jimin rolls his eyes, making sure Yoongi can see them go in a full
circle. The sarcasm in Jimin’s expression is replaced by a small, but devious
smile tugging at the corner of his lips; not a moment later does Jimin’s
demeanor change yet again. “Not even for your favorite dongsaeng?” Jimin asks
in his best baby voice, batting his eyelashes and pouting his lips for the best
aegyo effect.
This time it’s Yoongi’s turn to snort. “Why would I need to give dating advice
to Jungkook when Taehyung’s already beyond infatuated with him?”
“Hyung,” Jimin whines, playfully hitting Yoongi’s chest. The older man laughs
and flinches, moving his arms to protect his chest while going to grab Jimin’s
arms. When Yoongi has completely subdued the smaller boy, the pout returns to
Jimin’s face. “You’re not fair, hyung.”
“I know,” Yoongi smiles with his gums all smug-like. He continues to tease
Jimin for the rest of the night, making up for the bullying by surprising Jimin
with the occasional kiss on the nose.
 
                                   ********
 
Hope you’re having fun playing pretend, oppa.
 
Being trapped in dream-land is gonna make you soft, you know.
 
There’s no way you’ll be prepared for what’s gonna happen next.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Hours after everyone has gone to bed, a loud explosion rattles the loft and
wakes Yoongi up immediately. His first instinct is to reach for his gun waiting
for him on his nightstand. He slips out of bed and flattens himself on the wall
beside his window. Cautiously peering out the window, his eyes widen at the
light of the blinding fire. At the intersection at the other end of the block
is a large black van completely engulfed by flames. In front of the flames is a
single figure, a silhouette that Yoongi can’t quite make out in the darkness of
the night.
Only when a breeze separates a few strands of hair from the dark figure does
Yoongi recognize that shade of orange. His eyes shoot to the bed, now empty
after he had gotten out of it. By pure instinct, Yoongi bolts out of his room
in sync with Hoseok, Tae, and Namjoon opening their doors as well. He beats the
others to the door; sliding sneakers onto his feet, Yoongi runs out of the loft
and down the emergency exit.
Outside, Yoongi’s pace only slows down when he approaches the unmoving boy,
mesmerized like a moth would be to the light. Dangling from one of Jimin’s
fingers is a ring of metal with a small thin rod at the bottom—the safety pin
of a grenade. Up close, Yoongi can better identify what Jimin is holding,
trying to keep it concealed. In his free hand, he grips a grenade that has yet
to be detonated. “Jimin,” Yoongi breathes, calling for the boy to move away
from the heat. He silently grips his pistol a bit tighter in the event that he
would have to use it. But Jimin doesn’t move—no, he doesn’t even react to the
sound of his name. He keeps his eyes trained on the burning car, occasionally
taking in deeper breaths to inhale in the smell of the fire.
Behind Yoongi, the rest of the boys have caught up and arrive at the scene.
“Jimin,” Jin’s more soothing voice speaks. “Step back from the fire, sweetie;
you’ll get burned.” Even though the eldest sees the explosive in Jimin’s hand
like everyone else does, his concern for the younger boy trumps his fear of
death by Jimin’s hand. This time Jimin does move. It’s subtle, really subtle.
Just the very tips of Jimin’s ears appear to prick up, a result of the smile
that has grown on his face.
“Isn’t it pretty, hyung?” Jimin asks, whipping his head around to smile at Jin.
Protectively, Namjoon’s arm around Jin’s waist tugs the man just a bit closer.
“It’s just like the color of my hair, right?” Jimin continues without having
received any type of response. “I wonder what would happen if I dropped this
one too.” He holds up the grenade in his hand; his finger is looped around the
safety pin, ready to set off yet another explosion.
“Put it down, Jimin.” Hoseok speaks. The usual cheerfulness of the man’s voice
is completely gone, replaced when he has to raise his gun to aim at the boy’s
head. “Just put it on the ground and walk away. We can talk about this inside,
okay?” Hoseok, a man who’d prefer to leave serious business to Yoongi, has
completely changed his happy-go-lucky demeanor; looking at Hoseok now, no one
can say for sure that they’ve ever seen him smile.
“Are you going to shoot me if I don’t?” Jimin questions. He turns around with
the grenade still held precariously in his hand. This time, with the exception
of Jin, the rest of the boys raise their weapons to aim at Jimin—Hoseok,
Jungkook, and Namjoon between his eyes and Tae and Yoongi at his heart. Jimin’s
eyes widen in surprise. “Che,” he smirks. “I’m not suicidal.” Slowly he unwinds
his finger from the metal ring and lowers towards the asphalt. He’s careful to
put the grenade down without implications of suddenly setting it off. He gets
back up, arms in the air to show surrender, and steps away from both the
explosive and the blaze.
RIght on cue, the sound of a siren punctures the silence of the night. “Keep
your hands on you head,” Hoseok directs Jimin, taking a hold of the younger
boy’s shoulder. Jimin complies, allowing himself to be led back into the loft
by his hyung. While Tae and Jungkook help escort Jimin into the building,
Yoongi moves to pick up the grenade on the ground where the boy had left it.
Upon closer inspection, Yoongi notices a set of initials inscribed on the shell
of the bomb. “L.P.K.”
Where the hell did the boy get this grenade from?
Chapter End Notes
     Imagine though:
     “I promise, one day I’ll propose to you but I’m definitely not gonna
     do it the way Hyung did. Though, I do promise that I’ll absolutely
     make you cry.”
     But Tae ends up dying before Jungkook can so Jungkook waits for the
     fifth anniversary of Tae's death and proposes at Tae's grave. Instead
     of Tae crying Jungkook's the one sobbing as he's proposing...
     lol I'm not evil enough to kill them off like that...or
     am I?
***** Chapter 28 *****
For the first time, Jimin finds out that the building has a basement used as an
interrogation room and prison. The boys sit Jimin down at a metal chair on one
side of the matching table, keeping him out of reach of anything that can be
used as a weapon. Tae and Jungkook keep a hand each on Jimin’s shoulders to
keep their elder from easily getting up while Hoseok stays behind the boy with
his gun ready to kill if necessary. Moments later the elevator arrives again;
after a few echoing footsteps, someone enters the room and slams the door shut,
seeming to rattle the loft worse than the explosion had.
“Talk,” Yoongi demands, standing on the other side of the table with Namjoon
beside him. Jin takes his phone out of his pocket and steps outside to phone
the fire department and possibly the police. Yoongi holds it to display the
inscription on the casing, clear for everyone to see. “What else are you
keeping from us?”
“L.P.K?” Namjoon reads, “That's—”
“The Liberty for the People of Korea,” Jimin confirms.
“Isn’t that a political party?” Jungkook asks his hyungs, too indifferent to
the world of politics.
“What can I say? Daddy was a very good politician.” Jimin replies.
“You said your dad was an assassin like us,” Tae interjects.
“No I didn’t,” Jimin corrects, “I said he trained me to be a killer, but Mom
was the assassin of the family. Dad was once her target because of who he had
been affiliated with at the time. After meeting and marrying Mom, he joined
L.P.K. Wanna know how?” That signature smirk of Jimin’s is playing on the
corner of his lips, twitching slightly from the excitement of suspense.
“What I wanna know is why the fuck is there a goddamn car on fire down the
block,” Yoongi speaks first.
“In my defense,” Jimin tells him, “they started it.”
“Who?”
The smile on Jimin’s face grows with every word he speaks, “Those bad people
burning to death inside the trunk.”
“What the fuck?” Yoongi curses, his glaring eyes filled with disgust towards
Jimin.
Oh, did I mess up again? Before Jimin can find out, Jungkook and Tae have
already moved from beside him under Namjoon’s orders. The two rush out the open
door, followed by Jin who has grabbed a fire extinguisher. Namjoon goes to see
how long it would take for a fire truck to arrive at their address while Hoseok
calls for an ambulance. The only people who haven’t moved at all are Jimin and
the very angry, very disappointed Yoongi.
“Um,” Jimin tries, “should-should we go help them?” He turns his legs towards
the door; but before he can even stand up, Yoongi slams something onto the
table loud enough and hard enough to cause Jimin to jump just a little. Under
the elder’s hand is a gun, Yoongi’s favorite Glock.
“Don’t even think about moving,” Yoongi threatens the boy. The way Yoongi
basically growls like a feral animal elicits a small, barely audible whimper
from Jimin’s throat. The expression of pure anger isn't one Jimin has seen on
Yoongi's face before; but he definitely recognizes the heat from being looked
at with hatred-filled eyes.
Mmmm, that face he’s making. Looks familiar doesn’t it?Of course does. Someone
he’d known a long time ago used to make that face for the sole purpose of
directing it towards the boy. Jimin doesn’t like it—the resemblance. The cold
daggers that have replaced Yoongi’s eyes are stabbing Jimin straight through
his own, forcing the boy to hold his gaze despite the instincts telling him to
look away. Those lips that had been soft, gentle against Jimin’s own just hours
before are pulled into a tight line, as they always are when Yoongi is being
serious or discussing business. Now, it just looks like Yoongi is biting the
inside of his bottom lip to keep himself from saying something he would regret.
Just the thought of what words could come out of the elder’s mouth is enough to
send a chill down Jimin’s spine.
Yoongi moves to the Jimin’s side of the table. “Hands,” the man orders.
Immediately, Jimin complies, holding his hands in his sweater paws out for
Yoongi. Mentally, the younger curses himself for being scared to the point of
obedience. Yoongi takes one of Jimin’s wrists, pulls out a set of handcuffs
from who knows where, and secures the boy’s hand to the bar under the seat of
his chair. He goes to the other side of Jimin and does the same to the other
hand, making sure the metal rings are tight enough to dig into the pale boy’s
skin.
Brings back memories, doesn’t it? A scene from Jimin’s adolescence flashes
through his head. He had been in a larger warehouse, but the walls of that
building and his current prison look exactly the same. Rather than sitting in a
chair, Jimin had been chained to the ground, his limbs forced apart against his
will. They had made him stay like that, naked for hours, before actually doing
anything to him. He remembers how hard he had tried to keep tears from slipping
down his face. If they had seen him crying, they would have only been provoked
to do worse.
Just the memories are enough to dampen Jimin’s eyes. Blinking the moisture
away, Jimin’s eyes refocus on Yoongi who has since moved to lean on the table
in front of him. He shivers. Yoongi’s gaze has changed again; the anger in the
man’s eyes has changed to a more primal expression. Is that lust? Or perhaps
desire? No. That look on Yoongi’s face is one of pure hunger.
The corners of Yoongi’s lips start curling up. “Such a dirty brat,” Yoongi
smirks. He lifts a foot and all but stomps in between Jimin’s legs. When did
the elder even chain his legs open on the chair? “What in this situation could
you possibly be getting hard from?” Slowly, Yoongi’s foot against Jimin’s
crotch starts moving and forces Jimin to release a shaky breath. The boy’s eyes
widen. Yoongi isn’t wrong. Why the fuck am I hard? “Don’t tell me you’re a
masochist now?” Yoongi presses down and Jimin has to swallow hard to keep from
moaning.
“N-No,” Jimin stutters, “please—” Jimin tries to push himself away from Yoongi,
only to discover that the chair he’s in is nailed to the ground. The most he
can do is hunch over and shift himself as far back into the chair that he can;
even then, it’s still not enough.
“Hmm?” Yoongi cuts him off, “Does the little slut want something?”
“P-Please,” Jimin whines as Yoongi’s foot moves faster. “S-St-Stop.”
“Why?” Yoongi questions. “The other’s could be back at any moment. Wanna show
everyone what’s between your legs?” Suddenly Yoongi drops his leg to the ground
with a hard thump. He leans forward from the table to speak directly into
Jimin’s ear. “I guess that could be arranged.” A shudder runs straight through
Jimin’s body to his crotch, twitching at the absence of Yoongi’s foot—the
absence of the pressure and the friction.This can’t be happening.Jimin wants to
cry. A few hours ago, Jimin never would have thought that Yoongi would
humiliate Jimin like this; now, he isn’t quite sure that the elder wouldn’t.
Jimin lifts his head with tears in his eyes. “H-Hyung,” his voice cracks.
“You don’t get to call me that,” Yoongi spits, his foot landing on Jimin’s
throbbing member again.
“Y-Yoon—”
“Wrong again.” The man keeps the heel of his shoe firm between Jimin’s thighs
and uses his toes to press down on Jimin’s erection.
“I-I,” Jimin tries to formulate words while Yoongi teases him. “don’t k-know.”
He repeats these three words over and over, trying to convince Yoongi to
believe him. Jimin gulps in air when he’s finally released from Yoongi’s foot
only to gasp when he realizes that the foot has been replaced by a hand.
Following the arm up, Jimin’s eyes meet Yoongi’s at a closer proximity than he
had expected them to. Yoongi is leaning over the boy, an arm on the chair’s
back to keep him upright. The other hand is rubbing, squeezing, rougher than
the foot had been. Yoongi’s eyes are clouded over. He wants an answer from
Jimin. The correct answer.
Jimin watches at Yoongi’s tongue slips out from between his lips, wetting the
pair before speaking again. “What a naughty whore,” Yoongi comments,
“shamelessly rutting against my hand like bitch in heat. Does your little dick
want to come that badly, Jiminie?” Jimin hadn’t even noticed; but now that he
has, he can’t stop. I want to come. The thought chants in Jimin’s head,
prompting him to move more. More. I want more. The boy squeezes his eyes shut
and nods his response to Yoongi. He needs to come.
“Show me that you can be a good boy and beg for it,” Yoongi growls into Jimin’s
ear.
“Please,” Jimin cries desperately, trying hard to move in his restraints.
“Please let me come. Please, I need to come. Please Yoongi.”
The hand moves away almost immediately. “I thought I told you not to call me
that.”
“P-Please, s-sir.”
“Try again.”
“P-Please, m-master, make-make me come.”
“Good boy.”
***** Chapter 29 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The fire trucks come with blaring sirens moments after Hoseok and Tae manage to
get the bodies out from the truck of the flaming car. It hadn’t been easy. Jin
and Jungkook had to keep their extinguishers aimed at the fire and spraying the
entire time. Namjoon would’ve been of more help had he not been born with
sensitive skin and natural clumsiness. Still, he was the one who had come up
with their cover story. He was the one who had to convince the authorities that
they weren’t the ones responsible for the deaths of the two men they had pulled
out.
After the paramedics arrived, it had been determined that the men had been dead
long before they could’ve been killed by inhaling the smoke or by being burned
along with the vehicle. The police and their coroner would have to further
examine the charred bodies back at their lab to determine the exact causes of
death.
The boys had been questioned of course, despite Namjoon’s tale. Each one stuck
to the story flawlessly, having only overheard it while their leader had been
lying his ass off to the firemen. They all live together in a building down the
street. Namjoon, a part time bartender, had been coming home after his
nightshift when he had seen the smoke from a block away and then heard an
explosion. He had called the fire department almost immediately before calling
the rest of them to help.
The explosion had caused the car doors and the trunk to fly open, revealing the
bodies in the trunk. They’d acted quickly by trying to get the men out, since
the firemen hadn’t yet arrived. All of this has led to the situation they are
in now.
The boys only know what they had heard from Namjoon but had also been woken up
by the sound of the explosion. No one had seen any suspects fleeing from the
scene. No one knows what caused the explosion. No one knows how the car got
there, how the driver and a passenger had ended up dead in the trunk. None of
them knows anything about what could’ve happened. Having been no help to the
police, the five boys are finally dismissed back to their home.
“Is it really okay for them to know where we live?” Tae asks when they’re out
of earshot.
“It shouldn’t be a problem,” Namjoon reassures him, “there’s not a single thing
they can link to us.”
“What if they come around asking for the surveillance footage?” Jungkook
questions.
“That’s on the off chance they actually saw that they’re there. As far as they
know, there aren’t any cameras around that could’ve caught anything.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
But the cameras did catch something. They had caught and recorded everything,
quite clearly from all the necessary angles. Jimin had woken up in the middle
of the night without any disturbance at 3:20 am, like it had been clockwork;
anyone watching that doesn’t know any better would’ve thought Jimin was just
sleepwalking. He’d slipped out from the warmth of Yoongi and his bed and headed
into his own room, which unfortunately didn’t have cameras like Yoongi’s did.
The boy leaves the room seven minutes later, fully dressed in a bomber and
jeans—something he hadn’t been wearing when they’d found him. He twists a
silencer onto his handgun of choice, tucking it into the waistband of his pants
by the time he reaches the front door; his feet slip into his sneakers as
ordinarily as ever and he walks out the door without any change in his grim
expression.
Outside, Jimin had sat in the middle of the street, waiting—almost like he’d
known that someone was coming. And come it did. The flawless car had turned the
corner onto their road no more than ten minutes later. As expected, it only
slows to a stop mere inches from Jimin’s nose. After a beat, the car’s engine
is turned off and the headlights turn off, forcing the scene to be illuminated
by the few streetlamps high above them.
Jimin gets up, tapping the underside of the car with his hand while doing so.
He dusts his hands off as the vehicle’s doors open and two men step out from
either side. They stay behind their respective doors but draw their weapons
nonetheless. Jimin puts his hands up in surrender, swaying in a small circle to
show that he’s unarmed. The driver nods to the passenger to collect the boy. As
the man makes his way around him, Jimin puts his hands behind his head,
presumably to link his fingers together. The man coming to bind Jimin replaces
his gun in his holster and takes hold of one of Jimin’s wrists.
That’s as far as Mr. Passenger gets to securing Jimin. In a few swift motions,
Jimin is suddenly the one standing behind the man, holding him firmly via the
arm painfully twisted behind his back. The gun in the holster is out again,
this time pointed at Mr. Driver. Words are exchanged but none of the
microphones can pick up their conversation clearly enough to understand it.
Whatever negotiations that had been happening must’ve broken down because Mr.
Driver fires his gun—several times actually—aimlessly into the body of the
passenger. The man spazzes out from the impact of the bullets before ultimately
going limp in Jimin’s arms.
Jimin shouts a few choice words at the man, probably scolding him for shooting
his comrade. This time Jimin shoots, grazing the man’s cheek. A warning
perhaps? Whatever it is, it only makes the situation more tense. This isn’t a
movie. Albeit, Mr. Driver’s aim is as shitty as every villain in every action
movie ever; but Jimin can’t just dodge bullets like nothing. Instead he chooses
a different approach to the trigger hungry man.
With a simple push, Jimin throws the body of Mr. Passenger at the driver,
disorienting the man however briefly. Still, the distraction gives Jimin enough
time to maneuver himself onto the hood of the car. Running up the windshield,
Jimin slides his body onto the hood with a spin, kicking Mr. Driver in the back
of head with the heel of his shoe. Jimin drops down behind the man and takes a
hold of his head before snapping his neck.
Releasing the dead man’s head, Jimin steps back to assess the scene. He’s
covered in Mr. Passenger’s blood which has begun pooling on the ground where he
lays as well. Jimin reaches into the car to pop the trunk open and drags Mr.
Passenger towards his tomb. Suddenly he stops and staggers back a few steps
when he looks inside, losing his grip on the body. In the dim light, the
cameras can’t get a clear picture of what exactly Jimin sees in the trunk.
Snapping out of his trance, Jimin struggles to lift the larger, heavier man
into the trunk before moving onto Mr. Driver. He gets the other man into the
trunk with no more ease than the first. Instead of closing the trunk
immediately, Jimin ducks his head under the hood, his arms moving quickly and
erratically.
Soon enough, Jimin slams the trunk close and backs away, having disposed of his
bloodied clothes into the trunk. Seconds later he runs, clearly clutching
something in his hand that hadn’t been there before. He runs hard, sprinting
down the block like his life depended on it.
The hood of the car goes off first, blasting up from the ground in flames.
Before the front wheels can touch down again, the trunk explodes, far larger,
far louder than the first had been. After the car settles in its burning state,
Jimin returns to the vehicle, walking from being out of breath. Moments later a
mint-haired Yoongi enters the cameras' frames, stopping behind Jimin who hasn’t
moved since the fire had spread to the entirety of the car. The rest of the
boys arrive seconds later.
The seven of them talk. Jimin shows what he had grabbed from the trunk before
running. The grenade. Hoseok raises his gun. Jimin turns to face them. The rest
of the guns go up. Jimin surrenders and puts the grenade down. The boys bring
Jimin inside. Namjoon and Jin, followed by the other three boys, return into
the frame minutes later with fire extinguishers.
The fire trucks arrive. An ambulance too. Then the cop cars. The fire is put
out. What remains of the charred bodies are put into body bags. Police tape is
put up and cameras appear to photograph evidence. The boys are all questioned
individually before they are told to return home. Which they obediently do. And
Yoongi decides that it’s time to leave.
He’s quick to grab his bag that he’d already filled with his precious guns and
head for the door. As he runs down the emergency stairs, the boys step into the
elevator to go to the basement. As Yoongi reaches the backdoor of the loft, the
boys open the door to the elevator to get to the room Jimin’s in. As Yoongi
gets on his motorcycle, he sends three lines of text to Namjoon.
                                                                 He’s innocent.
                                                 I’ll return when he remembers.
                                                              Take care of him.
With that he speeds off, tossing his phone into the side of a dumpster causing
it to shatter. Hopefully his message had been sent and received before Yoongi
had done away with his ties to the Bangtan Boys.
Chapter End Notes
     Sorry it took me so long to update -.-"
     Also thanks for the kudos!!
***** Chapter 30 *****
Why?
Why did Yoongi just do that to me?
I thought he liked me.
I thought I was special.
I thought he was different.
Why—
“Jimin!” Tae shouts, startling the semi-conscious boy. The five boys have just
returned from speaking with the police only to find Jimin chained to his chair
and Yoongi nowhere in sight. The boys rush over to the slumped orange-head,
hurriedly unlocking the cuffs that bound him. Upon removing the handcuffs
around Jimin’s wrist, Tae can’t help but wince seeing that all too familiar red
line that’s been left in place of the metal.
After freeing the boy, Jin squats down in front of him and lightly pats his
tear-stained cheeks to wake him. “Jimin?” Jin’s voice sounds infinitely distant
from Jimin’s ears. “Jimin, look at me please.” Jimin’s eyes blink close before
opening at an equally slow pace. In front of Jimin is someone he has been
calling hyung; he can recognize that. “Jimin.” His hyung is calling to him,
asking for his focus and attention. Jimin can give him that. After another set
of slow blinks, Jimin’s eyes finally start to show the signs of life Jin has
been searching for.
“Jimin, sweetie,” Jin starts, “what happened? Where's Yoongi?”
“I dunno,” Jimin slurs his words together. “I-I think he really hates me now.”
He stops to sniffle, his eyes starting to water again. “I thought I was
starting to like me,” Jimin explains in a smaller voice, “but I guess he’s
really good at pretending not to hate me.” He lets out a short, choke laugh in
disbelief. He was so naÏve.
“Jimin, no,” Jin reaches up to wipe away his dongsaeng’s tears. “He doesn’t
hate you; he never has. Why would you think that?”
“Because,” Jimin cries, his body starting to tremble with his labored
breathing, “he said he was leaving. That he wasn’t coming back. He said that I
didn’t remember so I shouldn’t. Because I don’t ‘need to remember’.” Jin stops
the boy by throwing his arms around Jimin’s neck and pulling him in for a much
needed hug. Jimin sobs into Jin’s shirt even harder, “Please, hyung. I don’t
know what he wants me to remember. I don’t know.”
“It’s okay, Jimin,” Jin coos in his ear, “it’s okay; just breathe.” He runs a
hand up and down Jimin’s back to soothe him. The other boys standing behind
Jimin have gone quiet, their eyes filled with sadness. Yoongi had been their
hyung too. He was the one who had saved them all; and suddenly he’s gone.
Namjoon had felt his phone vibrating in his pocket when they’d entered the
basement; he’d opted to help check on Jimin rather than pulling out his device.
Maybe if he had they could’ve followed him. Maybe they could’ve caught up with
him before he could’ve gotten too far. Maybe they could’ve stopped Yoongi from
leaving.
But he didn’t. And now Yoongi’s phone isn’t ringing, leaving the boys without
so much as a farewell.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
The boys bring Jimin back upstairs and let him have some alone time with a
bath. Namjoon and Jungkook go to check the video footage of the night’s events
captured by the many surveillance cameras around the vicinity only to discover
that they couldn’t access the recordings.
“He locked us out,” Namjoon sighs.
“What does that mean?” Tae, who had joined the duo, asks.
“It means that hyung made sure that none of us could watch the recordings,”
Jungkook informs him. “Hyung probably watched it before leaving and saw
something he didn’t want us to see.”
“Why wouldn’t he want us to see it?”
“Because he wants us to trust Jimin,” Namjoon concludes.
With Jimin still in the bathroom, Namjoon calls a quick meeting in his room.
“Before Yoongi hyung left, he sent me three texts. The first one said ‘he’s
innocent’. The second said that he would be back when Jimin remembers. And the
third came an entire minute after asking us to take care of Jimin.”
“But if Jimin’s really innocent, then why is hyung keeping us from watching the
videos?” Hoseok questions.
“No clue,” Namjoon responds.
“How long would it take for you and Jungkook to figure out a way to extract the
recordings?” Jin chimes in.
“A computer expert would probably take a year, a year and a half to do it,”
Jungkook answers. “Us? Maybe a month or two?” He looks at Namjoon who nods his
confirmation.
“I’ll start working on it in the morning,” Namjoon decides.
“Okay,” Jin yawns, suddenly remembering what time it was. “Bedtime. Jungkook
you have school tomorrow. I’ll go check on Jimin before heading to bed.”
“Good night,” Hoseok gets up from Namjoon’s bed and shuffles to the door.
“Night,” Tae waves back to Namjoon, taking Jungkook out with him.
“Night,” Namjoon repeats. Walks to his door behind everyone leaving, intent on
closing it behind Jungkook. However, he stops when he sees Jin with his ear
pressed against the closed bathroom door and a concerned expression on his
face.
“What’s the matter?”
“Jimin’s been in there for a pretty long time, don’t you think?” Jin responds.
He knocks on the door. “Jimin? You okay in there?” He knocks again and still
receives no response. His eyebrows furl together and he places a hand on the
doorknob.
“You don’t think—?” Namjoon doesn’t know how to finish his question. With the
uncertainty of his fiancé’s question, Jin twists the knob and to his surprise
the door opens. Flicking on the light switch, Jin sees that the bathroom is
empty. Namjoon, seeing this, exits his room to the other bathroom, checking to
see if Jimin had gone into the other one.
“He could’ve just finished bathing already, right?” Jin stops in front of
Jimin’s closed bedroom door. Namjoon shrugs and joins the elder, who has lifted
a hand in preparation to knock.
“Wait,” Namjoon suddenly grabs Jin’s wrist and stops him. Beside Jin, Yoongi’s
bedroom door has moved. Rather than being completely closed, a slight sliver of
the door frame can be seen. Yoongi would’ve never left with his door open like
that. Namjoon releases Jin’s hand and nods for them to shift over to the
disturbed door. Namjoon puts a finger to his lips, reminding both himself and
Jin to be silent. Jin nods and puts a hand on the cool doorknob, ready to push
it open.
Ever so quietly, the couple eases the door open, spilling light into the dark
room. The two peek their heads inside, expecting the room to be empty. Instead
the find a rolled mass in the center of Yoongi’s bed. Guessing that to be the
missing boy, the two release a sigh of relief and slowly shuts the door as they
exit.
“Ready for bed?” Namjoon peeks down at Jin. He pulls Jin close to him with a
hand perfectly fitted around the elder’s waist.
“Mhmm,” Jin nods, “it’s too early to be doing so much.” He lets Namjoon wrap
his arms around him from the back and the two of them waddle back to his room
where they intend on staying for the remainder of the night.
If either of them had gone further inside Yoongi’s room, they would’ve noticed
the curled posture of the sleeping boy. They might’ve picked up on the small
whimpers almost completely muffled by the large blanket. After his bath, Jimin
had tried going to sleep in his own room; but his bed had somehow felt foreign
to him. Giving up after a few tosses and turns, he found himself crawling into
Yoongi’s empty bed, the one he shouldn’t have left in the first place.
Jimin had cried himself to sleep knowing that Yoongi wouldn’t be beside him
when he wakes up. Yoongi won’t be there to pull Jimin a bit closer to his
warmth when he tends to shift away. He won’t be there to hold Jimin tight when
he cries in the middle of the night. He can’t give him little kisses on the
nose and tell him that everything’s going to be alright. Yoongi is gone,
leaving Jimin behind. All because Jimin has forgotten something that Yoongi
doesn’t want Jimin to remember.
But Jimin’s determined. He’ll figure it out, right? The best place to start
would be in the elder’s room—the one that was conveniently unlocked when Jimin
pushed against the door.
***** NOT AN UPDATE *****
Hey, everyone. Bet ya’ll missed me. ^.^
 
Anyway sorry to disappoint but this isn’t an update. Yea. I know. I suck.
 
The reason that I’m writing this and posting this is because I’m ending this
AO3 Work.
 
Before you all go get your panties in a twist lemme explain.
 
So after a very very long amount of deliberation between me, myself, and I, I
couldn’t decide how to proceed with the story.
 
Now this doesn’t mean that I got writer’s block. Don’t worry I didn’t. I’m just
a lazy little shit.
 
However I did get the inspiration of a different route that the story could
take but would ultimately still end up at the same conclusion. Both this new
route and the original route I had in mind are equally as convoluted, angsty,
and suspenseful. So like a parent who can’t choose a favorite child, I couldn’t
decide which route to go with.
 
Therefore what I have decided to do is end this Work and start TWO new ones.
One for each route. Both will be updated as simultaneously as my crappy
internet will allow. While they will begin differently, as I mentioned, both
will end up with similar plot points and when the story draws to a close I will
probably end them both and start a fourth Work to write the conclusion.
 
I will organize them such that they are all in the same series so you can find
them easily. Although the routes will basically be happening simultaneously, as
they are parallel, AO3 doesn’t really give the option of having both of the
Works as continuations of this first one. So they will appear as Part 2 and
Part 3 of the series; just keep in mind that Part 3 is not continuing Part 2
but continuing Part 1.
 
I will leave it up to you guys which route you want to read; feel free to read
them both if you want to.
 
I won’t go into how the routes diverge in this post but it’ll be pretty fucking
obvious when you read the first paragraphs of both. Actually you might figure
it out in the title. Shh. *Spoilers*
 
Lastly I really do want to thank you all for sticking around with my 30
chapters of nonsense. You guys have been amazing readers. I know I don’t really
respond to comments (maybe I’ll do that with the new installments if you guys
want me to) but I really really enjoy reading through all of them and watching
you guys squirm; I’d probably have cursed at my computer a few times if I had
to read through this story without knowing what would happen next. Love you
guys.  <3
 
 
Also a bit of self-advertising. Not sure if you guys have seen but I've started
yet another Work, Pet_Bunny. It will also be a new series which I will explain
more about in the notes of the next chapter I post for it. The speed of
updating all of my shit will never be because of writer's block or because I've
forgotten. No. Like I said. I am just lazy af. But when I get the motivation to
write words just start pouring out. So hopefully all of my stuff will be
updated around the same time. Probably.
 
 
I’ll be posting the new Works within the next hour so I hope to see you guys
there.
 
 
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
