Min Yoongi prided himself on being a calm, collected leader. For the most part, it worked out well. His emotionless exterior was rarely penetrable. He kept a stone-cold expression on his face even in the midst of the most pressing of crises. No one dared to ever question his authority. And if they were stupid enough to, they pretty much vanished off the face of the earth.
Yoongi was running the largest gang in Seoul, Korea. The Bangtan Boys was not only the largest gang in the area, but it was also the most powerful. The gang was made-up of easily thousands of men and women alike, as well as a few close companions that he kept within an arm’s reach.
Kim Taehyung and Jung Hoseok were his lead assassins. When he wanted someone eliminated, he turned to them. Kim Seokjin dealt with the dealers they were in partnership with. He mainly handled anything having to do with drugs or shipments of weapons. Kim Namjoon was his partner, but he was mainly there for intimidation purposes. No one ever backed out of a deal when Namjoon was present. Park Jimin was his negotiator and right-hand man. Jimin’s angelic exterior made it easy to negotiate with other gangs when deals needed to be made. He was also good at calming Yoongi down in the rare cases when the leader lost his temper.
Yoongi was dealing with a particularly stressful situation at the moment. A few nearby gangs were getting frustrated with how territorial Bangtan was. It wasn’t anything new, but apparently, this frustration had been building for a long time. Yoongi was in the middle of a heated conversation with Namjoon about their course of action. Jimin was perched nearby, sitting on Yoongi’s mahogany desk while playing with a Rubix Cube.
“What’s our most prevalent threat currently?” Yoongi inquired, crossing his legs and leaning back in his desk chair.
Namjoon leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him. “Seventeen and Twice seem to be the most restless as of right now,” he replied, his expression grim.
Seventeen was a large group, but not as large as Bangtan. The difference was that Soonyoung (the leader) surrounded himself closely by men he trusted, even more so than Yoongi. Anyone would naturally think that being such a large group, they were the bigger threat. However, Yoongi knew not to underestimate Twice. Their group was just as large and was made up entirely of females. It would be stupid to think that being composed of females made them weak or vulnerable. This wasn’t the case in the slightest. The group was completely badass, to put it bluntly. Jihyo, their leader, was just as ruthless as Yoongi. Needless to say, Yoongi was more worried about negotiating with her.
“We should attempt to negotiate with Seventeen first,” Namjoon spoke when Yoongi failed to respond. “They’ll be much easier to talk to. We can just send Jimin in there and I’m sure we can work something out.”
Yoongi shook his head. “No,” he replied tersely. “That’s unwise. Seventeen will no doubt have heard that Twice is also feeling restless about our boundaries. They’ll be curious as to what Jihyo decides. If we talk to them first, they might turn to Jihyo and let her know that we attempted to negotiate with them.”
Namjoon raised a brow. “Then what do you suggest?”
“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m saying that we’re going to talk to Twice first. We can send Jimin in and he can try to negotiate with Jihyo.”
“That’s not going to be easy,” Jimin piped up, seemingly tired of them referencing him like he wasn’t there.
“There’s no doubt in my mind that it won’t be. But you’ve never backed away from a challenge, have you?” Yoongi questioned, knowing that it would push the right buttons.
Jimin smiled coyly. “You’re correct, Min.” He hopped off the desk, stretching his back. “I should go see if Hoseok’s back yet, he owes me ten thousand won.”
Yoongi scoffed. “What childish bet have you two gotten yourselves into now?”
Jimin grinned in response. Before anyone could say anything more on the matter, Yoongi’s office door flew open. Taehyung and Hoseok stood in the doorway, both covered in sweat and dried blood.
“You two look disgusting, did today’s mission not go well?” Jimin teased.
“What happened?” Yoongi demanded immediately, the grim look on Taehyung’s face giving away that something was wrong.
Hoseok, ever the mediator of tense situations, gave his infamous ‘sunshine’ smile. “It’s a funny story, really,” he began.
“It’s not,” Taehyung interrupted.
“Someone better tell me what the fuck happened before it gets ugly in here,” Yoongi growled. “What. Did. You. Do?”
“You know how you wanted us to go teach Jaesun and his men a lesson?” Taehyung interrupted before the tension in the room could escalate. “Well, someone caught us.”
Yoongi narrowed his eyes. “What? Who?”
Hoseok shrugged. “Some young kid. He was probably walking home from work considering he was wearing a uniform. He found us beating on Jaesun and his three goons in an alley and blew his own cover by threatening to call the cops.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes. “What a nice story. Why didn’t you just kill him?”
Hoseok’s lips curled into a smirk. “You see, hyung, we were going to. But we found that he’s just too adorable to kill. You should see him, I’m sure you’d feel the same way.”
“I’m straight, Hoseok,” Yoongi said flatly. “Just eliminate him, I don’t care for the theatrics.”
Suddenly, they heard yelling coming from outside Yoongi’s office. Taehyung and Hoseok stepped inside, making room for a tall, muscular man to deposit someone on the hardwood floor.
“And that would be him,” Hoseok said cheerfully.
Yoongi stood abruptly, anger clearly written across his face. He opened his mouth to bark orders at everyone, to tell them to remove whoever they’d just brought in and have him executed. But his breath caught in his throat as the man on the floor entered his line of sight.
Dark hair, almost black, was parted down the middle of his head and grazing sharp cheekbones. His skin was pale and his eyes were a warm brown colour, though his pupils were blown wide with fear. His lips were a bright, cherry red, twisted into a pout. Dark circles under his eyes obstructed the beauty of his features. He was kneeling on the floor, the tight shirt he was wearing strained as he tried to push himself up. One of Yoongi’s men that had thrown him in the room grabbed the smaller man by his hair and yanked his head back so his neck was barred, his eyes forced to stare into Yoongi’s.
Yoongi watched a scowl form on his face. “Get your hands off me,” he snarled, his voice strained. “Someone will come looking for me! I’ll alert the police! You’ll all be arrested!”
Everyone saw right through his brave facade. The boy was terrified. He appeared to be at least a few years younger than Yoongi. Yoongi’s emotionless mask fell on his face with practice once he finished his examination.
“You might want to watch that mouth of yours,” Yoongi said cooly, his voice causing the younger male to flinch. He then turned to Hoseok and Taehyung. “Did you two really have to bring him here? Was that absolutely necessary?”
Hoseok frowned while Taehyung’s expression remained stoic. “You’re so stiff all the time, Yoongi. You need to have a little fun. You know, let loose every once and a while. Since you refuse to go out with us, we thought it would be better to bring the fun to you! He can be your boy toy. Look at him, isn’t he precious?” Hoseok cooed. He reached out his hand and traced down the younger male’s neck, across his collarbone, revelling in the obvious flinch that he received.
“I don’t need a boy toy,” Yoongi replied in distaste, watching as the man’s expression filled with even more terror at Hoseok’s response.
“Come on,” Hoseok whined.
“What if we made a deal?” Taehyung interrupted, finally speaking.
“I don’t participate in your petty bets,” Yoongi hissed.
Taehyung rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bet. It’s a deal. The conditions would be simple, it’s like a game. You keep him for six months. If you decide you don’t want him after that, we’ll get rid of him.”
The man’s eyes widened. “G-Get rid of me? What does that mean?” he asked hysterically, wincing when the grip on his hair tightened. No one replied. It seemed to dawn on him then that he was probably going to end up dead no matter what. Tears filled up in his dark eyes and his bottom lip began to tremble. “N-No, please. Just let me go! I’ve changed my mind, I promise I won’t tell anyone about what I saw!”
Yoongi studied the utterly terrified expression on the stranger’s face. He wasn’t interested in having a “boy toy,” as Hoseok had phrased it. He wasn’t even gay, after all. But he had to admit that there was something enticing about the stranger. He was oddly curious.
“Fine,” Yoongi agreed, with some reluctance. “Six months. After that, do with him as you please.” He sat down in his chair once more, waving his hand in dismissal. “Get him out of my sight right now. And all of you, leave my office at once.”
“Yes sir,” they responded, all except the sobbing man on kneeling on the office floor.
The stranger was dragged out of the room by his arm, his cries echoing in the hallway until they faded down a corridor in the distance. Taehyung and Hoseok nodded at him once before exiting. Even Jimin took his leave, sensing that Namjoon and Yoongi required some privacy to make their plan.
Namjoon turned to Yoongi with a raised brow. “Six months, eh? Should be interesting.”
Yoongi shrugged. “It can be rather dull around here. We’ll see what happens.”
Namjoon’s lips curled up slightly. “Dull? I’d like to hear your definition of exciting.”
Yoongi’s expression shifted again. He was back to his all-business mode. “Let’s get this meeting over with, I have important things to do later.”
“Like formally meet your new toy?”
“Shut up, Kim.”
The man’s eyes widened in terror when he heard the door open and saw Yoongi step inside. “I-It wasn’t me!” he instantly attempted to defend himself.
Yoongi scoffed, closing the door behind him. As if he thought the kid had handcuffed himself to Yoongi’s bed. Because that made perfect sense. “I know,” he responded, humouring him. “It was Hoseok.”
The man’s eyes widened. “T-That’s his name?”
Yoongi nodded, pulling up a chair to sit across from the bed that the man was sprawled across. “I guess he wanted us formally introduced, hm?”
“Please don’t hurt me,” the man whispered nervously, avoiding Yoongi’s gaze. “P-Please I . . . I just want to go home. I don’t have a lot of money b-but I can work something out—”
“I don’t want your money,” Yoongi interrupted, his voice void of emotion. “I don’t need it. You’ve seen too much and everyone else seems to want you here so you’ll be staying for a while.” He watched the hope fade from the man’s eyes. “Since you’ll be here for some time, I think we should get to know each other. Don’t you agree? Why don’t we start with names? I’m known as Suga, but you may call me Yoongi.”
Code names were essential for members of influential gangs. Everyone in Bangtan had one. It was something they either created themselves or something that someone suggested for them.
Yoongi learned a lot about him that day. Perhaps it was the fact that the man was terrified of him and the idea that he could be killed in just a few months’ time. He learned that his name was Jungkook. He was twenty-one and was certain that no one would come looking for him. He didn’t have anyone that would come looking for him. He learned that Jungkook was an aspiring musician, but he worked as a bartender full-time instead of in the studio where he really wanted to be. When Yoongi asked why Jungkook was comfortable telling him all of that, Jungkook’s reply was emotionless.
“You’re going to kill me in six months, aren’t you? I might as well tell you about myself. I have nothing to lose since my fate is already set in stone.”
Yoongi hummed at that. He stood then, intent on finding the key so he could get Jungkook out of his bed. “You’ll be acquainted with the lifestyle in due time. I’ll go find Hoseok to get the key for the cuffs.”
Jungkook seemed oddly confused by that, which Yoongi almost found adorable. Almost. “So you are going to kill me?” Jungkook’s voice followed Yoongi out the door.
Yoongi didn’t respond.
Jungkook was assimilated to the gang lifestyle gradually. He learned the names of the most important members and their roles. He learned a bit about the concept of rival gangs and who was considered the most dangerous at various points in time. He got particularly close with Jimin, surprising no one. Jimin was the easiest to talk to and get along with since he was the least intimidating.
Jungkook did his best to avoid Yoongi upon realising he was the leader. He also avoided Taehyung and Hoseok, clearly because they were the ones who had taken him captive. He’d also witnessed them brutally beating Jaesun and his men and hadn’t quite recovered from that.
Yoongi had lost track of how long it had been. Jungkook had stopped begging to be let go, but the leader would catch his longing gazes whenever someone left the complex. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still afraid, though. The violence that went along with being surrounded by a gang wasn’t something that he could just get used to. Whenever a weapon was displayed or a playful fight broke out, Jungkook was the first to cower away in fear and flee the room.
Hoseok was nosy as hell, wanting to know how Jungkook and Yoongi were getting along. Yoongi was brutally honest with him: they weren’t getting along. They barely talked at all. Jungkook was petrified of him and Yoongi was fine with that.
For a while, that is.
As the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, Yoongi found himself feeling restless. He actually wanted Jungkook to talk to him. He didn’t really know why. It was this odd feeling that crept up on him out of the blue.
Jungkook was attractive. There was no doubt in Yoongi’s mind about that. It didn’t bother him that he thought so. It was just an observation, after all. But Jungkook’s face, his sculpted body that Yoongi had seen per accident wouldn’t leave his mind.
He was becoming obsessive. And he didn’t like it, one bit.
He attempted to set himself straight, quite literally. He brought in a few girls from closely related gangs, ones that Bangtan had been in good standing with for a long time. He used them for pleasure, something he’d been doing for a long time. But it stopped satisfying him. He didn’t feel satisfaction by having his cock down someone’s throat when that someone was a woman with sticky lipstick and tight fishnets.
As Jungkook’s time in the gang dragged on, Yoongi began to feel restless. He’d lost track of how long it had been since they’d kidnapped Jungkook. It appeared that Jungkook had lost track as well, given how uncomfortable he’d looked in the past few weeks. He was always looking over his shoulder, jumping and flinching at the smallest of things. At one point, Seokjin had lightly clapped Jungkook on the back on his way by, and Jungkook had all but thrown himself into the nearest wall while cowering in fear. Seokjin had apologised immediately, confused as to what he’d done to startle the younger so badly.
It seemed that everyone had forgotten that Jungkook was essentially on death row. All but Yoongi and Jungkook.
Yoongi’s obsession became unhealthy. He started to envision scenarios involving the younger that left him frustratingly hard and flustered. He was too stubborn to act on it, so he pushed it deep down inside.
Until he reached his breaking point.
Jungkook was shirtless when Yoongi appeared in his doorway. Water droplets ran down his pale, sculpted skin, disappearing into the band of the tight boxers he was wearing. The younger hadn’t noticed Yoongi’s presence, intent on brushing the tangles out of his growing hair. When he finally exited the bathroom and saw the gang leader with his arms crossed, leaning against his wall, he jumped nearly fifty feet in the air.
“Y-Yoongi?” he stuttered, wanting to reach for something to cover himself with. But he couldn’t, he was frozen.
“Jungkook,” Yoongi said emotionlessly, kicking the door closed behind him.
Jungkook flinched, backing up on instinct. “What do you want?”
Yoongi raised a brow. “That’s an awfully blunt question to be asking your leader. Shouldn’t you rephrase that?”
Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Y-You’re not my leader,” he mumbled nervously.
“What was that?” Yoongi stepped closer, crowding Jungkook.
The younger licked his lips, a force of habit. “I-I’m only here temporarily, right? That means I’m not a part of the gang. I’m just a hostage, So you’re my kidnapper, not my leader.”
Yoongi’s eyes followed the movement of Jungkook’s pink tongue, watching it flick out to wet his cherry red lips. Jungkook was extremely hot. His body was so incredibly toned and lean, it was enough to make Yoongi desperate to run his hands along the smooth skin. The thought disgusted him, and he fought a grimace. He wasn’t gay. He had always liked females. He liked large breasts and short skirts and plump lips coated with gloss. He liked women. Not men.
He brushed it off as his hormones stepping out of line. “Speaking of which, do you know how long it’s been?” Yoongi inquired, his tone masked still.
Fear bled into Jungkook’s beautiful eyes. “N-No,” he whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Has it been six months already? Is my time up?”
Yoongi hummed. “It’s been five months and three days, Jungkook. Time flies by, doesn’t it?” He was toying with Jungkook. He actually didn’t know the exact amount of time that Jungkook had been with them. The idea of having power over the younger excited him, and he latched onto the feeling.
Jungkook visible shivered. “Fuck,” he whispered, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, his expression was sad. “You’re still going to kill me, aren’t you? I haven’t been entertaining enough.” He sounded so broken and hopeless.
Yoongi studied his face. “It’s interesting, really,” he began. “Your ultimate goal here is survival, yes?” At Jungkook’s timid nod, he continued. “Then you should probably stop avoiding me, yes? Since I’m the one who gets to decide at the end of the sixth-month mark what happens to you. Isn’t that right?”
Jungkook’s eyes widened at the realisation that he’d been avoiding the very person that could ensure his survival for five of his sixth months. “O-Oh my God,” he breathed, his expression morphing into one entirely composed of fear. “I-I . . . Holy shit.” He watched Yoongi’s expression blearily. “You . . . you still want me dead, don’t you? Fuck, I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid.”
Yoongi nearly smirked at that. He fought to keep his expression stoic. “You really are,” he commented lightly. “You better get started with a new plan, whatever that may be. You only have a few weeks left to prove your worth.” He found himself leaning in, his lips brushing the shell of Jungkook’s left ear. “Prove how entertaining you can be, Kookie. Maybe I’ll let you live.”
He was gone before Jungkook could gather his wits enough to formulate a response.