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the hand that feeds

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you're keeping in step
in the line
got your chin held high and you feel just fine
because you do
what you're told
but inside your heart it is black and it's hollow and it's cold

just how deep do you believe?
will you bite the hand that feeds?
will you chew until it bleeds?
can you get up off your knees?
are you brave enough to see?
do you want to change it?

what if this whole crusade's
a charade
and behind it all there's a price to be paid
for the blood
on which we dine
justified in the name of the holy and the divine


-“The Hand That Feeds” by Nine Inch Nails



The man pushed Jimin up against the wall, hiking Jimin’s legs up around his waist and plunging his tongue deep in his mouth. Jimin loved it. He was moaning like a bitch in heat, rubbing his hard, still clothed cock into the man's stomach. “I want you to fuck me,” Jimin whined, biting at the man's lower lip with a smirk tugging at his own. His mocha eyes were bright with arousal, framed by falling tendrils of sweaty, honey-blonde hair that fell off his brow. The moonlight pouring in from the window washed both of them pale, and Jimin looked positively ethereal.

“Oh yeah?” The man responded, breathing heavy. “How do you want it?” He asked, voice low and hot, his breath moist against Jimin’s face.

“Hard,” Jimin moaned, arching his back against the wall and simultaneously pushing his dick down against the man's own hard member. “I want you to fuck me hard, I want to feel it.”

The man moaned in response, biting at Jimin’s jaw and moving down his neck. “ Jesus , fuck, kid. I think I'll just fuck you into the wall here, huh? How would you like that, baby?”

Jimin winced slightly, but the man didn’t notice. He shook it off and grinned, all sharp teeth and promise. “Mmm, yeah, do it. Do it, come on, I need it-”

Jimin was cut off by bright lights cutting through the blinds, the sound of an engine coming up the drive.

Jimin gasped, wiggling out of the man's grasp and pushing him away, “Oh, no. Oh no, oh no, oh no .” He ran to the blinds and peered out, cursing. He ran back to the man, grabbing at his arm. “You need to hide; you need to hide right now .” He pulled the man toward the hallway.

“What?” The man asked, stumbling after Jimin, still caught in a haze of arousal. “What? What's happening?”

“My boyfriend ,” Jimin hissed, pulling the man into a room off the side of the hall. “He's home, he shouldn't be, but he is, and you need to hide. Now .”

“Your boyfriend?” The man asked dumbly, blindly following Jimin into the room.

Yes . And he's very possessive. And very...not nice when he's angry.”

They both froze as a door swung open, creaking, a couple of rooms over.

“Please,” Jimin begged, whispering. “Please, just, stay here and I promise I'll come get you when I get him to leave, or settle down in bed, or something.”

The man nodded, purblind, as Jimin shoved him in the closet and shut the door.

“Thank you,” Jimin said, eternally grateful. At the same time a voice calling, “Jimin?” questioningly rang out from down the hall.

“Coming!” Jimin called as he hurried from the room, smoothing his hair back and straightening his clothes. His lips were red and kiss-bitten, but he hoped Yoongi wouldn't notice.

Jimin made his way across the hall, heart hammering as he tried to calm his breathing. He rounded the corner into the large, ornate kitchen, plastering a smile on his face. “Hey, baby,” he cooed, sidling up next to Yoongi as he set down his bags. He helped Yoongi take off his coat, hanging it up in the small side closet for him.

“Hello,” Yoongi’s voice lilted, warbled, his Daegu accent hugging the word like it tended to do when he was tired. He ran his hand across Jimin’s shoulders as he backed out of the closet.  Jimin raised his head up for a kiss, and Yoongi leaned down to meet him.

“What are you doing home so early?” Jimin asked, voice barely wavering. “I thought you were going to be busy all night.” Yoongi looked so tired, the lines around his eyes more pronounced, his normally bright, sharp brown eyes dull and lifeless..

Yoongi eyed him carefully. “I thought so, too.” he agreed. He walked over to the refrigerator, opening it up and pulling one of many Tupperware containers out. He popped the lid off and said, “But I couldn’t find anything good for us, so I decided to just come home,” He began transferring the contents of the container onto an oven-safe plate.

“Boring night, huh?” Jimin retorted, smiling easily. He walked over to the stove and set it to start preheating for Yoongi’s meal.

Yoongi looked around at him with a slightly bemused look. “Yeah. Sure.”

Jimin pursed his lips. “I wish you would have called. I would have had this ready to go for you. You're probably starving.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed in the slightest degree, but Jimin noticed and tried to hide his wince. “It’s not so bad. I had some things to snack on while I was out.” He slid the plate into the oven and set the timer. He circled around the island to where Jimin was standing, looking him in the eye. He raised his hand, gently gripping Jimin’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, the other fingers curling along his cheek. “Why are you so nervous?” Jimin opened his mouth to respond, but Yoongi cut him off. “Do not bother denying it, I can smell it on you.” Jimin suppressed a shiver, eyes involuntarily flicking toward the hallway he had come from. He knew the man could hear everything they were saying from that closet. It’s what he was counting on.

Yoongi followed his eyes, shoulders pulling back slightly. He stepped away from Jimin with a small huff, straightening his jacket before walking swiftly down the hallway. Jimin followed after quickly, his heart stuck in his throat. “Yoongi, I-”

Yoongi cut him off by raising a hand up by his shoulder, his head tilting in a line of suppressed anger. He turned off into the room that Yoongi had just taken the man into. He moved to stand in the center of the room, shoulders rigid. Jimin stopped in the doorway behind him. “Yoongi, please, come back to the kitchen with me. I don't know what you're thinking, but-”

“Sh,” Yoongi bit out sharply. He stood there, breathing heavy, seething. “Do not. Patronize. Me.” Yoongi looked around the room, eyes cold and calculating. His shoulders suddenly relaxed and he rolled his neck before he walked calmly over to the closet door, flinging it open.

The man was there, cowered in the corner, face still sweaty and flushed and his cock still hard in his jeans. Yoongi stared at the man and the man stared back. He then made the worst decision he could have made in that situation. He quirked his lips at Yoongi and said, “Uh, hey.”

Yoongi snapped. He grabbed the man by the hair and yanked him out of the closet, immensely satisfied by his yelp and the way his neck snapped back as he did so.

“Fuck, man, hey!” The man spluttered, before making the second worst decision he could have made. “Hey, hey , there's no reason to be violent, bud. Just, just kick me out our something, I promise I'll leave .”

Yoongi flung him into the wall, bringing the forearm of his free hand up to push it into the man's throat, cutting off part of his air supply. Jimin covered his face with his hands, crumpling against the door frame. “Yoongi, please, just let him go. I'm sorry, please let him go.” The man was gasping, choking, and Yoongi was practically growling in his face, completely ignoring Jimin.

“You think you can come into my house and sleep with my partner ?” Yoongi’s accent thickened with his anger, and the man winced, flinching away from him. Yoongi tightened his grip on the man's hair and he yelped, making himself choke as Yoongi pushed harder against his windpipe. “How dare you, how-”

“Yoongi, he didn't know .” Jimin stressed hysterically, coming into the room with tears rolling down his cheeks. He walked toward Yoongi’s side, but kept his distance. “As far as he knew I was a single guy with a fancy house. I picked him up in a club! For God's sake, Yoongi, stop it .”

Across the house, the timer on the oven started beeping. No one paid any mind to it.

Yoongi pulled the man away from the wall and toward the middle of the room, keeping his hand in his hair but moving the other away from his throat. He twisted his wrist, forcing the man's head back and bringing him to his knees. Now that he was out of the closet, and Yoongi wasn't in his way, the man could see the room for what it was. The floor was covered with a thick plastic, obscuring the dark carpet beneath. All of the furniture was covered with a thinner, clearer plastic as well. A trickle of cold fear spread from the man's heart out to his fingers and toes.

He looked wildly over to Jimin, and his fear flared even more. Jimin was no longer crying, although his cheeks were still wet. There was a terrifying glint in his eyes, making the brown of them almost black. An ugly smile twisted the corners of his mouth. He walked over to the door and shut it with a solid, resounding click .

“Ready, calico?” Yoongi asked calmly.

“Ready.” Jimin responded coolly, reaching down to grab the man by the throat.

The man began to scream.


Much later into the evening, to the point where it could very nearly be considered early morning, Yoongi and Jimin entered the kitchen. The blood had been washed from their hands and fresh clothes exchanged for their dirtied ones. The man was wrapped in a tarp in the basement, ready to be butchered and stored away. Jimin hoisted himself onto the counter of the center island, next to the deep, stainless steel farmhouse sink.

Yoongi turned the oven off and used a hot pad to pull his forgotten meal out of the oven. He scraped the burnt remains into the trash, a scowl marring his face. “I hate to waste a good meal,” he said, almost sadly.

Jimin raised an eyebrow at him from his perch on the counter. “You knew what we were doing tonight. You didn't have to actually put anything in the oven. The beeps and whatnot would have been enough, if he could even hear them.”

Yoongi shrugged, taking the plate over to the sink beside Jimin to rinse before stowing it in the dishwasher. “Getting into the character, I suppose.” He mused.

Jimin snorted, opening his arms and inviting Yoongi over. Yoongi positioned himself between Jimin’s legs, bracing his hands on the counter beside Jimin’s thighs. Jimin looped his arms lightly behind Yoongi’s neck. “You know,” he said, wrapping his legs around Yoongi’s hips and pulling him closer, “I could...feed you something else.” Jimin licked his lips obscenely, fighting back a dopey smile.

“That was terrible.” Yoongi groaned, leaning in to take Jimin’s mouth with his own.

Jimin obliged for a minute before pulling away, laughing lightly. “Bite me.”

“You shouldn’t be allowed to make jokes.” Yoongi pushed Jimin back far enough get good access at his throat. He took the delicate skin between his teeth, biting hard enough to sting, but not enough to mark much beyond a faint red. Jimin groaned, bucking against Yoongi’s hips, cock already half hard. “You're insatiable ,” Yoongi admonished lightly.

“Come on,” Jimin whined as Yoongi licked and sucked at his throat. “You know how horny a bit of bloodshed gets me.” Jimin grasped Yoongi’s face with his hands, cradling him into his neck. He tilted his head down to whisper into Yoongi’s ear. “Next time, I want you to fuck me while we’re still covered in their blood.” Yoongi’s breath hitched as he gasped, taken by surprise, mouth going lax against Jimin’s throat. “I want to feel the slick slide of it against my skin when you touch me, when I touch you. I want to suck it from your fingers as you fuck me, lick it from your skin. Then, I want you to cum in my mouth, the taste of you combined with the metallic tang of our prey’s blood.”

Jimin was pushing every single one of Yoongi’s buttons, and he damn well knew it. Yoongi groaned, which sounded very nearly like a growl, and pulled back from Jimin’s neck. “Fuck,” he gasped fervently, pulling Jimin closer by the shirt collar to get at his mouth.

Their mouths collided, teeth clacking together and tongues sparring almost immediately. Yoongi was vicious when he was worked up. Unforgiving and brutal. Jimin loved it, loved when Yoongi got that way. He loved it when Yoongi was rough, when he pinned Jimin down and made him beg. He loved when Yoongi left bruises, scratches, marks that he could feel the next day. He craved it, craved anything that Yoongi could give to him.

Yoongi bit at Jimin’s lips, hard enough to draw blood. The taste of it bloomed across his tongue, and Jimin mewled, thrusting his hips into Yoongi’s, grinding their cocks together. Yoongi pulled away to take a breath, and Jimin whined. “Yoongi, Yoongi please. I need it, I need you. Please, Daddy, please…” The title fell carelessly from his lips, desperation making Jimin slip into his little boy persona.

“Shh,” Yoongi cooed, bringing one hand up to cup Jimin’s cheek. He took his thumb and swiped it across Jimin’s lip, wiping the blood away. Jimin took Yoongi’s thumb into his mouth, reveling in the way Yoongi’s pupils blew up, black consuming the brown, as the metallic tang spread across his tongue. “I will take care of you. Always.”

The way Yoongi looked at him made heat explode across Jimin’s face and chest, making him feel uncomfortable but so warm . He knew Yoongi was telling the truth. He would take care of Jimin, now and always. Jimin pulled Yoongi back into a kiss, projecting his gratefulness into it. Yoongi reached down and gripped the outside of Jimin’s thighs, hoisting him up. Jimin instinctively tightened his legs around Yoongi’s hips to keep from falling, even though Yoongi was strong enough to carry him without the support.

Yoongi carried him swiftly down the hallway to their bedroom. Jimin broke their kiss to reach down, grasping feverishly at his own shirt to pull it over his head. He tossed it behind Yoongi’s as they entered the threshold to their room.

An hour or so later, Yoongi had Jimin splayed out across their bed, wrists and ankles strapped into restraints that hooked under the four corners of the mattress. Bite marks trailed across his shoulders, down his chest, leading down to the swell of his thighs. Most of them were red rimmed and puffy, but there were a few that were starting to bloom in hues of dark blues and purples where Yoongi got a little overzealous. There was one in the middle of Jimin’s inner thigh that had pinpricks of crimson welling from Yoongi’s canines. It didn’t concern either of them.

Yoongi loved to bite. He'd take huge chunks of Jimin's flesh between his teeth, testing his jaw around it, biting down with increasing pressure until Jimin was writhing and screaming. He loved Jimin's thighs, his ass cheeks, especially now that Jimin had more weight on his bones. He made purple and blue flowers bloom across Jimin's skin that lasted for ages, much longer than normal love bites. Yoongi would bite him like he wanted to eat him and maybe that should scare Jimin, given their lifestyle, but it just made Jimin feel alive, made  him feel wanted and treasured. And whenever he was done marking up Jimin's body, he'd swallow Jimin's cock down or fuck him senseless and make him cum so hard he’d nearly black out, digging his fingers into the flowers on Jimin's thighs

Jimin was achingly hard, erection straining up and brushing against his stomach. Yoongi had teased him into a writhing, desperate mess. The plains of his smooth, tan skin were covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps in between bitten-out moans. He pulled at the restraints around his wrists, trying to get leverage to buck up toward Yoongi, who was sitting across Jimin’s thighs but was no longer touching him. “What do you want, my calico? Tell me.” Jimin shuddered at the term of endearment.

“You,” Jimin gasped and Yoongi chuckled in amusement.

“You must be more specific than that, dear calico.” Yoongi chided, a wicked smile curving into his cheeks. “Tell me.” He punctuated the demand with a vicious pinch under Jimin’s ribs.

Jimin whined, high pitched and long, arching into Yoongi’s touch. "I want.... hnnngh, I want you in me. I just want you to fuck me, please. Please, Yoongi, please ."

"Please what?" Yoongi was being much harder to please than normal, and he fucking knew it. Jimin could practically feel the older man's smug smirk past the haze of arousal and desperation thrumming around him.

The denial, the idea that he wasn't doing enough to please, brought fresh tears to Jimin's eyes and a sob high in his throat. He choked on it, wrists twisting in his restraints. "Please, Daddy." Jimin felt Yoongi tremble against his thighs. "Daddy, Daddy, please fuck me. I've been such a good boy, haven’t I?" Jimin’s voice edged off desperate and more to the line of panicked, and it made Yoongi frown.

“You’ve been so good,” Yoongi lamented. He leaned down, claiming Jimin's lips in a sweet kiss. "Calm down, baby boy." Jimin took a deep breath, trying to obey him. Yoongi brushed his lips along Jimin's temple. "How are you doing, sweetheart? Do you need me to slow down?"

Jimin took another deep breath, trying to dull the panic that had built in his chest. “I’m okay, just...maybe tone it back s-some. But don't... don't stop. Please don’t stop, Daddy."

Yoongi cooed, a calming, protective noise, and reached up to grasp at Jimin's wrists.   He deftly undid the buckles that kept Jimin's wrists bound. Jimin sighed as his wrists were freed, Yoongi pulling them down to his chest. Yoongi rubbed at his wrists, kneading the skin and muscle there to encourage blood flow. "You're so good, baby. You're being so good for me. My calico, my baby boy. You make me so proud."

Jimin squirmed under the praise, heat returning to his face. He rocked his hips up, his neglected cock brushing against Yoongi's own still clothed erection. Yoongi chuckled, tilting his hips to push Jimin's back into the bed. Jimin let out a strangled moan. "Thank you, Daddy."

“Anything for my baby,” Yoongi murmured. He brought Jimin’s hands to press flat against his own stomach, skin separated by the cloth of his shirt. “I’ve been teasing for you for so long, huh? I’ve been mean to my baby. Why don’t you show me how good you are and strip Daddy down so he can fuck you like you want, hm?”

The words sent pure, molten heat straight through Jimin’s stomach and to his already-sensitive cock. More than that, they loosened the fist of anxiety that had made him panic before. He simpered and moved his hands to dance along the hem of Yoongi’s shirt. Jimin pulled at the restraints still wrapped around his ankles, using the leverage to pull himself up. He ran his fingers under the hem of Yoongi’s shirt, pushing it up slightly. Yoongi leaned down so that Jimin could pull the garment all the way off without straining too much. He kissed at Yoongi’s neck, knowing that he would be punished if he tried to bite. His canines itched but he kept the urge in check. His fingers wandered down to Yoongi’s waistband, thumbs flicking the button open and sliding the zipper down. Yoongi lifted himself onto his knees so that Jimin could push his jeans and boxer-briefs down. Finally, through some artful finagling, Yoongi’s clothes ended up across the floor.

“Good boy,” Yoongi praised, running his fingers through Jimin’s hair, fisting it lightly to pull him into a kiss. He retrieved a bottle of lube, seemingly out of nowhere, and pulled away from his boy’s lips. “Beg me real pretty, baby.”

Jimin whimpered sweetly, arching against Yoongi. “Please, Daddy, please fuck me. I love your fingers so much, Daddy, I just want them in me.”

Yoongi took his lips again and Jimin moaned against them in relief as slick fingers finally touched his hole. He pulled away from Yoongi’s mouth, crying out as a finger slid inside of him. “Oh, Daddy . Oh, Daddy, Daddy, please .”

“Shh,” Yoongi soothed, pumping his finger in and out of his boy’s tight body before adding another. “I’ve got you, baby boy.” He stretched Jimin with his fingers, all while rutting into the back of his boy’s thigh. He pressed wet kisses to Jimin’s jaw and crooked his fingers up in a practiced motion, hitting Jimin’s sweet spot head on. Jimin practically howled, thrusting his hips down onto Yoongi’s hand. He tried to wrap his legs around Yoongi’s waist but he was held back the restraints still wrapped around his ankles.

“Oh God, Yoongi. Oh, Daddy, please, I need you to fuck me now .” The pleasure was mounting, and the friction of Yoongi’s fingers felt amazing , but it wasn’t enough. “Please, please .”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you,” Yoongi pulled away, taking his fingers out of Jimin’s now pliant body to slick his own cock up.

Jimin whined in protest, but bit it back when he felt the blunt head of Yoongi’s cock against his entrance. Yoongi’s hands traveled down underneath Jimin’s thighs, lifting them up as much as the restraints would allow. He slowly sank into his boy’s body, drawing a long moan out of Jimin’s chest. Once he was sure Jimin was well adjusted, he pulled out slightly and snapped his hips back, skin slapping Jimin’s in an obscene-sounding way. Punched-out half moans spilled from Jimin’s mouth and he brought his hands up to Yoongi’s hips, fingers digging into his flesh.

There was still something missing, but Jimin couldn’t figure out what it was until Yoongi leaned back, almost pulling all of the way out. He stopped thrusting and Jimin started to protest but he heard the tell-tale thwip of the leather on his restraints sliding through their own buckles. All of a sudden, his legs were free. Jimin was shell shocked for a mere moment before Yoongi started pounding into him again, setting up a brutal rhythm. Yoongi fell forward, elbows propping himself up on either side of Jimin’s head. “Move, calico,” Yoongi encouraged, hot breath fanning across Jimin’s face. “Do whatever you want. You have my permission.”

It took a minute to sink in, but once it did Jimin lifted his hips up, raising his legs up high to clench around Yoongi’s waist. The change in angle allowed Yoongi to rock deeper into him, hitting Jimin’s prostate on almost every upthrust. He threw his arms around Yoongi’s neck, pulling him closer so he could mouth at the smooth skin of his Daddy’s throat. His teeth were still itchy, like they had been before, and he whined helplessly. “Daddy, can I? Can I, please?” His words were shaky under the force of Yoongi’s brutal rhythm.

“Can you what?” Yoongi grunted, voice susceptible to the same shake as Jimin’s.

Jimin nipped at Yoongi’s neck in reply, slipping too far into his own head to form words.

He felt more than heard Yoongi's chuckle, huffed against his temple. "You want to bite me? Do it, baby boy. I want you to."

Jimin didn't need any further guidance. He opened his mouth and latched his teeth onto the meat Yoongi's shoulder, right at the juncture to his neck. He didn't have the confidence to bite as hard as Yoongi would have, but the pressure and yield of the skin beneath his teeth and Yoongi's corresponding groan more than soothed his itch. He pulled back to get some much needed air into his lungs before he moved slightly down Yoongi's shoulder, setting his teeth into a new spot.

Yoongi moaned again, his movements becoming more erratic as they both tumbled toward the edge. Jimin fit one hand between their bodies to grasp at his own cock, but he started to cum before he could reach. He settled for rocking into his own palm, pulling off of Yoongi's shoulder to cry out, "Oh, Daddy, god, fuck ," and ride out the rhythm.

Yoongi had felt his little boy shoot between them, felt him clench helplessly around his cock, and he couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "Yeah, baby, fuck, that's so good ."

Jimin went loose, pliant beneath him, but he kept his arms hooked around Yoongi neck even as his legs fell off his hips. "Yeah," he agreed. "Yes, Daddy, use me ." Yoongi's breath hitched at his words. "Fuck me, Daddy, fuck my hole and fill me with your cum." His voice was breathless, but the heat of it set Yoongi ablaze. Yoongi growled, nipping at Jimin's earlobe. His thrusts were sending aftershocks of pleasure through Jimin’s body and he whimpered pathetically at the over stimulation. The small, broken noises finally sent Yoongi careening over the edge, rocking into Jimin’s one final time as he emptied himself inside his little boy.

They collapsed together, Yoongi shifting them to the side slightly so he wouldn’t crush his boy under his weight. Jimin curled instinctively into Yoongi’s chest, wincing as Yoongi’s cock slipped out of him and a little cum trickled out, dripping down his balls. Yoongi reached for the covers, knowing his little boy needed warmth to keep from slipping onto the wrong side of a subdrop. Jimin pawed mindlessly at Yoongi’s chest, humming in content as the blankets surrounded him.

After a moment, Yoongi felt Jimin mumbling something against his skin. “What’s that, baby boy?” He tilted his head closer to Jimin’s to hear him better.

“‘M sorry ,” Jimin’s voice was slurred with excess hormones and emotion, lethargy starting to creep in.

“For what, dear calico?” Yoongi was honestly confused; his boy had been nearly perfect.

“I came withou’ your p’rmiss’n.” Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle; his boy sounded so far gone, like he was more than half asleep, but he was still concerned about pleasing his Daddy.

“That’s okay, baby. We didn’t make that a rule this time.” He pressed a kiss to Jimin’s temple. “You were being so good; I wouldn’t have cared even if it was a rule.” He felt Jimin’s sleepy smile pressed into his neck.

He nudged Jimin gently with his shoulder to keep him from completely falling asleep. “Hey, baby boy, I need you with me for another minute.”

Jimin whined something that sounded a lot like no, Daddy, but it was muffled against Yoongi’s neck.

“It’s routine, baby, I have to make sure you’re okay,”

“‘M fine ,” Jimin turned his face away from Yoongi’s neck so the words came out clearer.

Yoongi tsked lightly. “You know the drill. What’s your name?”

Jimin groaned. “Park Jimin.” He muttered reluctantly.

“What’s my name?”

“Min Yoongi,” Jimin sighed.

“Where are you?”

“Your house.”

Our house. How are you feeling?”

“Sore. Tired. But okay. ‘M okay.” Jimin turned his face back toward Yoongi’s neck, lips pressed sloppily against the skin of his throat. “You took care of me.”

“Good boy. I always do.” Yoongi pressed a kiss to Jimin’s forehead, pushing sweaty locks of hair out of the way and smiling fondly. “You want to clean up now or take a nap first?”

“Nap first. Please?”

Yoongi brought one hand up to twine his fingers with Jimin’s. “Of course, baby. Go to sleep.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth Jimin was out like a light. Yoongi turned onto his side gently, sliding Jimin off of him and letting him burrow into the pillows. Jimin whimpered lightly at the loss of body heat, but Yoongi pulled up the covers from the bottom of the bed and tucked them around his little boy. It was enough to settle him.

Yoongi got up and went to the closet to pull on dark jeans, a t-shirt, and a black hoodie. There was something like cold trying to dig under his skin, and he suppressed a shiver as he pulled the hoodie closer around himself. He left, turning the light to the bedroom off and shrouding it, and Jimin, in darkness. He pulled the door to and set off down the hallway.

The rest of the house was dark, since they had turned the lights off on their way to the bedroom. Or Yoongi had, at least. Jimin was too busy trying to fuck him with their clothes still on.

Yoongi was in the basement within moments. He made his way down the stairs, pulling the cord for the overhead light on his way. The prey was wrapped in a black tarp, set off just to the side of the stairs. Yoongi approached it, lip curled in disgust. He squatted beside it, peering at it as if he could see right through the plastic. Truth be told, he remembered exactly what the prey looked like beneath. Every line he had carved into the body, every wound he had made.

“Pitiful,” he muttered. He tucked one arm under the prey’s knees, one under the shoulders, so he could heft it back up. He grunted softly at the dead weight, but managed to get upright fairly easily. He tossed the body over his left shoulder and carried it over to a long table in the back of the basement, setting the prey onto it. There was shelving lining the wall behind the table, stocked with knives, hatchets, a bone saw, the tools required to keep them sharp, as well as cheesecloth, towels, and a setup to vacuum seal the meat to freeze.

Yoongi heaved a sigh, pushing the sleeves of his hoodie up. He unwrapped the tarp, exposing the man’s body once again. He rolled his neck to loosen some tension as he circled around to the shelves, smiling as the action pulled at the bite marks Jimin left on him. His calico had been getting a little more feisty lately, which led to tonight’s hunt. From his shelves of tools, he grabbed a six inch cutting knife and the bone saw.

Jimin had never been present for this part, even after being together for so long. Yoongi didn’t blame him; butchering was grisly and grueling and nowhere near as fun as the hunt, the kill. But Yoongi enjoyed the butchering process, truly. It was methodical, calming. He enjoyed slicing away each cut, planning what meals to make with each fresh steak. Tomorrow, he mused as he slid the hunting knife easily down the prey’s torso, from neck to pelvis, expertly cutting it open and exposing the insides, blood oozing slowly since there wasn’t a beating heart to keep it pumping anymore. Tomorrow he should make cassoulet for Jimin. His calico had been craving shoulder lately.

He also makes a mental to save the delicate, fleshy meat of the prey’s cheeks. Jimin always loved them boiled, lightly salted, with soy sauce. Or a touch of powdered sugar, to sweeten the meat. He could make that for him for breakfast, and maybe make himself some boiled lung, with onion and paprika.

He takes his time, pulling out and separating each organ and organizing them; the lungs, heart, and liver go at the end of the table to be saved, the stomach and intestines and other waste into a garbage bag to be disposed off. He thought, minutely, about saving the intestines, cleaning them out and using them for sausage casings, but elected against it. It was more effort than he particularly wanted to give in that moment. Perhaps next time.

He then goes through the grueling process of quartering the body, first halving it down the spine before separating each limb. He decapitates the head from the torso, gently carving out the meat of it’s cheeks before placing it with the other waste.

He methodically takes cuts from each arm, leg, from the shoulders and the back and the loins. It the better part of two hours, and Yoongi is covered in blood from his fingertips up to his elbow. His hoodie is ruined, but he expected it to be. He places the last cut with the rest on the table, letting out a slow steady breath as he appraises his handiwork. The prey is completely gutted, nothing more than red stained bones and gristle. He should save some of the bones, he mused to himself, since he’s running a little low on stock for stews and soups. He rinses his hands and arms off in the small sink in the corner, before moving back to his haul to begin the arduous process of wrapping each cut in cheesecloth, vacuum sealing them into plastic bags, and labeling them. He’d much rather return to sleep with his precious house cat, but he can’t risk the meat getting too warm.

Finally, finally he finishes and decides to leave the rest of the clean up for the next day after stowing all the cuts into his freezers. He takes several bags with him back upstairs; the cheeks for Jimin, the slices of lung for his own breakfast, and all the cuts he’d need to make the cassoulet . He places them in the fridge in the kitchen before heading to the bathroom to strip out of his stained clothes and shower.

Perhaps he was anxious to get back to bed, to see his baby boy again. Maybe the chill he had been trying to fight since he left their bedroom was finally seeping into his bones. Either way, showered quickly, although still making sure to get all the blood off, and flipped the water off. He dried himself down and made his way to their bedroom.

He stood at the edge of their bed, admiring his baby boy, his dear calico. Jimin had curled into a ball on his side while Yoongi had been gone, his hands fisted in the inside of the sheets and forcing them to cover his face. Yoongi lifted the edge of the sheets gently, easing his way in while trying not to wake his boy.

He pried the covers out of Jimin’s hands and used them to cover himself. He pulled Jimin close to him, wrapping him up in his arms and burying his face in his hair. He smelled like home.

Jimin shivered, almost violently, and whined. "Daddy," Jimin curled in on himself, burrowing into Yoongi's chest. "Your hands are cold.” He muttered, voice thick with sleep. It was clear he wasn’t fully awake.

“I’m sorry, calico.” He murmured, pressing a kiss into Jimin’s hair.

“Whatever,” Jimin sighed, tucking his nose against Yoongi's collarbone, and promptly falling back asleep.

Yoongi closed his eyes, the buzzing in the back of his head finally quiet. He followed Jimin into the darkness, sleep cloying his senses like ink spilled across a page.