Actions

Work Header

浮世 U K I Y O

Chapter Text

 

UKIYO 浮世

 

浮 – float 世 – world/society

LITERAL MEANING: floating world

“transient world” or “fleeting life”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There's a particularly annoying noise that is only managing to worsen Yoongi's building migraine. The problem is, Yoongi doesn't know where it is coming from. It's a ticking noise, almost like a clock. Yoongi doesn't have clocks in his office. Yoongi doesn't have clocks anywhere in his penthouse, period. Clocks are something that Yoongi can and will live without.

So where the fuck is this ticking noise coming from?

“Hyung, are you listening to me?”

Yoongi looks up from his lap. Namjoon is sitting opposite to him, his desk dividing them. The man has his eyes swimming in uncertainty and his jaw clenched painfully. Yoongi can't blame him for his mood. He'd be worried too if only the ticking noise weren't distracting him as much as it is.

But yes, he's listening.

“How much?” he asks, Namjoon takes a very long and deep breath, almost as if he's bracing himself.

Namjoon rarely gets nervous. So Yoongi isn't liking this situation. He wasn't liking it at the beginning either, but now that he's seen how nervous and, quite frankly, pissed off Namjoon is, Yoongi is fearing the situation.

“This person managed to break in one of our warehouses.”

“How much, Namjoon.”

Namjoon swallows and licks his lips nervously. “Twenty kilograms.”

Yoongi's brain processes the new information and he does some quick maths. He reaches for the pack of cigarettes and he takes one out, then he gets his lighter from the pocket of his jacket.

Yoongi lights up the cigarette and he takes a long drag, letting the smoke settle in his lungs for a few seconds before he breathes out the lungful.

“Pure kilos?” Yoongi asks, Namjoon nods stiffly. “So you're telling me I lost 3 billion won? Give and take?”

Namjoon clicks his tongue and nods once again.

Well, shit.

“You'll find this motherfucker and you will bring him alive to me.” Yoongi says, he taps on his cigarette just above the tacky crystal ashtray that Seokjin got him for Christmas two years ago as a joke. At least, Yoongi hoped it was a joke. “And it's fine if he doesn't have the money. I'll drown him in his own piss and that will still bring me a sort of amusement.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. Yoongi would give him shit for it, but he doesn't. He would if only that ticking noise could stop.

“We have security footage.” Namjoon adds, Yoongi arches an eyebrow.

“These motherfuckers manage to steal my coke but forget to check the cameras?”

“I have a feeling they just got lucky.” Namjoon leans down to get his laptop from the bag he put on the floor. He puts it on Yoongi's laptop, opens it and then he starts searching for the footage he wants to show him. “They weren't clean, they wanted to steal more but then they had to cut it off short because security rushed in.”

“They still stole it, though.” Yoongi mutters. “Three whole billions worth of my coke.”

It's really fucking with him. Not because the money that he most likely just lost is such a big deal. Fuck, three billion is nothing, he spends them in a week if he's feeling petty and needy of new expensive shit. It's the principle. The fact that someone stole from him.

Or maybe it's the never-ending ticking noise, it's the way his head keeps throbbing ever since Namjoon stepped inside. How is it that whenever Namjoon comes to his house he always brings shitty news?

“Here.” Namjoon turns the laptop so that the screen faces Yoongi.

The quality of the image could be better, it's dark in the warehouse, but he still can make out the silhouettes of the thieves. Two men who run inside and quickly start grabbing as much as they can of the stash of cocaine. They drop the plastic wrapped drug in two large sport bags and Yoongi can see why Namjoon thinks they were hoping to get more. The bags are truly big, they could easily fit at least fifteen kilos each, if not some more. Suddenly, what must be the light of a flashlight creeps through one of the windows. The two thieves notice it and immediately run off. Yoongi can see their faces now, as they turn away and make a run for it, the cameras captured them quite clearly.

“I don't know who the first one is.” Yoongi says, pointing at the screen. “Second one seems familiar.”

“That's because he is.” Namjoon straightens his shoulders. “Lee Ye-jun.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Should that ring a bell for me?”

“He's one of our runners for the rich districts.”

“He won't be shit soon.” Yoongi nods. “We know where he lives, obviously.”

“He recently abandoned his previous address, but Hoseok found where he's currently hiding fast. He's not subtle in his movements.”

Yoongi hums, he breathes in some more smoke. “That's because he's an idiot. Only idiots steal from me.”

“Should we go tonight?”

Yoongi scoffs. “'s not like we have a choice. Piece of shit could run away at any moment. Besides,” Yoongi looks at Namjoon, sends him a knowing look. “I have a certain fucking dinner tomorrow.”

“Ah.” Namjoon grimaces. “We shall go tonight, then.”

“Let me finish my cigarette first. Take one, smoke with me, you know I hate smoking alone when there's someone else in the room.”

Namjoon finally breaks into a grin, dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth. He leans further on the table and takes a cigarette for himself.

They both smoke in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Well, as much silence Yoongi can get considering that goddamn ticking noise.

“We were supposed to go eat Chinese tonight.” Namjoon suddenly says, Yoongi groans.

“Fuck. We're going to miss Chinese.”

“That pisses me off even more than the whole coke ordeal.”

“Call Hoseok, tell him we can't go.”

“Should I ask him to come with us?”

Yoongi thinks about it for a second, keeping the smoke in his lungs before he shakes his head and exhales. “He's too messy. I like this suit, I don't want blood on it.”

Namjoon takes his phone and starts typing, most likely a text for Hoseok. “He'll get pissy when he'll find out we didn't bring him with us.”

“He'll get over it.”

“Or maybe you should get over the blood on your suits.”

“Wow, did I ask?”

Namjoon snorts, then he locks his phone and pockets it, he brings the cigarette to his lips.

Yoongi sighs and starts massaging the bridge of his nose, his migraine steadily growing. “What the fuck is this ticking noise?”

Namjoon frowns. “What noise?”

“Can't you fucking hear it? It's so goddamn annoying, I don't know where it's coming from. I could hear it since you walked in.”

“Ah.” Namjoon rolls his eyes and then he lifts up his arm. Under the sleeve of his white shirt, Yoongi can see a watch, a simple and elegant design. “You can hear this ticking?”

“Yeah.” Yoongi admits.

“I'm sorry.” Namjoon takes the watch off his wrist and pockets it, the ticking gets significantly less loud. “I thought this one was pretty quiet, I could barely hear it ticking, so-”

“'s fine.” Yoongi brings the cigarette to his lips and takes one last long drag of smoke before he stubs it in the ashtray. “Let's go. The sooner we end this fucking thing the better, maybe we can even go take some Chinese food if we're quick enough.”

Namjoon scoffs as he gets up his chair. “I wouldn't count on it.”


 




Yoongi doesn't particularly like his job.

He knows that there's this whole myth of glory behind the figure of a drug lord: sex, drugs, whores and expensive champagne being poured in crystal flutes and stashes of money thrown over silk sheets. In reality, it's a whole lot of paperwork, migraines and sleepless nights.

Yoongi guesses that if you also don't have a conscience one might enjoy the job a bit more. Yoongi's moral compass might be a bit cracked but it still works perfectly fine. He just stopped trying to not step over the line a long time ago, as it did him no good to try and have nights free of nightmares. Hell, the nightmares only became more because of him trying to keep his hands as clean as possible, which is quite ironic. But karma is a bitch and she knows how to do her job just fine.

Namjoon drives the car into one of the middle districts, not particularly rich considering the state of the road on which the car is traveling, but there's worse out there, Yoongi saw it and breathed it. He sees what must be a fay standing by one of the alleys, he's not wearing much. He's a pretty thing, he won't last in the streets.

“There.” Namjoon says, Yoongi focuses on where his friend is pointing. It's a condo, must have been built recently, but all the lights are off. It is quite late, almost two in the morning, but still.

“Is it abandoned?”

“The apartments in it should be for sale in about a month or so.” Namjoon says as he drives the car closer to the curb slowly. “It's a good place to hide. No one's there.”

“But that works more for us than for him.” Yoongi says.

Namjoon parks the car and turns off the engine, he sends a look at Yoongi before he sighs and reaches for the glove compartment. He takes a gun out of it and, surprisingly, gloves. Yoongi feels like Namjoon is the only person who actually keeps gloves in that compartment.

“Should I get my stuff?” Namjoon asks as he secures the gun behind his back, tucking it beneath the belt of his pants, the jacket covers the weapon from sight.

Yoongi nods, he passes a hand through his black hair and clicks his tongue. “Okay, let's just go.”

They both step out of the car, Namjoon walks quickly around it and stops in front of the trunk, opening it and retrieving a black hardshell briefcase. He shuts the trunk close and then locks the car, then they both start walking to the entrance of the condo.

The front door has been forced open, probably by Ye-jun himself when he first came here.

“What floor?”

“Third.” Namjoon replies, walking ahead of Yoongi.

They find the stairs relatively easily considering how dark it is. They climb up slowly, making sure the soles of their shoes don't make too much noise on the smooth flooring. Once they reach the third floor, Namjoon nods at Yoongi to follow him. He's walking straight to the end of the corridor, ignoring completely the five doors at the side. Ye-jun must have thought that hiding in that last apartment was going to be a good idea as no one can see the windows of the flat from the street which, Yoongi will give it to him, isn't a terrible idea.

Once they're in front of the door, Namjoon reaches in the inside pocket of his jacket and grabs his lockpick set. Very carefully, Namjoon fits the tension wrench in the lock of the door, turning it slightly and then he places it at the bottom of the lock. Namjoon sniffs, then gets his metal rake from the small leather set that he then places back in his pocket before he gets back to work. Namjoon slides the rake inside the lock, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration, still applying a gentle pressure with the wrench. After a few seconds of moving the rake around, there's a soft clicking sound.

Namjoon sends Yoongi a glance, nods at him and then takes the gun from his belt. As soon as Namjoon opens the door, Yoongi can already see the silhouette of a man holding something up in the air, possibly a weapon of some sorts.

Ye-jun swings his arm, trying to hit Namjoon with whatever it is he's carrying, but Namjoon holds up his arm and grabs the man's wrist. Namjoon is fast in twisting the gun in his hand so that he can hit Ye-jun's temple with the bottom part of the grip of the weapon, hard enough for a jarring sound to reach Yoongi's ears.

Ye-jun groans and then falls to the ground, Namjoon grabs his arms and drags him further inside the flat.

Yoongi steps inside as well, closing the door behind him. He looks around and finds a switch on the wall, so he flips it on. Suddenly there's light in the apartment. It looks mostly empty if not for a bare mattress thrown on the floor, a chair, some clothes folded in a corner and packs of instant ramyun scattered around. There's also an electric stove, a kettle and a pot. And bottles of cheap liquor, some empty, some still have to be opened.

“He's out?” Yoongi asks.

“For a few minutes.” Namjoon manages to drag the unconscious body to the chair and he holds his body up so that he can drop Ye-jun on the seat. He steadies his body so that he won't fall back on the floor, then he sighs. “Why do I always have to do the dirty job?”

“You talk as if you're gonna do anything the moment he wakes up. Here.” Yoongi hands Namjoon his briefcase and the man takes it.

Namjoon places it on the floor, he opens it and gets the adhesive tape out. Yoongi leans against the floor and decides to have a cigarette as Namjoon does his part of the job.

Honestly, Namjoon is someone who's always worked quick. Yoongi always admired him for it, he doesn't like wasting time. He ties Ye-jun to the chair, rolling the tape around his torso and on the backrest of the chair several times. Then he gets on his knees and tapes the man's ankles to the legs of the chair as well.

Yoongi looks down and he frowns when he sees a metal baseball bat on the ground. That must've been what Ye-jun was holding when he tried to defend himself against Namjoon. It might come to use later.

“This place smells like shit.” Namjoon mutters once he's done, pats his hands together almost as if they're dirty with dust.

“Nah, he smells like shit.” Yoongi says, nodding at Ye-jun. “Water might not be working.”

“Electricity works though.”

“Then he must simply not give a shit about personal hygiene, which pisses me off even more.”

The living room in which they are is large, connected to an open kitchen, the corridor in front of him must lead to the bedrooms. It's a decent place. Maybe he should start considering the idea of investing in apartment complexes.

Ye-jun groans and stirs, Yoongi perks up at this and he walks to him, standing in front of the man and waiting for him to come to his senses, Namjoon stands back.

Ye-jun opens his eyes, blinking quickly, probably blinded by the light, his black hair unkempt and falling over his brow in greasy locks.

Once the man looks at Yoongi, the color on his face disappears.

“Ye-jun.” Yoongi tilts his head to the side. “'s a nice place you've got going on here. Your address, though, tells me you live in another house. In the expensive part of the city. Which district was it again?”

Mirinae district.” Namjoon replies.

“Ah, yeah. You live in a rich sector, in a rich apartment that you can afford because of the money I pay you with.” Yoongi licks his lips. “So what are you doing hiding in this shithole, Ye-jun?”

Ye-jun has the dignity to at least look scared. He opens his mouth to speak, but he closes it soon. He's not shaking, but Yoongi can see him swallowing hard.

“Prince Min, I-”

“Where's my coke, Ye-jun?” Yoongi takes a drag of his cigarette, blows out smoke and feels kind enough to give Ye-jun some time to think about his answer.

“Sir.” Ye-jun speaks with a very docile voice. It kind of pisses him off. “I don't know what-”

Yoongi's arm swings fast, the back of his hand colliding with Ye-jun's face hard enough for it to sting, the man's head twists to the side.

“Don't lie to my face. I don't like it.” Yoongi says, his migraine once more acting up. “I appreciate honesty in my men more than anything. You know shit about it, clearly, but maybe you might want to not feed me bullshit right in front of my goddamn face for the time being. Let's make this quick.”

Ye-jun presses his lips together. “I don't know anything about-”

Another slap, this one is harder, his knuckles hit Ye-jun's cheekbone and it's probably because of the ring Yoongi is wearing, but Ye-jun's skin opens, blood rising to the surface.

“What really fucking pisses me off,” Yoongi massages the back of his right hand. “is the fact that I give you a high position in one of the richest districts and then you're greedy enough to steal from me. It's fucking disgusting, where's your loyalty?”

Ye-jun stays quiet, staring at the floor.

“You're not gonna tell me where the coke is? Fine. Who was the other man with you?”

“I don't know.”

Fucking hell, this is going to be so annoying and stupid.

“Listen.” Yoongi sighs. “I don't want to be here. You want to get as less pain as possible from this. Let's help each other out. If you tell me who the other man is I'll go easy on you. Mh?”

Ye-jun makes a quiet sound that almost sounds like a whine, which only serves in making Yoongi just grow more annoyed with the whole situation.

“Sir, I- I really don't know what you're talking about, I swear.”

Another slap, this one hard enough to make Ye-jun cry out in pain, his head lolling down for a moment. Oh, Yoongi knows that this one sure as hell stung like a bitch.

“I'd be less mad if it were the cut shit that we sell on the street, but my pure coke?” Yoongi hisses. “Twenty fucking kilos of it? Do you have any idea of how annoying it is to lose billions like that, you fucking bitch?”

Ye-jun looks up at him, a frown on his face. “Billions? I-”

“Oh. No way, did he tell you it was worth less than that?” Yoongi scoffs. “No shit, he played you, didn't he? Doesn't that make you mad? You're in this situation because he fucked with you. Tell me his name, Ye-jun.”

And still, Ye-jun stays quiet. But Yoongi can see that his resolution is starting to crumble, he's shaking now.

“Namjoon, bring that baseball bat, will you?”

Namjoon moves immediately and Ye-jun's skin goes ashen.

“Wait!” he yells, writhing on the chair, trying to free himself and only managing to have the tape dig into his skin painfully. “I don't know anything! Prince Min, I swear I don't know where the coke is!”

“I believe you on that.” Yoongi sees Namjoon handing him the bat, so he takes it. It is heavier than he expected, the metal cool and smooth under his fingers. He gives it a swing, hears the moment the bat cuts the air in a sharp noise. “But you must know the other man's name. No one is stupid enough to work with someone who doesn't give you his name. Are you stupid, Ye-jun?”

Ye-jun doesn't answer him, he's too focused staring at the bat in his hand like it's the anti-christ or something, fear running wild in his eyes. Sweat is starting to break on his forehead, his lips are dry and his toes are curled.

“I'll break something with this. Any bone, you name it, I break it.” Yoongi takes a deep breath. “Tell me a name, Ye-jun.”

Ye-jun groans, he wriggles on the chair, bottom lip trapped between his teeth, looking so scared out of his mind already that Yoongi realizes it won't take him long. He shouldn't have canceled on Hoseok, maybe they would have made it just fine.

“I duh-don't know, Sir!” Ye-jun says. “I swear I don't know, you must believe me!”

Yoongi hums. “But I don't.”

Yoongi gets a more solid and steady grip on the bat and then swings it fast, making it collide with Ye-jun's knee. The sound is something chilling, the bone breaking so easily, Yoongi almost felt it in his hands at the moment the bat hit him. Ye-jun screams, writhing on the chair, trying to arch his back.

He throws his head back, spit dribbling down his chin.

Yoongi moves closer to Ye-jun and harshly grabs his hair, pulling his head down and then crouching in front of him, staring at him in the eyes without even blinking.

“That hurts?” he asks, Ye-jun is breathing hard, Yoongi gives his hair another hard thug. “Answer me, does it hurt?”

“Yuh-yeah, Prince Min.” Ye-jun whimpers, there's snot under his nose and his eyes are red with tears of either pain or fear.

“I'm gonna hurt you more if you don't tell me his name.” Yoongi lets go of the bat and he gets up on his feet, tugging at Ye-jun's hair, wrenching his head back. “You think I like this? I ain't some sicko, boy, I don't get off breaking your fucking bones. But, shit, if you don't tell me his fucking name I'm going to make you eat your own shit. You want that?”

“Nuh-no Sir I- I duh-don't want that.”

Yoongi nods. “His name.”

Ye-jun swallows and Yoongi can see the moment he gives up. He blinks and that little fight he had in his eyes is completely gone.

“His- his name is Kim Gun-woo.” Ye-jun finally says. “But I don't know where the coke is, Prince Min, I swear I don't!”

“And I already said I believe you on that. Elaborate. Who's this Gun-woo?”

Ye-jun makes a small pitiful sound, eyes welling up with tears. “I don't know, sir, I don't know who he is. He just- he came to me, he came to me when I was in the Chinese district. He- he knew me. Said he was guh-gonna give me a good cut of the profit if we stole the drugs.”

“So he's planning on selling it.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You don't know who he works for? If he works for someone?”

“He didn't tell me anything, Sir, I didn't ask.”

“You didn't, did you?” Yoongi snarls and Ye-jun tries to cower. “You fucking didn't, you just saw the opportunity to fucking rob me and decided to put your trust in a stranger. You betrayed me.”

Ye-jun tries to shake his head but Yoongi still has a solid grasp of his hair. “Nuh-no, Sir, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I just- I wasn't thinking.”

“You sure as fuck weren't. Betrayed your goddamn family. Thought we were family. All of us are, aren't we? You don't turn your back on family, Ye-jun.”

Which is a whole load of bullshit. Yoongi couldn't give less than a crap about the Family or whatever it is that he's supposed to call this, but he's just hoping to get more information. Maybe Ye-jun is a very good actor and he actually knows more. Most likely, though, he doesn't.

Ye-jun is a nobody and this Gun-woo knew it, that's why he came to him. He just needed someone to help him get to Yoongi's warehouse.

“I'm sorry, Prince Min, I'm sorry. Please, I- this is all I know, I promise, I told you everything!”

Yeah, he did.

“Good boy.” Yoongi lets go of his hair and he hears Ye-jun draw in a sharp breath of relief. Which, again, is quite stupid. “Namjoon, he's all yours.”

Namjoon, who has been leaning with his shoulder against the wall, perks up and takes one step forward. Ye-jun tries to kick his legs free of the tape, groaning when he tries to move his broken knee.

“Wuh-wait!” he yells. “I don't know where he is but- but there's this other guy.”

Oh?

“What other guy?” Yoongi asks, Ye-jun wets his lips, eyes darting from Yoongi to Namjoon frantically.

“Gun-woo talked about him sometimes, he- he used to brag about this whore he sees every week or something. Muh-maybe he knows where Gun-woo is, he talked a lot about this guy.”

Yoongi nods. “Does the whore have a name?”

“I don't- don't know his real name. Goes by Baby Doll. But I know he works in- in that club, Sir, the one in the Bulg-eun Baem district, sir! Your club.”

Yoongi frowns. “This Baby Doll works at Libellula?”

“Yes, Prince Min! I swear! Gun-woo talked about him a lot, Sir!”

Yoongi sends Namjoon a glance and the man nods.

“I see. Good boy, Ye-jun.” Yoongi smiles at the tied man, whose features relax immediately in relief. “As I was saying: Namjoon, he's all yours.”

Namjoon finally walks all the way to his briefcase, Ye-jun looks at Yoongi with wide eyes.

“No! No, you promised!”

“What?” Yoongi arches an eyebrow. “What did I promise? I don't make promises to pigs.”

“You said if-if I talked then you-”

“I would've went easy on you. And I am.” Yoongi points at Namjoon. “He'll kill you quickly. That's going easy on you.”

Namjoon takes from the briefcase a muffler and he quickly applies it to his CZ 75, locking it in place. He then gets up and stands in front of Ye-jun.

“Prince Min, please.” Ye-jun begs with a quiet voice, tears spilling free by now, his face white and limbs trembling. “I'm sorry.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi says. “Me too.”

And really, he means it.

Namjoon aims the gun towards Ye-jun, pulls the trigger and the bullet goes right through Ye-jun's skull, whose head flies backward. The bullet hits the wall and gets stuck there, cracking the material. Yoongi looks for a few seconds at the blood that is pooling on the ground beneath Ye-jun's head and he sighs.

“Well,” Namjoon says. “This was unpleasant.”

“Add this to the list of nightmares.”

“We leave him like this?”

“Send someone to clean up tomorrow. Tell them to dispose of the body somewhere, possibly not in one of our districts.”

Namjoon hums as he unrolls the muffler from the muzzle of the gun, he then puts it back in the briefcase and shuts it close. “What about the whore?”

Yoongi sighs. In one of his goddamn clubs, that's where this Baby Doll is. “We'll go tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Gun-woo has twenty kilos of pure coke to get rid of. He'll have to find some dealers, cut it, the asshole will probably try his best to make the most of it so he'll probably make it as low grade as possible. That takes time, so yeah. Tomorrow. I'm too tired and fucking hungry.” Yoongi turns around and goes back to the door, Namjoon follows him close. “And text Hoseok. Tell him that we are getting Chinese in the end, we'll be at his place in thirty.”

“Got it.” Namjoon and Yoongi step outside the apartment and Namjoon locks the door again, retrieving his picklocking set and putting it back in the breast pocket of his jacket. “What day is it today?”

Yoongi frowns. “Monday.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Namjoon groans. “It's only Monday.”

Shit, Namjoon is right. It's only Monday.

“We'll go early, before opening.” Yoongi says as they walk down the corridor and to the stairs. “We don't want to be seen when there are patrons already. Tell Jungkook he'll come with me, I'll need you to do some research with Seokjin on this Kim Gun-woo.”

“Yes.” They start climbing down the stairs and Namjoon clears his voice. “Does this mean you'll cancel tomorrow's dinner?”

Ah, fuck.

“Move it to Friday.” Yoongi mutters. “Tell her not to be too mad.”

Namjoon snorts. “As if it's gonna make a difference.”

Yeah, it really won't make any difference.

And it's only Monday.



 


 



His father has never been a fan of nightclubs and brothels. He found them crass and disgusting.

“You stick to what has class and brings money, Yoongi.” he used to say. “And that's drugs and territorial supremacy.”

The moment his old man had died and Yoongi got on the throne, the first thing he did was buying clubs, at least one in each district he had back then. The money came so quickly that it almost left him dizzy after the first month of the openings. Now Yoongi owns the money that comes from sex and perversion because, unlike his father, Yoongi understands people and what they want. When you live in a city like Seoul in times like these, you'll do anything to forget even for just a mere second how shitty your life is. Sex and alcohol will always help forget, especially with the right darlings working in a brothel that has silk sheets.



There's a song playing on the radio. An English ballad that Yoongi doesn't know, but Jungkook is humming to it, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel in time with the melody.

Yoongi looks at him for a few seconds and he can't quite keep a smile to himself. Jungkook is still young but his face is starting to lose the boyish appeal that it had a long time ago. His features are soft, he's got large eyes and his front teeth are a bit long, but he's incredibly handsome. That helps in Jungkook's particular sector, which is the main reason why Yoongi chose him for his job.

“So,” he starts, lighting up a cigarette. “This Baby Doll.”

Jungkook stops humming to the song and he frowns, stops at a red light. “What about him?”

“You know him?”

“Why should I know him?”

“You're the one who takes care of my goddamn clubs, kid.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “It's not like I know every single worker. I only know, like, one.”

Yoongi grins. “Do you now?”

Jungkook scoffs and yet his cheeks flush. God, he's such a fucking kid. “Not like that.”

“Right.”

“I mean it.”

“Sure, kiddo, I believe you.”

“No, you don't.” Jungkook starts the car again once the light turns green, he turns to the left. “Whatever. But if this guy works at the Libellula it means he's one of the expensive darlings.”

Yoongi hums, he rolls down the car window and exhales a lungful of smoke outside. “How expensive?”

Expensive. With a capital E and everything.”

Which means he's probably not a human. Fucking great. Yoongi prays that, at least, this Baby Doll isn't a Seelie because those fairies are annoying and too good at lying.

They finally reach Bulg-eun Baem, one of the districts that brings the most profit to Yoongi.

It's a rich district, expensive condos with luxurious flats, in almost every corner there are either Love Hotels, bars or nightclubs, Yoongi owns them all. This is his only pure district, the only one he doesn't share with any of the other families or smaller gangs. Yoongi wouldn't say he's proud of it, because he sure as hell isn't, but it does feel good to see that he built this. Not his father, just Yoongi.

Jungkook pulls the car to the curb in a free spot, the Libellula is a few meters away. He kills the engine and unlocks the seatbelt. “Does noona know we're coming?”

“Fuck no, she doesn't.” Yoongi mutters as he opens the car-door, he steps on the sidewalk and gets up, he throws the cigarette he had been smoking on the ground. “She would have given me hell for it.”

“She still will.” Jungkook says once he's out of the car as well, he slams the door close and then locks it. “Should we go?”

Yoongi nods and he fixes his leather jacket. He's dressed casually today, for he finds it wise to not give away what kind of position he has in one of his own districts. Jungkook, too, is dressed casually, just a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, with a hoodie shrugged on.

They make their way to the Libellula. The exterior is discreet, a simple lilac neon sign of a dragonfly on top of the entrance, black doors with obscured glass. Yoongi pushes them open and steps inside. It's clearly still empty as it doesn't open for the next hour, but there's already music playing even if in a low volume.

The corridor that brings them to the main hall is long and dimly lit by small wall-lamps, as they walk the music gets a bit louder but still quite subtle.

Once they reach the main hall, Yoongi is pleased to see that it hasn't changed one bit ever since he last came here, the night of the opening. Yoongi is the one who chose the furniture, decor and overall vibe he wanted the brothel to have.

The Libellula was supposed to be a simple club, with strippers and overall similar entertainment, but once he had realized how big the place was and that he could've added private boots up on the second floor, Yoongi had decided to change his initial plans. On the bottom floor, it is a simple club, with music and strippers on the large stage and two cages at each side of the room. Upstairs is the brothel, where most of the clients usually are. No one really comes to the Libellula for the normal entertainment.

The main hall is empty as of now, the stage clear if not for a staff member who is polishing the poles with a cloth. The lights are dim here as well but each light bulb is covered by a red glass vase so that shades of burgundy are cast all over the room. Yoongi looks to his right and he finds the bar, a smooth counter of dark polished wood that is still clean and free of drops of alcohol or melted ice. And behind the counter is Sunmi, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Oh.” she says, her red painted lips stretching into a pleased smile. “Yoongi. And our Kookie, too.”

“Noona.” Yoongi greets her, Jungkook bows to her and then they both walk to the counter.

Yoongi sits on one of the stools and Sunmi leans her elbows on the counter, locks of long black hair falling off her shoulder as she does so.

“I have to say, I am surprised to see you.” she pouts, batting her lashes. “You never come see noona anymore, Yoongi.”

“I know, I'm sorry.” Yoongi says, smiling at the woman. “But I'm busy, you know it.”

She hums, her playful pout is soon replaced by a grin. “Busy painting the city red, mh?” Sunmi turns to Jungkook. “And you, baby boy? Tae isn't working tonight, you know it.”

Oh?

Yoongi turns to Jungkook and finds him staring at the woman with a slack mouth and red ears.

“I-” Jungkook clears his voice. “I don't know what you're talking about. Yoongi-hyung needed me here, so. Yeah.”

“Oh, did I talk too much?”

“You always do, noona.” Yoongi replies. “Such a big mouth.”

“Yah!” she exclaims, glaring at him. “Don't be an ass to me. You're an ass to everyone, but you don't get to be an ass to me.”

“Why don't you give me something to drink, noona?”

“What's the magic word?”

“Please?”

“Good boy.” Sunmi smiles and swipes her thumb over Yoongi's cheek, who groans and pulls back. She chuckles and then turns around to the shelves of booze and liquors. She scans the bottles for a moment before grabbing one that contains Yoongi's favorite Whiskey, she puts it on the counter and then grabs a glass from under the desk.

“So.” Sunmi starts filling his glass and Yoongi has his eyes studying her thin wrist and long fingers. She always had pretty hands, Sunmi. Pretty everything, really. But Yoongi likes pretty hands. “Why are you here, Yoongi?”

Sunmi pushes the glass to him and Yoongi takes a sip of the drink, letting it rest on his tongue for a moment before he gulps it down, feeling it burn down his throat and to his stomach.

“How is Hyuna-noona doing?” Yoongi asks, Sunmi arches an eyebrow and crosses her arms.

“As whiny and petulant as ever. Why are you trying to change the subject?”

“We haven't seen her in a while either.” Yoongi notes, looking at Jungkook. “We should have dinner one of these days. On me.”

“Yoongi.”

“I need to speak to one of your darlings.”

Sunmi's eyes narrow, her lips thinning in a firm line and her hand twitches around her forearm.

“And why would you need that?”

“Why do you need to ask questions?”

“Because they're my darlings.”

“Technically, they're all mine.”

“Yoongi.” Sunmi grits out and Yoongi sighs.

It's not that he doesn't appreciate the love and care Sunmi has for the darlings of the brothel. In reality, it's the main reason as to why he hired her in the first place. The previous watcher of the brothel used to get his hands on the darlings a little bit too much and too forcefully for Yoongi's liking.

This is a dirty job with dirty clients and dirty actions, but he will not have his own workers be humiliated more than they already do.

“I won't hurt him. I need to ask him questions, he might know something important.”

“My darlings see a lot of important and rich men, Yoongi.” Sunmi says, her head tilted to the side. She starts tapping one of her fingers against the fair skin of her arm. “Of course they know stuff. But they also know they should keep their pretty mouths shut.”

“If I ask one of your darlings to talk then he'll talk. There's no discussing that.”

“Which is what worries me.”

“Noona.” Yoongi softens his voice. “Please. I need to see him.”

Sunmi seems to consider this, her eyes drifting off Yoongi's face, focusing on a point of the room, the song in the background fades away and another one starts.

“Which one is it?” she finally asks.

“Goes by Baby Doll.”

Sunmi's eyes are sharp once they're back on Yoongi. “Why him?”

Yoongi shrugs. “He's the one that has been named once I broke knees with a baseball bat.”

Sunmi rolls her eyes and she clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You don't touch him. You hear me?”

“I already said I'm not going to hurt him.”

“You don't even scare him off. He's one of the best darlings I have, Yoongi.” she says. “One of the most expensive, too.”

Yeah, Yoongi already heard it from Jungkook.

“What is he?” he asks. “If he's this expensive then he's not human. A Fay? Seelie?”

Sunmi swallows. “A succubus.”

Oh, for fuck's sake.

“Since when do we have succubi in my goddamn brothels?”

“He's the only one.” Sunmi says and then she sends him a knowing look. “Which is why you understand why I'm telling you not to hurt him or scare him. Am I right, Yoongi?”

Yeah, he does understand. Succubi bring profit. A lot of profit. Damn it.

“Fine.” Yoongi takes a long gulp of his drink, hissing once it settles in his stomach. “Got it. I'll be a whole fucking gentleman, even open the door for him and everything.”

Sunmi heaves a sigh. “Go to my office, I'll send him to you. He's getting ready now, just a few minutes.”

“Thank you, noona.” Yoongi smiles at her and she scoffs.

“Keep those pretty smiles for whoever you want to fuck, Yoongi, they don't fool me. Just go.”

Yoongi nods then he turns to Jungkook. “You wait for me here, don't go wander off.”

Jungkook frowns. “Where would I even go?”

“I don't know, why don't you ask Tae?”

“Oh, shut up, hyung.”

Yoongi snorts at the quick flush that colors the younger's cheeks and he gets off the stool, heading for Sunmi's office.

The office is located right behind the stage, after a door that states in bold letters that only staff members can go in. Yoongi pushes it open and finds himself in Sunmi's office.

This particular room most definitely changed since Yoongi's last seen it.

The desk and chair are still the same, but now there are pretty paintings hanging on the walls, fresh flowers in a beautiful porcelain vase by the window, a beautifully embroidered tapestry pinned to the wall behind the desk. Yoongi walks around it and sits in the chair, smiling once he notices the framed picture on the desk beside the laptop. It's Hyuna and Sunmi, both smiling wide as Hyuna presses her lips to Sunmi's cheek. God, Yoongi misses Hyuna sometimes. It's been ages since he last saw her.

He sees an ashtray in front of him, a plastic pink one with the print of a flower in the middle. Yoongi grins at it, remembering when he gave it to Sunmi as a birthday gift and she almost threw it in his face. But she kept it, he sees.

He reaches into his breast pocket and gets his cigarettes out, quickly lighting up one and inhaling slowly. His phone buzzes against his thigh and Yoongi gets it out of the pocket of the jeans, unlocking it and groaning at the sight of the texts.


HOSEOK: this is so fucking boring

HOSEOK: why do I always get the shitty jobs


Y.: didnt know there were parts of this job that werent shitty

Y: whats wrong


HOSEOK: Yoongi-hyung and grammar, two different worlds


Y: kiss my ass

Y: did you find anything or are you just bothering me


HOSEOK: I dont know if you talked to this Doll

HOSEOK: but I have nothing


Y: nothing??


HOSEOK: jin-hyung is just as surprised

HOSEOK: it's like this Gun-woo is a ghost

HOSEOK: no one knows him, there's no trace of any records of him in the police archives, we have nothing but dust


Y.: piece of shit must have given Ye-jun a fake name

Y.: Im about to speak with Doll

Y.: I'll text you if I have news


HOSEOK: tell me if he's pretty


Y.: get back to work you thirsty asshole




Yoongi hears the doorknob twisting so he quickly locks the phone and puts it back in his pocket.

Once the door opens Yoongi realizes that he wasn't prepared.

The moment Baby Doll walks in, it is obvious that he's a succubus. Humans don't look like that and it's a fact. No normal human being can look that good. It's not even a fact of being attractive, Yoongi is talking about sheer beauty. Doll has a face that is so pretty Yoongi struggles to even comprehend how it is possible to have someone like him in this world, droopy dark eyes and a straight nose that fit his bone structure too well. His hair is of an unnatural blond color, falling messily over his brow in soft waves.

Yoongi's eyes travel down the body of the succubus and his throat runs dry. He's petite but toned, with a skin that looks like it has been kissed by the sun. But what has Yoongi's hand clench around the edge of the desk is the robe the young man is wearing: it's black and short, it barely reaches the middle of his thighs and the fabric is so sheer that everything is exposed. And when he says everything, Yoongi means it. It's secured close by a black ribbon, but it looks like it would be so easy to open it and just see him completely nude- which is a thought that Yoongi annoyingly doesn't manage to ignore.

Doll closes the door behind him, his eyes set on Yoongi. “Enjoying it?”

Yoongi looks at him. “What?”

“The sight. You look like you are.” Doll smiles sweetly, but Yoongi can see the mirth in his eyes.

Fucking cocky brat.

“Sit.” Yoongi instructs him, pointing at the chair that is opposite to him on the other side of the desk.

Doll looks at it for a moment, making no sign of wanting to sit.

“You know, if you wanted an hour with me you could have just booked me.” he says, his voice is nice, a warm timber. “No need to get me in Sunmi's office.”

“Did I stutter?” Yoongi arches an eyebrow. “I said, sit.”

Doll looks at him for a few more seconds before he heaves a sigh and moves to sit on the chair. Once he does, Yoongi is hit with a scent that has his mouth water. It's- it's hard to describe, it's almost like flowers but far stronger than that, more alluring. There's amber somewhere in that scent, too. It's rich.

Doll then folds a leg over the other, the flesh of his thighs completely exposed, the cut of the robe is so low that Yoongi can almost see where the stomach meets navel.

Fucking succubi.

“Why am I here?” Doll asks.

“Do you know who I am?”

Doll shakes his head, a faint smile still on his lips. Pretty lips. Full and shining with what must be gloss.

“Min Yoongi.”

The smile doesn't falter, but his eyes widen slightly.

“Oh.” he says. “You're my boss.”

Yoongi brings the cigarette to his lips. “Technically.”

“Didn't know that Min Yoongi was such a pretty boy.”

“Didn't know I gave you permission to speak.”

Doll arches an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“You speak when I ask you questions.” Yoongi has promised Sunmi he won't scare the darling, that doesn't mean he will just sit and let him speak whatever goes through his mind. “What's your real name?”

Doll scoffs. “Why would I tell you that?”

Yoongi taps his cigarette over the ashtray. “'Cause I asked you to.”

Doll's lips twitch for a second in an annoyed sneer, his eyes narrowing. He doesn't like it when people boss him around like this, clearly.

“Jimin.” he finally says.

“Jimin. I think you might have some information that I need.”

Jimin hums, he crosses his arms over his stomach, the fabric of the robe slides off one of his shoulders and Yoongi isn't sure it's completely by accident.

“About?” Jimin prompts.

“A certain man.”

“You'll have to be more specific than this, darling.” Jimin says, his eyes now on the hand with which Yoongi holds the cigarette. “I meet a lot of men every night.”

Yoongi nods. “I'm sure you do. What about Kim Gun-woo?”

Nothing in Jimin's posture or expression changes, he remains as neutral as before, which kind of pisses Yoongi off.

“Don't know him.” Jimin says with a shrug.

“'s that so?”

“I'm positive.”

“I have reasons to believe otherwise.”

“Offer me a cigarette and my memory could come back.”

This fucking-

Yoongi clicks his tongue and then grabs his pack of cigs again, opening the lid and handing it out to Jimin. The succubus unfolds his arms and takes one cigarette and- oh, those are pretty hands. Such pretty hands, with slightly long nails, skin smooth and short fingers, silver rings on his middle finger and on his thumb.

Jimin puts the cigarette between his lips and then leans forward, arching an eyebrow. Yoongi keeps a sigh to himself and he takes the lighter from the desk, pushes down the switch to let the flame come alight and he lights up Jimin's cigarette. The succubus inhales, cheeks hollowing, lips pursed around the stick of tobacco. He leans back against the chair then, takes the cigarette between his index and middle finger and breathes out a cloud of smoke.

“What has he done?”

“That's none of your concerns.”

“Mmmh, but it is.” Jimin grins. “You came all this way to talk to me, he must have done something bad.”

“He did.” Yoongi presses his lips together when Jimin shows no sign of wanting to speak. “He stole from me.”

“Is that so?” Jimin inhales more smoke. “What do you want to know?”

“Who is he?”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know.”

Jimin shrugs. “I know he's shady. I guess he's part of a gang or something? There are so many nowadays, all shitty and ridiculous gangs full of people who think they can watch the world burn as they sit on a throne made of cash, I wouldn't be surprised if he is in one of them.”

The picture Jimin just drew of the new small gangs, full of pathetic and arrogant kids who think they can sit at the adult's table is quite realistic.

Yoongi takes one last drag of his cigarette and then he stubs it in the ashtray that he then pushes closer to Jimin. “Is Kim Gun-woo his real name?”

Jimin frowns at this. “I guess so? I mean, to book the service of one of us you need to be a member of the club, so he had to give his ID to Sunmi. Then again,” Jimin lets some ash fall in the pink ashtray. “ID might have been fake. He introduced himself as Gun-woo and that's how I called him.” he pauses. “Apart from daddy.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes and Jimin pouts. “It's not like I enjoyed calling him that.”

“That's irrelevant.” Yoongi replies. “How long has he been one of your clients?”

“Three months.” Jimin answers, he puts his wrist (thin wrist, pretty) on the armrest of the chair and Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath once he can see that the robe slid so far off his shoulder that he can now perfectly see his nipple. “He came every Wednesday, every week, he wouldn't miss a day. He had a thing for me.”

Yoongi waits for him to elaborate, but Jimin doesn't. “A thing?”

Jimin nods. “It's not uncommon. Men fall in love with whores all the time. He used to say he wanted to cover me in all things pretty and stuff like that. Promised he would get me out of here as soon as he had some money.” Jimin rolls his eyes and then starts examininig his nails. “As if I'd go anywhere with the fucker. He's ugly.”

“Did he ever say anything about suddenly having that money?”

Jimin looks back at Yoongi before he takes another drag of smoke. “He said something about an idea he had to get money. That it would be soon, but this was three weeks ago or so.” he pauses. “Did he steal your money?”

“Something like that.” Yoongi clears his voice. “Are you sure you don't know anything about him? He never mentioned anything about his work? Affiliated gangs, anything?”

Jimin shrugs. “To me he's just a customer.” he then looks down to his wrist, lips turning down in disgust. “A shit customer.”

Yoongi makes a mental note of this reaction. Shitty customer, must have done something nasty to Jimin. Jimin doesn't like Gun-woo, that's obvious, but this goes past simple indifference or dislike. Jimin seems to despise him.

“If you're scared of him,” Yoongi starts, Jimin's eyes are back on him. “don't be. If you're not talking because you're afraid of the consequences, forget about it. If you tell me everything you know I'll make sure nothing happens to you.”

“I don't need your protection.” Jimin retorts evenly. “I'm more than able to take care of myself.”

“I'm not saying you aren't.” Yoongi tilts his head to the side. “Is it about money? 'Cause if you talk, I'll give you that as well.”

Jimin laughs at this. An actually amused laughter, it sounds lovely and Yoongi would appreciate it more if only Jimin's eyes weren't throwing daggers at him.

“Money.” Jimin shakes his head. “As if I need money.” he looks at Yoongi and takes one last drag of his cigarette before he drops it in the ashtray. “Darling, I'm not a fucking street hooker. Do you have any idea of how much a client is willing to pay so that he can fuck a succubus?”

Yoongi stays quiet.

“A whole fucking lot.” Jimin says, looking so smug that Yoongi is starting to actually hate the kid. “Money is something that I have. Far too much, really.”

“If you have it then what are you doing in one of my brothels?”

At this, Jimin's amused smile morphs into a smirk, eyes dark and suddenly the air is too thick. Jimin leans in once more, this time even closer, his scent is strong and so damn fucking good that Yoongi can feel heat buzzing under his skin.

“I'm a succubus, darling. Sex is the one thing I need. I feed on it.” Jimin tilts his head to the side, eyes traveling along Yoongi's face. “The filthier the better, this place is full of men who wish for nothing more than having their fantasies fulfilled. And I'm a lover of fantasies. Especially if I get paid so nicely for them.”

Yoongi clenches his jaw, he tries to swallow but his throat is tight and Jimin's scent is the only damn thing he can smell, even stronger than the stale stench of the burnt out cigarettes and ash.

“So it's all you know about Gun-woo?” Yoongi manages to say, Jimin's eyes are now focused on his own once again.

“Yes.” Jimin finally pulls back and Yoongi can breathe. “As I said, he was just a client that was obsessed with me. I knew he's somewhat shady, but most of the people who come here are.”

Shit.

This was a complete waste of time.

“Anything else?” Yoongi asks, feeling desperate. “I mean it, anything. Anything he might have mentioned.”

“Shit, darling.” Jimin snorts. “Just what has he stolen from you to make you so stubborn?”

“It's not a matter of what he stole, it's the fact that he thought he could walk away with something of mine and his cock still hanging between his legs that pisses me off.” Yoongi says through gritted teeth.

No matter how much he thinks about it, he still can't calm down. It's driving him mad knowing that a nobody managed to steal from him, to steal his drugs.

But it's his father's fault, really. He's the one who made him this way, the fucking prick.

Jimin licks his lips and then he hums, a concentrated frown on his face. “He never really talked much, only about- about plans, you know? Money, he really wanted money. Oh.” Jimin blinks. “The watch.”

“Watch?”

“He had a watch, an expensive one.” Jimin replies. “It was the only thing he never took off, but one day it was gone. It was the same day he brought me a present, a necklace. A pretty necklace, real gold. I asked him about the watch and he just said not to worry about it but it didn't take me much to understand that he sold it so that he could buy me the gift. This was- four weeks ago? Yeah, four weeks.”

God, at last.

It's not much, but it's something. Yoongi can get something out of this, he knows he can.

“You're sure about it?” he asks. “You're sure he sold it to buy you a gift?”

Jimin shrugs. “Really, I'm not lying when I said he was obsessed with me. Sometimes I found him sneaking by the brothel at closing hours to see me come out. He once followed me for a while before he stopped, I don't think he knows I saw him.”

“Okay.” Yoongi nods. “Okay, thank you.”

“We're done?”

“We are.”

“Well, then I'm off.”

“Wait.” Yoongi grabs a pen from the desk and then he looks for some paper. He finds in the top drawer of the desk some yellow post its and he tears one off the bulk. “This is my number.” he says as he writes the digits down. “If anything comes to mind, anything, call me. Or text me, whichever is fine.”

Jimin eyes the post it suspiciously for a few seconds, not taking it from Yoongi's hand once he hands it to him. Then Jimin sighs and takes the piece of paper.

“I highly doubt I'll remember anything else, I really told you all I know.”

“Just in case.” Yoongi stands up from the chair, so does Jimin. “Thank you for your help, you're free to go.”

Jimin hums and he turns around, walking back to the door. Yoongi can't help but notice the sway to his hips, he doubts it's a natural thing, most likely something Jimin is doing on purpose- but Yoongi is only human and, shit, it works. Especially considering that the sheer material of the robe really does a poor job at covering Jimin's ass.

The succubus opens the door and then turns around. “Ah, if you ever feel like coming again, don't do it as Min Yoongi.” Jimin says with a lazy smirk. “Do it as a client.”

And then he's off, leaving Yoongi alone in the room with that floral scent still lingering in the air.

God, this is why Yoongi doesn't trust succubi. They have too many weapons hidden.

Yoongi takes a deep breath, which was a mistake because that scent goes straight to his lungs, it's so sweet that he can almost taste it on his tongue. He quickly shakes himself out of it and then walks around the desk and heads out the room, quick steps bring him back to the bar counter.

“Did it go well?” Jungkook asks once he sees him, Yoongi nods.

“I have something, at least. Let's go, the sooner the better.”

“You didn't mistreat my darling, have you?” Sunmi asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I didn't lay a finger on him and even gave him one of my cigarettes, noona.” Yoongi replies. “Told you. A gentleman.”

Sunmi hums, grinning. “He's a pretty one, isn't he?”

“I'm not having this conversation.” Yoongi mutters. “Either way, we have to go now. But I'll try to hear from you and Hyuna more.”

“Do that, Yoongi. I've missed you more than I care to admit.” Sunmi then turns to Jungkook. “You take care of yourself, baby boy.”

“I will, noona.”

“And I will make sure to tell Tae you came by.” she adds, winking at Jungkook.

“Please, don't.” Jungkook groans, once again blushing and quickly walking away.

Yoongi decides not to ask who this Tae is or why Jungkook knows him. He learned a long time ago that the less he knows of the shit Jungkook does, the better it is.

“Call Seokjin and Hoseok.” Yoongi tells Jungkook once they're out the Libellula. “Tell them to be at the penthouse in ten, we'll have some digging to do.”

“This Kim Gun-woo,” Jungkook replies as he takes his phone from the pocket of his black hoodie. “Hoseok-hyung texted me and told me he found nothing on him.”

“Yeah.”

“You think he's ghosting?”

“Either that, or unregistered.”

“Or not human.”

Yoongi stops walking at this, Jungkook halts as well and looks at him. Yoongi didn't consider this factor. If Gun-woo isn't a human then he'd be ten times easier for him to be off the radar. Then again-

“Jimin didn't mention him being a non-human.”

Jungkook arches an eyebrow. “And you trust him?”

“Do I have reasons not to?”

“He's a succubus. Not a human. And you know more than me how good they all are when it comes to lying.”

Yoongi scoffs. “You ever expressed your opinion on their loyalty to that Tae of yours?”

Jungkook this time doesn't blush, he just rolls his eyes and starts walking again. “As a matter of fact, I don't trust Tae at all. And he knows it very well.”

Jesus Christ, what has Jungkook gotten himself into this time? And how come that Yoongi manages to control half of a city but can't even have a grasp on Jungkook's life once he's out of his penthouse? This is ridiculous.

“I'll drive, give me the keys.” Yoongi says, Jungkook gets the keys out of his pockets and hands them to Yoongi.

They get inside the car in silence, Yoongi starts the engine and pulls away from the curb. “You alright, kid?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook frowns. “Why are you asking?”

“No reason.” Yoongi says once he manages to bring the car in the traffic, with the evening beginning the district is starting to come alive. “Just- well, I'd like if you told me about your issues if you have issues.”

There's silence then for a few seconds, Yoongi can feel Jungkook's gaze on his face.

“Since when the fuck do you care about my issues?”

Yoongi clicks his tongue. “Ungrateful fucking brat, I basically raised you.”

“Jin-hyung raised me.”

“Okay, half-raised you. Whatever.”

“I'm fine, hyung.” Jungkook replies with a quiet voice before he looks out the window. “Whatever issue I have, I can deal with it perfectly fine on my own. And whatever you think the deal between me and Tae is, you're probably wrong.”

Which means that it's probably far worse than what Yoongi was thinking about in the first place. Great.

Yoongi sighs and speeds up the car, burning a red light and ignoring Jungkook's undignified noise he makes at the infraction.

God, he wishes he could have at least one day without having to worry about one of his dongsaengs. Just one fucking day, it's not like he asks for much. But okay, Yoongi takes what he can get because that's how life works and there's nothing he can do about it.

He keeps driving to the penthouse silently as Jungkook picks his phone and calls Hoseok and Seokjin.






“He sold a watch so that he could buy a gift for a prostitute?” Seokjin repeats, eyes wide in surprise. “Is he a complete idiot, or-”

“Wait, wait.” Hoseok holds up a finger and then bites into his slice of pizza as he sits on Yoongi's carpet. An expensive carpet. And Hoseok is eating pizza on it, with oil and sauce dribbling down his hand and Yoongi swears to God that if Hoseok stains his goddamn carpet, then- “Let's not be so quick in bashing this guy. Hyung.”

“What?” Yoongi asks tiredly, already feeling like calling those two was a mistake.

“How pretty is this succubus?”

The prettiest fucking thing he's ever laid eyes on.

“He's alright.” he says, Jungkook snorts around his gulp of soda.

“Shit!” he exclaims, looking at Yoongi like he just suddenly grew two extra heads. “Listen to him. He's alright. He came out of that office looking like a goddamn Ghost Chili.”

Hoseok dissolves in that obnoxious loud laughter of his, Seokjin is trying to hide his own grin behind a napkin.

“And by the way, I saw him. The prostitute.” Jungkook adds. “And he's not just alright.”

“Okay.” Seokjin nods. “Which means that it is likely that Gun-woo bought him this necklace.”

Yoongi starts rubbing the back of his neck, feeling it stiff and aching. “Jimin said Gun-woo was obsessed with him.”

“Wasn't it Baby Doll?” Hoseok asks with a frown.

“Well, that obviously isn't his real name, Seoksie.” Yoongi mutters, earning a glare from the orange-haired man. “Either way, I'd keep tabs on Jimin as well. Have maybe Namjoon keep an eye on him, if it's true that Gun-woo is obsessed with him he might come back to the brothel or show up at Jimin's house.”

“Why are you so hellbent on finding this Gun-woo?” Jin asks with a raised eyebrow. “It's just cocaine, Yoongi.”

“It's money that I won't see again and a stain on my goddamn reputation.” Yoongi replies. “Especially if he starts selling it and the voice comes out that there's cheap coke on the street and it apparently once belonged to me. I'm not having that shit.”

Seokjin raises both of his arms in surrender. “Fine. What do we do with this information about the watch?”

“Jimin said the necklace was real gold and that the watch he gave away was expensive.” Yoongi says. “I'll need you two to make some calls and find who bought it and where he bought the necklace.”

Hoseok groans. “Always such shitty jobs. It's going to take forever.”

“He couldn't have sold the watch just anywhere. He must have done it in a serious pawn shop or something, somewhere that can give him actual money. Same goes for the necklace.” Jungkook says and Yoongi nods at him.

“The jewelers that accept cash aren't many and most of them are in our districts. As far as Pawn Shops go, see if there are some close to said jewelers. I have a feeling he stayed in our districts, or maybe in one of the affiliated families, the rich ones. You can't expect to get much money from shops that are in the low districts.”

Hoseok shoves a large bite of pizza in his mouth and then he licks his fingers clean of the oil and sauce. “Okay. Got a couple of contacts down in the Huin Nabi district, I can have them run some check-ups for me in some of the shops as we focus on the others.”

Seokjin takes his phone out of the breast pocket of his jacket and he starts typing something. “I'll talk with our shops and tomorrow morning I'll send someone to the jewelers in the districts. I believe we only have stores in three districts?”

“I believe so.” Yoongi stands up. “You do that, I have to call Namjoon now.”

Hoseok hums, already starting to send texts to his contacts, so Yoongi stands up from his armchair and leaves the living room, heading to his office.

He closes the door behind him and sits behind his desk, gets a cigarette between his lips and lights it up, then he scrolls through the contacts of his phone until he finds Namjoon's. He taps on it and brings the phone to his ear, waiting for the man to pick up.

“Hyung.”

“I need you to keep tabs on someone.”

“Okay.” Namjoon replies, Yoongi hears a metallic sound coming from the other side of the phone. “Who?”

“Park Jimin.”

“Who's that?”

“Baby Doll.”

“Oh.” Namjoon pauses. “Okay.”

“Ask Sunmi for Jimin's schedule and shifts, tell her I asked you to. She will probably bitch about it for a while, just humor her.”

Yoongi hears Namjoon sighing. “Why do I always have to listen to her whining?”

“I pay you to do that.” Yoongi mutters before taking a drag of smoke. “Either way, make sure to stay in front of the club every time he enters and every time he leaves. Inside the club when he's working.”

“I'm looking out for-?”

“For anything unusual. For Kim Gun-woo, too. Apparently, he used to go there every Wednesday.”

“Tomorrow is Wednesday.”

“Why do you think I'm telling you now?”

“Okay, what else?”

“If you see people who look like they might be in one of those small new gangs, make sure you don't lose them. Keep an eye on who Jimin talks to and the clients that go to his room, ask Sunmi to tell you which of them are there for Jimin.” Yoongi sniffs hard, taps on his cigarette. “Jimin said he doesn't know shit about Gun-woo but, for all I know, he could have been lying. So keep an eye on him.”

“Okay.” Namjoon pauses, he's probably in the process of writing down somewhere all of Yoongi's instructions, he likes being precise. “You want me to follow him home, too?”

Yoongi thinks about it for a few seconds. “Only tomorrow. Just to see if he meets with someone. Otherwise, follow him home only if there's someone with him.”

“How do I recognize him, what does he look like?”

Yoongi scoffs. “Trust me, you'll recognize him just fine.”

“That pretty?”

“He's a succubus.”

“Fuck.” Namjoon hisses. “So, more than pretty.”

Yoongi decides to not add anything to Namjoon's last statement. “He's got blond hair, you'll recognize him just fine.”

“You think Gun-woo will go back for Jimin?” there's a subtle scratching sound coming from the phone. Yoongi wouldn't be surprised if Namjoon is scratching the side of his head, he does that when he's focused.

Yoongi hums, exhales through his nose grey smoke. “Jimin said Gun-woo was obsessed with him. Brought him gifts, sometimes would wait for him to come out once his shift was over.”

“Tsk.” Namjoon chuckles quietly. “Falling in love with a whore. Not a good idea.”

“Indeed.” Yoongi twists his head to the left and he looks out the glass wall. Seoul's night is stained with lights still turned on, most of them will never go out, lilac and red neon in the still alive parts of the districts. For some reason, the thought annoys him. But there's a lot of things that annoy Yoongi and he stopped keeping count a long time ago. “Any more questions?”

“Actually,” Namjoon clears his voice. “That dinner.”

Ah, fuck.

“What about it?”

“She wasn't happy.”

“And?”

“I couldn't reschedule it to Friday. It's this Thursday.”

Yoongi sighs. “Where?”

“Usual restaurant, usual hour.”

“I hate French food and the bitch knows it.”

“Yoongi-”

“I know.” Yoongi nods to himself. “Okay, fine. Thank you, Namjoon.”

“I'm sorry I couldn't do more.”

“No, it's fine, you did enough. You just focus on keeping eyes on Jimin.”

“I'll do that, hyung. Don't worry about the dinner too much, mh?”

Right.

“Okay.” Yoongi replies. “Thank you, Joon, I'll hear from you tomorrow.”

“Good night, hyung.”

Yoongi ends the call and puts the phone on the desk before he swirls his chair around so that he's facing the glass wall and he leans against the backrest fully.

He stares at the city once more, can see cars on the street, from this height they're nothing but small dots of yellow headlights, blurred and disappearing quickly.

Why is this annoying him? No, scratch that, he knows why.

The real question is, why is he noticing the view only now? Fuck, Hoseok is right, Yoongi is slow at picking up on things.

Yoongi brings the cigarette to his mouth and takes a long drag, long enough for it to burn his lungs once he inhales.


“You always have a view, Yoongi.” His old man told him once, as he was looking out a wall eerily similar to the one Yoongi has now in his penthouse. “You must have a view of the city close to you. You must see what you've accomplished and what you hope to accomplish. You paint this city with your colors, be sure to recognize them every time you look at this city. It's your empire.”


It's a pigsty.

It may look pretty, but it's filthy and animals walk on the streets. This is why it's pissing him off.

Fuck his old man, the prick, always comes back to his head. It's like, even now that he's buried six feet under the ground, he keeps breathing down Yoongi's neck. He spat on every single Yoongi owns just to remind him that he existed.

So goddamn selfish.

The cigarette is burnt down to the filter, ash hanging on it precariously until it breaks and falls on Yoongi's leg. He looks at the mess on his jeans for a while before he swats it off.

“Fucking piece of shit.” he murmurs before swirling the chair around and tries to ignore the fact that there's glass behind him.




 

 

 


JOON: shit


ME: what


JOON: he's so


ME: yeah


JOON: holy shit

JOON: you should have fucking warned me, almost choked on my goddamn water when I saw him


ME: I did warn you

ME: succubus


JOON: Yoongi, I've seen plenty of succubi and none of them were as pretty as this one


ME: do you have something of actual importance for me or?


JOON: no one came for him tonight

JOON: no one we care about, at least. Definitely no Gun-woo

JOON: followed him home, he didn't meet with anyone, went straight to his house

JOON: btw, kid lives in a goddamn palace in fucking Huin Nabi

JOON: he's richer than I am


ME: doesnt take much to be richer than you


JOON: screw you

JOON: either way, nothing happened


ME: K

ME: thanks


 


 

 

 

Yoongi is not completely unreasonable, so he won't entirely blame the woman sitting across him for his terrible mood.

She's contributing big time to it, sure, but it's not completely her fault.

The research on Gun-woo has given absolutely no results so far, which has been truly messing with Yoongi's head. Seokjin and Hoseok have been calling and visiting Pawn Shops, gold buyers, jewelers and still nothing has come up.

At this point, it's not even about Gun-woo's absence from the records, which could have been because of the possibility of him not being a human.

It's like he doesn't even exist.

Jungkook said something about him being a ghost and Yoongi is starting to believe him. Apart from the registered membership of the Libellula, there's no trace of Gun-woo.

Really, it's enraging him more than Yoongi would like to admit.

“You're not eating?”

Yoongi looks up from his plate, a serving of Blanquette de Veau, and stares at the woman for a few seconds.

“I don't like French food.” Yoongi says. “You know I don't.”

She hums, dabs on the corner of her mouth with a napkin. Her nails look like they're fresh out of a salon.

“But I do.” she replies evenly before she neatly cuts a small part of her Tartare with the side of the fork.

Raw meat. It suits her, really. Of course that woman would eat raw meat and actually enjoy it.

“I know you do.” Yoongi takes his glass and sips the wine. At least that is something he enjoys. “How is business going?”

“Well.” the woman arches a perfect eyebrow, pushes black hair behind her shoulder. “Since when do you care?”

Yoongi smiles. “Seohyeon.”

“Yes?”

“I don't give a fuck about your business.”

Seohyeon's face remains neutral except for the briefest twitch of her upper lip. “Of course you don't.” she then sighs, takes her own glass of red wine in her hands. She has pretty hands.

She is pretty. She's always been, Yoongi guesses that must be the reason his father used to fuck her and toss money at her once he was done with her.

“But I do care about how your business is going.” Seohyeon says, once more taking another bite of the Tartare. “So. How is it going?”

“This restaurant is mine.”

“I know.”

“So I'd say it's going well.” Yoongi looks away from her. Sometimes he can't stand her sight. It's not all the time, just- just when she reminds him of his old man. Which isn't that often, but still. “Especially the Bulg-eun Baem district.”

Seohyeon's grip around her fork tightens. “You mean your sex district.” she grits out.

Yoongi shrugs. “Call it however you want it.”

“It's disgusting, that place.” she says with a low voice, almost as if someone could hear them even though they're sitting in the private dining area. It's literally just them in this room.

“Mmh.”

“Your father would be ashamed of it.”

Fucking hell, this woman.

“Funny thing to say, considering that's exactly where he first met you.”

Seohyeon looks at him, eyes narrow and her jaw clenched. “Yoongi-”

“What? You're going to scold me?” Yoongi clicks his tongue, feeling another headache building behind his eyes. “Go for it, since the old man can't do it anymore. He's too busy rotting away and getting eaten by worms.”

“You're such a-” Seohyeon cuts herself off, taking a deep breath. “Why would you speak of him like this?”

“I speak of him however I damn like.” Yoongi drinks some more of his wine, savoring the rich taste of it. “Do we really have to keep doing this? The dinners?”

“We do.”

“It's a miracle we don't end up trying to gauge each other's eyes out with the shell of an oyster at the end of these meals.”

“It's what your father wanted.” Seohyeon says, openly glaring at him. “The one thing he asked of us in that will. Nothing else. Just to meet for dinner once a month.” she shakes her head, suddenly looking sad. “He just wanted us to find comfort in each other after his passing.”

God, she's so naive. A whore falls in love with a drug lord and she really believes that maybe he felt something for her. Yoongi could pity her, if only she weren't so unbearable.

Again, not her fault. Domino effect, really. Seohyeon was his, therefore she reminds Yoongi of him.

“No.” Yoongi mutters. “He wanted us to hate each other even more.”

“You always thought bad of him.” Seohyeon says, her lipstick is fading on her mouth. “Sometimes I think you never even tried to know him.”

Shit.

Yoongi's fingers twitch around the glass of wine. “I knew who my father was. Knew what he's been until his last breath. You, however, never did.” he pauses. “Which really makes you lucky.”

“You're eloquent today. You rarely speak that much, are you doing it just to get on my nerves?”

“Yes.” Yoongi sighs. “It's easy to get on your nerves. You're a stupid woman.”

“You-”

“Not because you're not smart. You are, actually. Or maybe you have been, once.” Yoongi licks his lips, his mouth feels dry but he doesn't want more wine. “The moment you got in his bed you became stupid.”

Yoongi's phone buzzes in his breast pocket as soon as she opens her mouth to say something. He holds up a hand and she presses her lips together, Yoongi takes the phone and picks up as soon as he sees Namjoon's name on the screen.

“Yes?”

“There's movement.” Namjoon says, he must be either in the entrance corridor or outside, as the loud music can only be heard faintly in the background.

“What kind of movement?”

“Three men walked in, they had a tattoo.”

“The same?”

“Couldn't see well in the dark, but everyone had a tattoo on the back of their necks.”

“Did they go upstairs?”

“Not yet, they're just drinking. But they're a gang, for sure, and not one of our districts.”

“I'll be there soon.” Yoongi ends the call and stands up as he puts his phone back in the pocket. “Shame, but I must go. Work.”

“Of course.” Seohyeon mutters, eyeing him with anger clearly flashing on her pretty face. “Another excuse to run away.”

“I'm not running away, I'm going to walk at a very comfortable pace.” Yoongi grabs his wallet, takes some bills out and throws them on the table. “Get some dessert, Seohyeon. I'll see you next month.”





Jungkook stops the car in front of the Libellula, they both get out of the vehicle and shut the doors fast.

They enter in a moment, the bouncer barely has time to look at Yoongi in the face to know who he is, once they're in the corridor Yoongi sees Jungkook checking his gun for a second before he tucks it in his belt under the jacket. Yoongi's own weapon pressing against his back uncomfortably.

Yoongi pulls the curtains open and then they're inside the main hall of the bottom floor.

It's packed with people, most sitting at the tables, watching the stripper on the stage perform, others are walking around or sitting at the counter, hands sliding up and down the waiters' legs.

Yoongi spots Namjoon behind the bar and quickly walks to him.

“They got upstairs two minutes ago.” Namjoon says, his voice on edge.

“Shit.” Yoongi hisses. “Just the three of them?”

“One at first, he booked Jimin, Sunmi told me. The moment she walked away for a goddamn second the other two went upstairs, too.”

“Okay.” This isn't okay. “Okay, let's just go.”

Yoongi goes to the stairs and starts climbing up. He really needs to tell Sunmi to have some fucking security on the upper floor, damn it.

“Jungkook, you stay outside, keep guard, if someone tries to make a run for it you shoot him in the knee.” Yoongi says, he gets his gun out. “Namjoon, with me, kill one of them, let's try to keep two alive, we need the information.”

“Got it.” Namjoon says, he pulls back the barrel of his gun.

“What room?”

“Six.”

As soon as he's on the second floor, Yoongi makes a beeline for the room, scanning the numbers painted over the doors. Once he finds the room 6, he clicks his fingers and Jungkook walks past him, positioning himself at the side of the door, back against the wall.

Yoongi glances at Namjoon, holds up his gun and nods. Namjoon takes a deep breath before he kicks the door open and raises his arm, aiming for someone with his gun.

A shot goes off and there's a surprised yell and the sound of a body hitting the ground. Namjoon steps inside and Yoongi follows him, he spots one man, maybe in his thirties. He tries to reach for his gun but Yoongi aims his own weapon at him.

“Don't fucking move.” he says, the man halts his movements, staring at him.

Then Yoongi looks away and sees Jimin.

He's on his knees, almost naked if not for the sheer fabric of his lingerie and the red silk robe hanging off one of his shoulders. And he has a rope around his neck, his hands curled around it, trying to pull it away from his throat. But the man standing behind him is keeping a strong hold on that rope, tightening it around the boy's neck even more.

Jimin's face is bruised, nothing bad, but he's clearly struggling to breathe, his skin flushed, lips pale and tears clinging to his lashes.

“One move.” The man says, giving the rope a hard tug, Jimin chokes. “One move and I actually kill the fucking slut.”

Jesus, why is it always so goddamn difficult?

“You're Jeon-woo.” Namjoon says, nodding at the man that has the rope. “I know who you are.”

“You don't know shit.”

“Let him go.” Yoongi says, Namjoon has his gun trained on the man but the bastard is hiding behind Jimin.

“What do you need to know from him, Min?” he asks.

“That wasn't a goddamn question.” Yoongi cocks his head to the side. “That was a demand. Let him go.”

Jeon-woo clenches his jaw, glancing at his partner, who is still frozen on the spot.

“I-” Jimin wheezes. “I duh-don't know anything.”

“You keep that fucking mouth shut.” the man says, he tugs on the rope again and then he starts standing up, pulling Jimin up with him.

Yoongi clenches his jaw when there's a sharp flash of pain twisting Jimin's features, the boy struggles to even keep his eyes open and his legs can barely keep him up.

“We're gonna walk away and you'll let us.” he says, keeping Jimin in front of him.

“I swear to God,” Yoongi glares at the man, feeling his patience running thin. “You don't let him go now, I'll break every single bone of your body.”

“You're walking into something that shouldn't concern you, Min.” Jeon-woo says.

This is weird. This isn't how he was thinking it would go. These men should be here for Gun-woo but instead- instead it looks like they're here for something entirely different or, at least, not related to Yoongi's problem.

“You shits are looking for Gun-woo?” Yoongi asks.

“Min.” the man cocks his head to the side. “Back the fuck off from this.”

They know who Gun-woo is. Yoongi saw it on the man's face, but it's not because of the cocaine. They didn't come here for the man himself, they came here for something of his.

Before he can ask another question, a door behind Jimin and Jeon-woo (a door that Yoongi didn't even notice was there, goddamnit)opens and another person walks in.

This must be one of the darlings, for he's too pretty and with too much skin exposed.

“Jimin, what the fuck was that-” he pales up instantly at the sight that greets him, skin going ashen.

Yoongi sees in the corner of his eyes the guy he has under aim trying once more to reach for his weapon and, without even thinking about it twice, Yoongi shoots.

The guy groans for a second as the bullet hits him right in the chest and falls back. Taking advantage of the sudden distraction, Jeon-woo lets go of the rope and shoves Jimin off, sending him on the floor. The boy curls up on his side, coughing and gasping for air.

Jeon-woo is fast in taking his gun from the back-pocket of his pants, he shoots one bullet in Namjoon's direction, who dashes to the right as soon as he sees him raising his weapon. The bullet hits the wall, then Jeon-woo turns around and grabs the other boy by the air, dragging him in front of him.

“I'll kill this one, I don't fucking need him.” Jeon-woo seethes, grabbing roughly locks of red hair and pressing the muzzle of the gun against the boy's temple.

Yoongi swallows hard, the darling looks like he might be either a fairy or a Seelie considering the unnatural golden glow of his skin.

“I know you, Min.” Jeon-woo says, grinning. “You don't like casualties, do ya?”

Yoongi sends a quick glance to Namjoon, who looks just as clueless as he does. This is so not how this was supposed to go.

Jimin is trying to get on his knees, eyes wide as he looks at the scene.

“Tae.” he whispers and Yoongi looks sharply in the darling's direction.

Oh.

“You let me walk away, Min, or I swear-”

“Fucking fine, then.” Yoongi lowers his gun, Namjoon stares at him like he just went crazy.

“Yoongi, what the-”

“Go.” Yoongi steps away from the entrance of the room. “I ain't stopping you.”

Jeon-woo looks at his way out, then back at Yoongi. “Step closer and off the door, both of you.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes but he does as he says, taking a few step forward and distancing himself from the door.

Jeon-woo then starts walking, his hand still grabbing the darling- Tae's hair as he still uses the boy as a shield. He twists around once he's close to the door, so that he doesn't lose visual on them, walking backward until he steps outside the room.

Jungkook is on him in a second, the grip of his gun colliding hard on the back of the man's head.

Jeon-woo's grip on Taehyung falters and he manages to free himself, running back inside.

Jungkook easily grabs Jeon-woo's wrist once the man tries to shoot at him, which is a stupid move considering how close they are.

He twists Jeon-woo's wrist, who cries out in pain and drops the weapon, then Jungkook uses the grip of his handgun once more to hit him on the nose, the sound of it breaking clear to everyone's ears.

“I should fucking break your hands for touching him.” Jungkook grits out before he grabs the man's neck and pushes him back inside the room and down on his knees, the muzzle of the gun now against the back of Jeon-woo's head.

“What the fuck.” Tae whispers, he's slowly lowering himself as his legs can't seem to keep him up, he sits on the floor. “What the actual fuck?”

“You.” Yoongi looks at Jeon-woo. “Why were you here?”

Jeon-woo's breath is coming out ragged and uneven, blood painting his nose and mouth red. “As if I'll tell you.”

“I think you will. I have reasons to believe I can be pretty fucking convincing.”

Jeon-woo nods. “Good luck with that.” He clenches his jaw hard and then there's the sound of something breaking.

Yoongi frowns, looking at the steel expression on Jeon-woo's face, then he coughs and his body starts shaking.

“Fuck, no!” Namjoon yells, running to Jeon-woo.

He kneels in front of him and tries to open Jeon-woo's mouth but the man's jaw is clenched unnaturally, there's fucking foam slipping past his sealed lips and Yoongi already knows it's too late.

“A goddamn capsule.” he whispers and, really, he almost feels like laughing. Who the hell still uses capsules?

Namjoon hisses on a curse and lets go of Jeon-woo's, his body is already convulsing. Jungkook rolls his eyes and shoves him on the floor, a few gurgling sounds leaving Jeon-woo before he stills completely.

“What-” Tae swallows. “What just happened?”

“He poisoned himself.” Jungkook replies, then he walks over the dead body and crouches in front of the red-haired. “You okay?”

Tae blinks. “Do I look like I'm fucking okay?!”

“Why are you mad at me?!”

“Fuck you!”

“Taehyung, for God's sake!”

“You disappear on me for two fucking weeks and when you come back you do it with a gun?!”

“Hey.” Yoongi calls them, they both turn to him. “Keep the lovers quarrel out of here. Jungkook, get him home, tell Sunmi I said so.”

Shit, Sunmi. Sunmi won't be happy.

Jungkook sighs and stands up, offering his hand to Taehyung but the fairy (Seelie? Whatever he is) simply swats it away with a glare and gets up on his own, although on weak legs.

Taehyung starts walking back to the door from which he came in, he seems to want to stop in front of Jimin but the blond shakes his head and sends him a look. Taehyung sighs and starts walking again, Jungkook behind him.

“Namjoon, go downstairs, tell Sunmi about what happened, tell her they're going home.” Yoongi says, he starts taking his jacket off. “Also, that Tae and Jimin won't be coming back here for a while, too dangerous.”

“What about the bodies?”

Yoongi looks at Jeon-woo, the other two men's corpses lying just behind him. “Send someone to clean up. Minjun.”

“Got it. I'll meet you downstairs.”

Yoongi nods and Namjoon quickly makes his way out of the room.

Jimin is staring at Jeon-woo's body, eyes wide and his whole frame shaking. Yoongi frees his last arm of the jacket and walks to him.

Kneeling in front of Jimin, Yoongi drapes the jacket over his shoulders, Jimin blinks and then he looks at him.

“I'm sorry.” Yoongi says and, really, he means it. “I didn't think this was going to happen.”

“I don't know anything.” Jimin whispers again, his voice breaking. “I really- I don't know anything!”

“I know you don't.”

“They kept- kept asking me buh-'bout numbers, but I don't know! I swear!”

“Hey.” Yoongi grips Jimin's chin and makes sure that the boy's eyes are on him and not on the dead body. “I know. Okay? I know. But right now I have to get you out of here so I need you to stand up and walk. Can you do that?”

Jimin looks at him with bloodshot eyes for a few seconds before he slowly nods.

“Good. Come on, let's go.” Yoongi grabs Jimin's arm and helps him stand up, then he starts closing the buttons of his jacket so that Jimin is at least somewhat covered.

They walk around Jeon-woo's body and then they head for the stairs. Yoongi doesn't rush the succubus as they climb down, he's surprised Jimin can even take one step at a time.

Once they're downstairs, Sunmi is already walking to them with something dangerous flashing in her eyes.

“What the fuck happened up there?” she hisses as soon as she's standing in front of them.

“Noona, not now.”

“Jesus- what happened to him?!”

“Noona.” Yoongi repeats, this time firmer. “Not now.”

Sunmi looks at Jimin, her features softening at the sight of her darling. “Fine. Just take him home, we'll talk tomorrow.”

“Can't wait.” Yoongi mutters before he tugs on Jimin's arm and they start moving again. He now only realizes that Jimin's feet are bare, but they don't have time to go back up and get him some shoes, Yoongi doesn't know if those men were truly alone or if someone else is on their way.

He guides Jimin through the bodies crowding in front of the bar and then they're in the corridor, the music fading out in the distance.

Outside it's colder than he remembered, he feels Jimin shiver but it could be more because of the shock rather than the temperature.

Namjoon is waiting for them by Yoongi's car.

“Jungkook and the other kid, what's his name?”

“Taehyung.” Yoongi replies.

“Right. They're in my car, I'll drive them.” Namjoon hands Yoongi the keys of the vehicle. “What even is that kid? Pixie?”

“Don't know, could be.”

“Seelie.” Jimin whispers, his eyes trained on the asphalt beneath his feet.

“Whatever.” Yoongi sniffs. “I'm taking him home.”

“No.” Namjoon shakes his head. “No, take him at the penthouse. We don't know if these men know where Jimin lives, it's too dangerous. Keep him in your place for tonight, then once I dropped Kook and the Seelie I'll go check on Jimin's place and see if it's all normal.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, his eyes rolling so far back that he swears he can see his fucking brain at some point.

“Fine, okay. How did you know that Jeon-woo?”

“He's part of the Geom-eun Kkoli, new gang but they're large. I recognized the tattoos with the lights on. Jeon-woo's famous, human traffic.”

Great. Yoongi is looking for his coke, meanwhile, he's got a gang of human traffickers searching for the same man but for an entirely different reason.

Just great.

Jimin's body shakes again and, this time, Yoongi knows it's because of the cold.

“Text me once you dropped them off.” Yoongi says, Namjoon nods and walks away, heading to where he must have parked his own car.

Yoongi gently pulls Jimin to his car, he unlocks it and then opens the door for the passenger seat. Jimin slides inside quickly and Yoongi closes the door, walking around the car and he gets behind the wheel as fast as he can. They really need to get away soon.

Yoongi starts the car and then he pulls away from the curb, he sends Jimin a quick look.

“Seatbelt.”

Jimin blinks, he slowly turns to him. “Uh?”

“Put your seatbelt on.”

Yoongi gets on the road, ignoring his own seatbelt completely, but he hears Jimin doing as he's told anyway.

They drive at a steady pace, Yoongi's eyes darting multiple times to the rearview mirror to make sure that no one is following them. In the car immediately behind him there's a couple, a man and a woman, Yoongi can kind of make out the silhouette of a child as well, sitting behind.

Jimin stays quiet. He raises his legs, putting his feet on the seat and hugging his knees close to his chest, making himself as small as possible.

Shit, he looks terrified out of his mind.

Yoongi stops at a red light, leaning back against the seat and inhaling deeply. This has been a long night and it's not even two in the morning.

He sends Jimin another glance but his eyes focus on the boy's neck. The rope left angry red marks, skin bruised in a way that has Yoongi's stomach churn. It's scratched as well, Jeon-woo must have pulled tight and hard enough to actually breach the skin, there's dried blood on his throat.

Before he really thinks about it, Yoongi lifts his hand up and grazes the bruises with his knuckles, Jimin turns his head around to look at him, a confused frown on his face.

Yoongi's not an asshole. He might not really care about Jimin, he doesn't know him and, frankly, he's not sure he wants to. But this isn't right.

“I'm sorry.” Yoongi says, again. “I'm really sorry.”

The light turns green and Yoongi focuses on the street again, his hands back on the steering wheel.

Jimin sighs and leans his head against the car window.

“'s not your fault.” he replies quietly, then he closes his eyes.

Yoongi has a feeling that, perhaps, this is his fault.