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You Should See Me in a Crown (On Hold)

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“Have you profited to my cold and shallow ways? I'm the devil you keep inside.”


Charm and manipulation are an inseparable package. And Kim Taehyung was a paragon of both prerogatives.

Yuna wouldn't doubt it for a second; and the fact somehow made her actions on his slit a tad more...sincere.

She teased the tip of his length coated in precum, and he ran his long fingers through her hair, almost condescendingly. She loved the extra gesture for some reason she did not understand, and the attention on her had her exhilarated. It was a dangerous addiction, the need to please, the need to please best.

Her tongue encountered a foreign muscle as she traced it all way through the sensitive skin. It was another tongue, claiming the hilt like nobody's business. But Yuna wouldn't have any of it. It wasn't everyday she got to explore her limits, or show some genuine appreciation. She was so grateful that she could actually sob; and there was no stopping her from returning the favor the best way she knew how to.

She pushed her way down to the hilt and grazed his balls with her tongue. The other tongue wavered for a moment, but pulled into action in no time, shoving her own aside from the region. Yuna pushed back, and soon they were battling for dominance. It was oddly pleasurable and in sync. Their tongues lapped around each other grazing the juncture of the balls with every swirl. None of them made an effort to explore the depth behind the tongues; it wasn't that dominance they seeked after all. It all turned out to be a sloppy, extremely unnecessary open mouthed 'kiss’ per se, but the only pleasure they derived was the sight of both of their drools slipping along the length. Yuna did not realize when the hand on her hair had disappeared, nor did she see the eye-roll that accompanied it.

She looked at Shangil only to glare at him, which did not turn out very well since his face was way too close to her for the images in her eyes to coincide. His nose was getting in the way, and had she not been so bemusedly preoccupied she would have been terrified at the proximity. She only knew he wasn't playing at all; he was as determined and dedicated to the ventures of pleasure as her, not that she cared. She was going to be the best.

“Oh child..”

His voice cut through the thickening air in a swift motion. It was deep, devoid of emotion and insincere. Like their combined venture on his manhood meant absolutely nothing at all.The coldness of it jolted all of her cells out of whatever trance she was in and her eyes shot up to look at him. She could tell Shangil’s did too.

“I didn't ask for this you know. You volunteered, both of you. And here you are hm, being all sloppy on me?”

Taehyung said through a smile. Smile so bone chillingly cold she felt the urge to apologise. She didn't know when her ministrations on his length had ceased, nor the point where her head hang low.

“Oh no,” Shangil got on his feet to meet Taehyung in the eye. Yuna just remained where she was, ashamed and disappointed in herself.

“Please Tae, please, ” Shangil pleaded, voice broken in the most sinful manner possible. Yuna could see him leaning in ever so slightly, subtly trying to claim Taehyung's beautiful face. But she knew better. Certain things were off limits at certain situations.

“Hm?”, Taehyung muttered, supposedly to Shangil; but his eyes fixated on Yuna who looked up at him with big doe-like eyes.

“What do you want, Shang?” Taehyung asked in the same monotonous voice, while running his hands through Yuna's hair once again and creeping into her insides with his gaze. Yuna loved the attention, craved it. She gently leaned into his touch, eyes drooping shut.

“Let me please you, Tae…”, Shangil pleaded, desperate. His voice lowered in sync with his gradual leaning in, until his breath was fanning at the other's neck. Taehyung seemed unbothered at the proximity, so Shangil leaned further in to rest his lips on his collarbones. He placed a soft, sweet peck to his neck, before tracing his tongue lightly across his Adam's apple.

“Hmm…,” Taehyung produced, and shoved his finger in Yuna's mouth. “Not bad babyboy.”

His voice sent vibrations free across his Adam's apple, and Shangil let out a light groan at the sensation on his tongue.

Yuna only kept gazing at Taehyung's eyes as he continued his actions inside her mouth. She let him take full control, only ever letting out muffled moans as deliberate actions. She needed to breathe in, but did not dare move as his eyes bored into her’s, glinting with some predatory warning.

“But not enough….”

Shangil shot up from his previous actions, shocked at the statement. Taehyung finally tore his gaze away from Yuna to meet Shangil’s eyes already glistening with tears. He smirked at the sight as he cupped his cheeks with his free hand, caressing his face with utmost tenderness and love .

“Don't worry about it Shang. It's a rookie mistake.”

Taehyung looked at him like he was a dog being trained how to sit and stand at commands. Patronizing, childish, borderline demeaning; but oh so full of adoration and love.

“You see, pleasure is a physical instinct. Original, but lacks... creativity, hm?”

Shangil nodded his head before he knew it.

“Try as you may but you really cannot please me, Shang. And it's perfectly fine.”

He gently placed kisses on Shangil's eyelids wet with tears.

“It's not pleasure I want from you baby. It's love.

Taehyung looked at him with the same sickening childishness, but the feeling of being looked down on as a lesser human didn't offend him in any way like it should. In fact it was more like a fuel to his fire, urging him to give in completely.

“Look Shang, Yuna gets it!”

Shangil looked down at Yuna. She sucked in a loud breath whenever she could, but never consciously made an effort to move for better air. Her eyes rolled back as Taehyung's fingers went deep down her throat. She wasn't herself anymore, didn't so far care for her damn breath anymore. And that's when it hit Shangil.

She had given herself up completely. As if in a trance, she allowed Taehyung to not just go down her throat but also her entire soul as much as he liked, for as long as he liked.

Shangil looked back at Taehyung who ran his fingers free on his exposed skin, wherever he wanted. They perfectly danced around his neck, nails sometimes grazing a bit too harshly to not be deliberate. His eyes still fixed on his dilated ones, just a bit less arrogant and a lot more alcoholic.

“I want you , Shang. Not your lousy mouth.” He hissed. Shangil meekly nodded, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

“Good. Let me show it to you both, my darlings for the night. Let me show you love…”



Namjoon had an affinity for all things fresh.

Early mornings, sunshine on dew drops, newspapers even and of course yoga. Sipping on his hot brewing tea and intently devouring information from a newspaper rather than his phone might be old school, but he firmly believed strategies did not dance well in strained eyes, and God forbid he taint his head with fluorescence that early on. Sometimes he finds his own exploits glorified in the papers, which he had always preferred over the freelance pretenders over the internet. Newspapers felt more professional and to the point, exaggerated or modified exactly how he liked it. Subtly proud, impeccably humble and undeniably wise.

Kim Namjoon was wise. And a man of principles. And he knew how okay it made everything.

Namjoon wouldn't dare go up to his brother's floor, lest every aspect of the lifestyle he held so important for his proper functioning should come crumbling down. Taehyung was as different from Namjoon as different could be. Exaggeration and frolic were luxuries only Taehyung entertained in the Kim household. Where Namjoon believed in the importance of health Taehyung believed in the eventfulness of it. While Namjoon acted according to the philosophies he had surrounded himself with in the library Taehyung believed in the flexibility of his viewpoints to best suit his needs. For all that its worth, Taehyung was smart; incredibly so. And the Kim brothers together were one of the biggest forces to be reckoned with in the entirety of Seoul.

While Namjoon never once questioned his brother's way of living, something he definitely did not agree on, the stench of sex that invaded his floor made Namjoon decide to have a good talk with Taehyung about his very inconvenient habit.

But Namjoon had plenty of time on his hands, owing to the fact Taehyung wouldn't wake up anytime ante-meridian. So presently he resorted to the air ducts to clean out the sinful air thickening itself around him. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. Early morning hours were supposed to be serene and an enrichment, and his nostrils invaded by the ventures of night scrunched as he tried to block out air.

And even when Taehyung annoyed him, even when his presence mocked everything he had built up in himself as beliefs, Namjoon couldn't once in his life utter a hurtful word to the younger, nor could stay angry at him for more than a minute. Wouldn't. Their bond was way too strong for their habits, too beneficial for both of them to dare to taint it. So when Namjoon walked out into the massive garden to continue clearing out his nostrils through a series of Anulom-Vilom, he could only chuckle at the recklessness of the younger and the prospects of the narrative of the night that he'd spice up a tad more.

Suffice to say Namjoon was beyond surprised when Taehyung stumbled downstairs still in his colorful night robe at, as Taehyung would call it, the ungodly hour of ten a.m. Namjoon was naturally good at blurring down his expressions, but there was no reason to hide them from his brother so he did not bother. Taehyung looked disheveled to say the least, his dark mullet tousled to a mop, yet somehow still enticing to look at. His eyes narrowed to slits and looked unfocused for a moment until Namjoon locked eyes with him. He broke into a glistening smile, childlike and fresh, much to Namjoon's liking; a stark contrast to the rest of his appearance which screamed depravity.

“Good morning Joon.” He said, voice laced with the peculiar high pitch of an ensuing yawn, which did follow a second later.

“Hm. Morning brother. Cannot emphasize on the good though.”

Namjoon managed to give him a glare as he spoke. A soft, rebuking one; the best he was capable of.

The slight hint of concern that passed Taehyung's eyes made the glare disappear in an instant though, only to be replaced by a low chuckle. Namjoon knew that look. Taehyung was never afraid of mistakes, only if they did not affect Namjoon in any way. But he would cautiously avoid bothering his brother, and only the thought of fucking up that one rule he had could beget that worried face.

The chuckle indeed relaxed Taehyung instantly, as he made his way down the stairs to plop right beside his brother on the huge leather couch sitting in a slight more glory against the white backdrop. One of the more active maids quickly got to her feet to bring him his coffee, though the odd timing of his rising had her confused as well.

“You stink.” Namjoon said, playfully glaring again.

“Devil's threesome,” Taehyung smirked. “And it's cons.”

“Did you not lock your door? I had to clean out the whole floor off the stench. Not something I look forward to early in the morning.”

“Oh…”, Taehyung scratched his neck while looking down. “I didn't realize. Sorry about that.”

The maid handed him his coffee and he muttered a sweet thanks to the woman. His need for caffeine was going haywire at the moment, and the gratitude was heartfelt.

“Hm, be careful next time. Anyway, you woke up early? Ten a.m. at that, record time brother”,Namjoon smiled at him.

“Happened, really. And also my gut feels funny.”

“Is that so? Cannot be a good sign.”

“Quite the opposite. I am feeling good.” Taehyung beamed as the caffeine made the drowsiness slowly disappear.

“I'd most likely feel great after a threesome too.” Namjoon said, his voice but a little smaller.

“And how would you know, hm?” Taehyung winked at his brother, who did not hide that he got flustered.

“It's just sex. Surely makes you feel like a superior human for some time.”

“I guess. But it wasn't just sex, I was making love. That's tiring. Add two to the mix and damn, Rose I'd need another coffee!” He yelled the last part to his maid.

“Why do it if it exhausts you?”

“Oh c'mon!”, Taehyung pouted , earning a scoff from Namjoon. “They don't call me Korea’s favorite love machine for nothing!”

Namjoon giggled at the sight of his brother explaining his actions.

“My bad. I sometimes tend to forget your accolades.” He said, ruffling his brother's already tousled hair with affection.

“Anyway,” he continued. “If your hunch is correct then you better go clean up. Good stuff demands good appearances,right?”

“Damn right.”

“And send those two home please. Your partners tend to act silly in the morning.”

“My life is a mess.”

“Doubt it. Now scram before I personally scrub your sins off you.”

Taehyung knew when good shit happens.

And presently he sprinted down the stairs again, chasing the annoyed voice resonating off the living room.

“...And that is where the debate ends. The glass of water would appear half empty when you are thirsty, and half full when you'd rather have beer.” Yoongi finished, looking triumphant over his audience, while Taehyung slowly leaned against the fibreglass door without announcing his presence.

Namjoon shook his head. “How do you deal with that everyday, Jennie?”

Min Kim Jennie let out a stifled laugh at that. She looked as beautiful as ever, in her sleeveless grey blouse and white skirt, which somehow mingled with Yoongi's black turtleneck so intricately it soothed his eyes.

“You should really ask Hoseok. He's the only one in the entire family whose nerves he can actively get on.” She playfully pinched her husband. “As for me, he does make up for it pretty good at bed.”

“Pfft women.” Yoongi exclaimed. Sprawling a bit more leisurely on the sofa, hands stealthily crawling around Jennie's thin waist.

“Always trying out new experiments to degrade me into. So insatiable, my sweet cheeks turned out to be.”

“You really want to be that vocal about our sex life, Min?”

“What's there to shy away from? An audience doesn't matter to true artists, and honey artists we sure are. And I'm sure Namjoon here can barf an advice out or two regarding that special tango you've been into.”

“You've got the wrong Kim in that case.” Namjoon said eyeing Taehyung.

“True,” Jennie said. “Why are you just standing there Taehyung?”

He smiled at her. Quickly passed a wink to Yoongi before sinking into the master sofa.

“Listening..” he replied. “Is he being sulky again?”

“Not really. I've been busy lately, so probably sexually frustrated.” Jennie eyed her husband, who widened his eyes in disbelief.

“Betrayal comes in a beautiful package, I see.”

“Thanks for calling me beautiful.”

“Whatever. Anyway, hello Tae. How've you been, kid?”


“They wouldn't relate.” Namjoon said through a chuckle.

“I can help with that.” Taehyung winked at the couple, making Jennie laugh and Yoongi fake a gag.

“Too much debauchery for my pure soul to handle.” He placed a hand on his chest.

“The only thing pure in your system is the Ativan you inject.” Namjoon said as a matter of fact.

“I'm surrounded by bastards. I miss Hoseok and never in my life I thought I'd have to utter that sentence.” Yoongi rolled his eyes at the memory of his secretary.

“Honey, can you please say that again.”


“oh c'mon! I need to record it for Hoseok to see!”

“Sometimes I wish I was gay like everyone else.”

Laughter erupted in the room while Jennie leaned further into Yoongi's chest. He caressed her hair with all his love even when chuckling away.

“They're cute.” Taehyung muttered to Namjoon.

“Sure. And healthy.”

Right at that moment Yuna and Shangil lazily dragged themselves down the stairs. They hesitated interrupting the joyful moment in the room across the hall. Yuna looked at Shangil who looked just as flustered as her. What happened the night before wasn't an everyday occurrence for any of them; and yet looking back at it they couldn't help but feel awkward at how shamelessly pro they had been. Taehyung looked at them through the glass walls, and his laughter slowly died. It was always awkward, and annoying the day after. And he didn't exactly had fun .

He slowly nodded his head towards their direction, which was a more polite 'get out’ than anything else. Good thing he always had an expressive face, and his eyes and smile could get as stern as he wanted them to be.

Yuna and Shangil seemed to both take the message, as they slowly lowered their gazes and strutted towards the exit. He could make out a tad of humiliation and even sadness on their faces, and not the sexy kind. But if he were to give in to every sad face thrown his way he might as well denounce his title of 'Kim’ and leave the league of families.

“Wasn't that Lee Yuna?” Jennie asked, subtly looking at the retreating pair.

“Yes. And Kang Shangil. We fucked.” Taehyung said, eyes never leaving them both.

“Kang as in the Kang who once dealt in methadone?” Yoongi asked.

“That's right. But that was his son. And Lee as in his partner. That was daughter Lee.”

Namjoon looked at his brother for a long moment. “Kang and Lee apparently aren't partners anymore from what I've heard?” It came out more a question than a statement. And well, a question it was.

Yoongi smirked at Taehyung. “What did you do?”

“Me? Oh nothing at all.” Taehyung blinked like he had no clue whatsoever.

“I just had some…. information.” He slowly smiled.

Jennie chimed in. “C'mon Tae, spill!”

“Urgh you guys,” Taehyung sighed. “So Yuna and Shangil were arranged to get engaged by their parents, you know, take relationships a step further or some crap. Except there's this little problem, Yuna and Shangil hate each other's guts.”

“Juicy.” Even Yoongi was interested. Oh well he loved gossip.

“So they both came up to me for some reason. Said they need to break this arrangement. I guess I'm famous for more reasons than one you know.” Taehyung winked at Namjoon, who only kept boring holes into his eyes.

“Lee and Kang are best friends. Oh well, were ; but not the most loyal partners. None of them. I may have leaked that information to the both of them.” Taehyung smiled shyly, like a child who just did a job right and is just pretending he doesn't want to hear all the praises thrown at his direction.

“Nice going, kid.” Yoongi smirked at his direction. “And I guess those kids got too grateful.”

“Positively. And Hoseok knows all the details you know. Helped me quite a bit.”

“Tch,” Yoongi clicked his tongue. “Fucker’s really taking outside jobs now huh?”

“Don't be like that,” Namjoon said. “Let the man live.”

“Oh you do not know Joon. You do not know shit.” Yoongi raised his voice in excitement.

“I ‘let him live’ once, and he stole my fucking black card! And he says he's a fucking cop! Huh robber he is, a dangerous thief!”

Jennie patted his back. “You actually kind of deserved that you know. You'd been overworking him to death.”

“Oh but he wasted my money like nobody's business! I'd understand if it were clothes, or food, or fucking apartments. But what does he go off and buy? Golden shoes! Fucking golden shoes I've never seen him wear once! He wastes my shit on golden shoes! And that too the pair I'd been trying to get my hands on!” Yoongi yells, getting short on breath.

Namjoon huffed, having no more stomach for hypocritical conversations. Taehyung noticed that, he always did.

“Speaking of things I want to get my hands on–,” Taehyung slowly produced, dragging each word for effect. “How's Jungkook?”

Yoongi instantly calmed down at that. He carefully eyed the younger, looking for an answer the question to which wasn't even asked yet.

“What'd you say Joon?” He turned his attention to Namjoon instead. “Kid wants Jungkook now?”

Namjoon simply shrugged. “Whimsical.”

“He's fine,” Yoongi answered Taehyung's question, and then smirked. “Fine and fucking Park’s son.”

Taehyung didn't let his shock register in his face. Chances are Yoongi could already see through him, but he could always gamble. Kims were excellent gamblers. Compulsive even. So him restraining his face muscles was more a game than the deep prospect of distrust in Yoongi. The Mins were probably the only ones he actually trusted without raising an eyebrow aside his brother.

“Park. So Park Jimin you mean?” He casually asked.

“I guess that's what he's called.” Yoongi said, still glaring. Trying to strip Taehyung to the core. Trying to win a gamble for once.

Taehyung relaxed on the other hand,letting out a deep sigh.

“That wouldn't do. Jeon is mine.” He said, his voice almost a whine like a kid being denied a new toy.

'And so is Jimin,’ he thought.

“Taehyung, you sound spoiled.” Jennie softly glared at him like a mother scolding her child. “You shouldn't get greedy now, hm?”

Taehyung smiled at her direction and that was it for Jennie. She knew that smile. He had already made up his mind.

“True. I wouldn't take more than necessary, I promise.”

“What are you planning, Tae?” Yoongi asked. In all this Namjoon only sipped at his cup of tea, the others’ cups long abandoned.

“Just a meeting really.” Taehyung smiled, but that soon turned into a caricature of merely upturned lips as he stood up.

“With Park Senior.”



“Looks like a Park business.”

One of the officers mumbled in a bated breath. Yugyeom did not quite catch what he meant, but he felt glad that the officer was already on to something. It was his first day in the Seoul Gangnam Police Department. He did not quite expect to be dragged along to a homicide investigation on his very first day, but his superior Hoseok thought it was a good idea for him to start right away. It was only logical to him, the crime rate in Seoul did not cease increasing exponentially.

Hoseok, however, lost the little enthusiasm he had shown for once.

“Tch, always the same damn names.” He said to the officer in a low voice taking care so Yugyeom wouldn't hear him. Somehow he didn't want the newbie to lose his sparkle the very first day. He would take his time playing with this one. Damn his face.

“Do we follow the protocol, Sir?” The officer asked.

“Depends on which protocol you're talking about.”

“Ehm...the legal one?” He stuttered.

“Let us take a look first.” Hoseok points to himself and his newly appointed subordinate.

Yugyeom followed him like a lost puppy. He had that annoying sparkle newbies with the vision to change the world had. Hoseok despised it, but that would just make Yugyeom's breakdown into another pawn that much more satisfying.

The smell hit them before the sight could. Yugyeom felt his stomach lurch up to his throat and so he gulped furiously. Hoseok's nonchalance had immediately impressed him, though the fact did not register in his conscious brain just yet. His head was preoccupied silencing his stomach, preparing for the sight to come.

And yet when the sight hit him with an almost physical impact, he stilled. His stomach didn't flip, hand never moved up to his mouth. He wasn't moving, wasn't breathing. His eyes didn't repulsively shut down, in fact, they dilated, taking in the sight like a painting.

He was frozen.

His head though, registered facts, thanks heavens. The victim had his head nearly cut clean from the rest of his body. Nearly. It still remained connected, the light skin and the white bundle of fibres holding their own against gravity, and Yugyeom could tell it would be only a matter of time before they succumbed. One of his eyeballs had been gouged out, but that too not completely. The optical fibres still held it to his brain, again fighting against gravity. Yugyeom wondered how the vision from that eye might have looked like at the end, could he still see through it? Dangling dangerously, swinging perhaps?

He heard something from his superior’s direction, but the voice seemed way too distant to be real. Even the stench of the pool of blood didn't seem to reach his nose anymore, making him wonder whether all of it was even real. Only the sight remained in his head, slowly creeping down every nerve until he was jolted from his trance. A mismatch. A flaw in the painting.

The eyeball had fallen.

His nerves began acting this time. Way too hard. The voices returned, so did the terrible smell. His stomach made its presence known in his throat again, and when he tried gulping this time, he realized he hadn't been breathing.

The gasp of air entered him at a great force, almost making him fall backwards. It fortunately pushed his lurching vomit down too, for now.

He quickly tore his glance away from the horrific scene. He met Hoseok's eyes who was staring at him with intrigue.


He smiled. And Yugyeom wondered if he was something more than human.

Hoseok turned to the other officers who kept circling around the body like it wasn't even there. Yugyeom followed, trying hard not to step on the blood but it was no use, it was everywhere. On the curtains, walls, furniture, wherever. Nobody else was bothering to escape it anyway. He saw an officer playing with the watch on the victim’s hand, apparently examining it, before silently putting it into his own pocket.

What the hell–

“E-excuse me…” he said in a voice he did not recognize was his own. Too pitchy, too shaky.

“Hm, oh hey. You're the new one.” The man replied with no particular expression.

“Um...h-hi… but did you just…put t-that watch in your…”

“Oh yeah, this,” the officer pulled out the watch just a little but shoved it back right away. “Don't sweat it man I found it first. So it's mine.”

“That's not… you ca-cannot just pick stuff um.. .from a crime scene, right?”

Yugyeom knew it was wrong. On so many levels. But he couldn't help but stutter at the nonchalance of the people around him.

“Oh…” the man muttered, the word meaningfully dragged out. He let out a chuckle.

“Hey Hobi!” He yelled to the senior officer.

“Don't call me that.”

“Can I take this?” He produced the watch out of his pocket and waved it in the air, effectively ignoring his previous comment.

“Whatever.” Hoseok said, lighting up a cigarette.

The officer smirked at Yugyeom before skipping away. Yugyeom did not question further, could not basically; but he kept staring at Hoseok with confusion.

Hoseok did not pay him any attention, instead he yelled out orders to his subordinates, directing them to 'clean up the mess’, earning several groans in return. Yugyeom did not understand shit, so he did what he was supposed to do headfirst at a homicidal crime scene, examining the victim. It was a Herculean task for him to even begin to look back at the corpse, that darned eyeball rolling in the pool of blood right beneath the body. The victim was tied up to the chair, he noticed. With his professional side slowly taking over him, he managed to strut towards the body to look at the damage.

There were multiple stab wounds to the torso, though how many Yugyeom couldn't make out at the onslaught of blood. The head had been almost decapitated, hopefully post mortem. The eyeball surely had been gouged out for sheer torture if the murderer wasn't an eyeball-obsessed freak. There were huge bruises all over the exposed shoulders as well; the shirt having been ripped off at the sides just to inflict them. Yugyeom was taking notes in his notepad, wondering about the weapon or weapons used in the whole ordeal.

“The hell is the newbie doing?” Officer Lee squinted his eyes at Hoseok, who lazily looked up at his new subordinate. His actions made him chuckle.

“Let's go ask.”

Hoseok stealthily made his way up to Yugyeom, who had a pen under his chin.

Quite adorable for a giant .

“What are you doing?” Hoseok asked suddenly, startling the younger.

“Oh.. oh… I–I was examining the victim…”

Yugyeom wanted to say more, without stuttering this time. But the snickers that followed his comment made him reconsider his words. Did he make a mistake already?

He looked down at his notes, eyes not really focussing on his scribbling. He felt utterly stupid at the face of his supposed to be colleagues. This was probably not the right protocol to follow.

Hoseok hushed everyone with a condescending glare before turning to Yugyeom. “Go on…”

Yugyeom found himself flustered. And just a bit flattered for no reason.

“Um...the victim...was stabbed. And those bruises in his arms imply he was beaten...pretty badly.. and the eye-eyeball…”, Yugyeom trailed off, finding it hard to speak of the more graphic details. But Hoseok kept looking at him, glaring , urging him to keep going. The whole distance between them covered by cigarette smoke, and yet Yugyeom could feel the glare just fine.

“The victim was tortured… and the.. slicing probably happened after the kill but I'm not sure…”


Hoseok gave him a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “Everyone here could deduce that much out the moment they saw this…” Hoseok motioned to the officer with the watch, who held it up for everyone to see.

“It's a Park business after all.”

Yugyeom heard the words alright, and looking at Hoseok's gaze it was definitely himself the words were addressed to. But he could not understand a word of it.

“I...I don't understand…”

“Oh c'mon,” Hoseok said, irritated. “The Parks. They leave an expensive ass watch for us after every kill. Don't you know of them?”


There was a stilled silence in the atmosphere as everyone in the room abandoned whatever they were doing and stared at him in unison. Yugyeom felt their gazes pierce, but what he didn't know, he didn't know.

Hoseok looked at him for a good long minute before speaking. “Kid? You do know of the families, right?”

Yugyeom felt another word off his mouth would just add to his embarrassment. So he just shook his head until he felt the message got across.

“... Everyone. Get back to work. Now.” Hoseok yelled, gaze not faltering from Yugyeom for a second.

“Lee, get rid of the body. Incineration.” He ordered.

“Got it, boss.”

“Rhee? Do we have identification?”

“We do, Sir. It's… Park Chanyeol.”

Hoseok tore his gaze from Yugyeom in what felt like a decade. His eyes immediately went to the size of saucers as he eyed Rhee.

“What? One of their own?”

“Immediate family Sir. He is Park Jimin's cousin.”

“...Shit.” Hoseok mumbled and shook his head. He took a drag off his cigarette, the nicotine only slightly soothing his agitation. Oh how he wished for something better at the moment, something... permanent and tangible...

“Choi? Where is the forensic cleanup team?”

“On their way. But I think they are purposely stalling. Last time they demanded double, and we were not very civil about it…”

“You don't need to be. Pay what we owe them and not a penny more. If more bitchy complaining follows feel free to shove that eyeball right up their ass.” Hoseok said rubbing his temples.

“And you.” He addressed Yugyeom. “Follow me.”

Yugyeom had been in a trance ever since he entered the room. It took him a long minute to recover from the shock of his surroundings before his legs carried him out to where Hoseok was.

This definitely wasn't anything like what he learned at the academy.


Hoseok offered him a cigarette which he politely declined. Well tried to.

“Trust me, you'll need this.” Hoseok said as he lit the stick for him.

Yugyeom wasn't particularly averted to cigarettes as he once thought he was, but he had made a conscious effort to avoid them when possible; he was morally inclined like that. He definitely didn't picture himself smoking his lungs out on his first day. He did take the cigarette, his superior just said he'd need it after all; but he'd stall pulling the darned breath in until it seemed essential.

“When did you shift to Seoul?” Hoseok asked, eyes not soft, almost bored.

“Um... about a year ago I guess.”

“Hm. Since your training you mean.”

“Yeah. That was last year.”

Hoseok looked at his abandoned cigarette. So uptight.

“A year in Seoul and you still do not know about the families ?”

“I...I guess I never...took an interest?” Yugyeom just blabbered whatever formed inside his mouth. He did not know what would be the correct response anyway.

“...and you're a cop.” Hoseok scoffed hard, so loud that Yugyeom visibly paled.

“They've gone too soft on you lads. It shows.”

Yugyeom looked down. Hoseok clearly didn't look that older than him, but the cynicism was downright infectious. Yugyeom probably should have scoffed at the 'ancient’ tone, but Hoseok might have looked young, but his aura wouldn't allow it. There was an instinctive reverence that stemmed out off his very existence; it wasn't possible to not take him seriously.

“Well kid, you have to know now. Anyone who wishes to survive in this city needs to know who this city belongs to.”

Yugyeom looked at him with less shock and more intrigue. A detail that wasn't lost on Hoseok .


“For starters, remember the names: Min, Kim, Park and Jeon. Repeat.”

“Min…. Kim, Park and Jeon…”

Ah. Park business. Yugyeom's stomach felt queasy.

“These four are the families I've been going on about. A bunch of crazy fuckers owning the entire crime syndicate of, well, the entirety of Seoul.”

“Crime syndicate?”

“Yes. Any major shit going down in the city, it's always the families. It's frustrating to be honest. Makes us cops a bunch of lazy fuckers.”

Yugyeom felt the need for a drag for the first time. He held the smoke in, reeling in the burn before releasing it out. It mixed with Hoseok's in a cryptic dance.

“The Mins control the good stuff, you know, medicine…,” Hoseok smirked at the younger.

“Medicine, good stuff, yeah…”

“Hm. Their boss is a lousy sonofabitch headass but they do good business. Pay their taxes and excise dues as well. Not much trouble except nitrous keeps disappearing off hospitals.” Hoseok heaved a sigh. “Nobody cares.”

“Next up are the Kims. My favorite bunch, actually everyone's favorite. They manage the extortion department. Apparently they provide protection to those creepy fucks tryin’ to sell you shit you don't need. Funny cause Kims are the ones anyone would need protection from .”

Yugyeom kept listening like an intrigued child listening to some fantasy audiobook. It probably did not register in his head that what Hoseok had been telling him is the reality of the situation. It just felt good to listen. Felt relaxing in an odd way.

“They are two brothers, them Kims. Both of them smart as hell. They actually make a conscious effort to hide their tracks you know, maybe out of respect for the police force, maybe out of pity. No matter what, it works.”

“Next up are the Parks. They got the girls. And the boys. Whatever the heck you like, honestly. And yes, that inside, was a Park business.”

“So they...control prostitution...and–”

“And love torture, yes. Nasty little fucks. Keep us moving all the time. Not a fan.”

“I see…”

“And finally. The Jeon. Manages weaponry, but more than that manages the entire hierarchy of the families. They are at the top of the food chain. Though the families retain their complete freedom, they need to report to the Jeon every month of their... ventures. He likes to keep his own tabs. It's an empire after all, not everything is going to be pleasant.”

Yugyeom had finished his cigarette by then. He was actually craving another.

“And we cannot arrest them because?”

Hoseok looked at him, a hint of disappointment brewing in his features. Surprisingly enough, Yugyeom did not care.

“Haven't you been listening? I said they owned this hecking city. Which means they own everything. The authority, the justice and us. I know, it sounds degrading. And it is. But that's how it is. The cops are here to clean up after their mess, not deal with it.”

“I…,” Yugyeom huffed. This wasn't what he had been expecting. This wasn't anything he had aspired to become. “I do not believe this…”

“Neither did I kid. Neither did I. Learned it the hard way.” Hoseok looked away.

“I never believed ownership was such a fragile term, Kim,” Hoseok breathed out the smoke in his lungs, which seemed to dance upwards in a controlled, circular motion. Controlled .

“But honestly,” he smiled a bit. “I do not quite hate it.”

Hoseok looked enviably peaceful. And content. Yugyeom did not know if he liked that serenity or not.

After all it was just his first day. He had plenty of time to decide.

A shrill ring jolted them both out of their trances. Hoseok clicked his tongue as he produced his phone from his coat pocket, and his features contorted in a snarl when he looked at the contact.

“Satan's spawn,” he muttered to Yugyeom as he showed to him the contact on display. It said Min Bitchass . He smirked a bit, and put the call on speaker.

“Where the hell are you dumbass?” An annoyed voice growled on the other line.

“Out fucking,” Hoseok barked into the phone, the only way he could physically assault someone through the device.

“Halle-fucking-lujah but shut it you loudmouth! And get your ass back here this instant.”

“No can do. Parks at it again.”

There was a silence on the other line.

“Well it kind of concerns them so you better show yourself at the den in fifteen minutes or I'll shove your dick in a meat grind–”

Hoseok hung up the call.

“Gotta go. You are dismissed for today. And yeah, do your own little research sometimes.” Hoseok shot him an annoyed glance before walking away.

“Is that what you meant by ownership?”, Yugyeom asked, voice small. But Hoseok heard him clear.


“That phone call. Was that your owner ?”

Hoseok fought back a snarl, but pondered over what the newbie said for a bit.

“Owner?”, He finally said. “Tch, Min fucking Yoongi can only fucking dream of it.”

He started walking back again, but said his following line loud and clear for Yugyeom to hear.

“I'm just his right hand man.”


The old man would have felt out of place in that colorful club rigged with the stench of youth if he was allowed to. But his experiences and ventures and his very career was leached off youth,so it would be ridiculously hypocritical of him to shy away from it. The women did not bother covering anything above the waist, just the way he liked it. The pretty boys wore laces, fabric of which was thin enough to tease but thick enough to end all imaginations and foster new ones. It was awfully suited to his taste. And the tiny little awkwardness bugging him at the back of his head was nullified with every drink his host poured for him.

“Where's your brother?” He asked.

“Oh he's making money.” Taehyung said through a smile. “One of us has to, you know.”

Senior Park lingered his gaze on Taehyung. He was loudly dressed; red suit glistening under the blue lights, his v-neck t-shirt as deeply cut as his nickname 'V’ itself. Few more drinks and he would lose all control over the drool that's trying to slip out.

He could make such an excellent slut . Too bad family members were off limits.

“Life of a man. Hard.” He said, a slight slur to his voice. “Thank God for alcohol.”

Taehyung poured him another glass. “So, senior. How's Jimin doing?”

Park furiously gulped down the glass, his throat hurting at the impact. It didn't help that whiskey burns so bad. He felt all of his blood accumulate at his eyes as they stung, if it was even possible.

Taehyung didn't really need to ask questions to get answers. He always only just happen to find out things. And Park knew that well.

“Why the sudden interest Kim?”

“Oh it's just intrigue, really. I know he's doing great.” He mixed drinks again and practically shoved the thing down the older's throat.

“Better than when I was in charge of him of course.” He murmured, the words lost in the sea of noise.

“He's a fucking idiot,” Park grimaced. “Fucking around with Jeon's son and all that. Now of all times, when there's rats everywhere.”

Taehyung crossed his legs and rested his chin against his palm. “Tell me about it.”

“What's there to tell? Jiminie is my only son! He needs to take over the business one of these days. And now that Jeon is fucking with his brains and he sees nobody, not even me! He's been worshipping that brat and nothing else. Doesn't understand how this shit works! Doesn't understand how they're using him to get to me! So naive, my boy…”

Taehyung had a hard time not scoffing. Even so he let a snarl appear on his face under the canopy of light and darkness. Yeah right,  such naive he is…

“Well love is something.” He said.

“Oh don't start with that crap! Not you, Kim! Jeon can shove his love up his son's ass himself if he's so demanding. But why use my son? He knows I have no heir besides him! And he's trying to take him away from me! Trying to get back at me! My whole business, whole legacy, it will all be theirs in no time!”

“Only if Jimin lets that happen though.”

“Haven't you been listening, Kim? My boy has been manipulated! Brainwashed! Blinded! That Jeon says he wouldn't marry anyone outside of the families to his son, just to be safe he says! A large pile of bullshit that all is. He wants me gone, I know! He wants my boy so he'd demolish everything the name 'Park’ stands for. He'd marry my boy to his stupid son and feast on my money! He'll turn my boy into a slave of the Jeon family! That's what we'll all be, slaves! I'm telling you Kim, mark my words, slaves we'll be!” Senior Park broke down in tears.

“How are you so sure about that?” Taehyung asked, not a hint of sympathy or concern for the crying old man in his voice.

Park leaned towards him, eyes drooped and teary, agitation clear on face.

“He...he fucking warned me, Taehyung ! Thre-threatened me! I had messed up with him, and he's–he’s out for my head!”

“Oh…,” Taehyung sat straight, interested. “What did you do, Park?”

The older man started bawling his eyes out while muttering incoherent sentences. His sniffles, however, would die down everytime one of the dancers walked past. He'd check them out like a hawk, probably already counting on the money he could cash in with them. Taehyung scrunched his nose in disgust. This whole meeting had really provided him nothing he didn't already know, and Park was being hopeless. Just like his son.

Stalling was pointless. It was time to get straight to the point.

“Senior,” Taehyung hissed, not menacingly, but not entirely without an intention. “Why does Jeon insist on Jungkook's potential partner being one from the family?”

Park looked at him before grabbing at the whiskey Taehyung had stopped pouring for him.

“That bastard has major trust issues. Paranoid in a sense.”


“He doesn't trust anyone who's not as deep in the ditch as himself. He's got major dirt, and he wouldn't want anyone cleaner than he is. Paranoid. That's what he is.”

“Hm. Fair enough.”

Senior Park didn't bother mixing his drinks and started drinking right off the bottle instead.

Gosh help me Kim! Do something! I do not want to lose my business! Or my son! I just wanted to fuck Jeon up, damn it!”

Taehyung almost felt pity for the Jeons at that moment. It must be so lonely at the top.

“The only way for me to help you is by... distracting Jungkook. But Jimin and Jungkook love each other. There's nothing I can do.”

“Oh bullshit , a hell load of bullshit! The Jeon kid isn't fucking brain dead! And as for my son, I know him alright? He's only in there for the glory of it. And Jeon fucking knows it!”

Well at least he knows his son.

“So you're saying I wouldn't be hurting anyone if I proceed to, well, do something to break them apart?”

“You'll be doing me a favor so get on with it!”

“And I'm doing this with your complete permission?”

“Whole-hearted permission.”

“And,”  Taehyung emphasized his words. “You trust me.”

“I...I do.”

“Well then,” Taehyung sighed. “I'd just have to marry The Jeon kid instead.”

Park was drunk alright. But even then the the words hit him just the way it should.


“Well you see,” Taehyung continued. “I belong to one of the families. I'm not giving up my family legacy to Jeon either, Namjoon still keeps everything. And I get to protect your legacy as well. Sounds good to me.”

“Why... why'd you do that?”

“Senior, do you want my help or not?”

“I do I do! But why'd you just–”

“Because I'm the only one who can, Senior. Yoongi's married, Namjoon has the Kim family to maintain and Jimin has the Park. I remain the only viable option in the family.”


“Consider this a… debt. I'll one day, maybe, demand a refund with interest. Maybe.”

“Now I'm scared!”


“...Yeah but, but how'd you convince Jeon?”

Taehyung smirked and looked at the older.

“Oh you'll see…”

Mumbling those words Taehyung landed a strong punch to The Senior’s jaw. The impact registered much faster than the shock of it, for the drunkenness took over his whole body presently lying on the floor.

“What the fuck, Kim–”

Taehyung finally gulped the bitter drink he had poured himself. And before Senior could complete his slurred sentences landed another punch to his cheekbones. Hard enough to hurt, just not enough to dislocate.

“Convincing, Park. Convincing.”

Park stood up. Adjusted his coat and smirked.

“I see…”


“You sure Taehyung is going to be okay?”, Yoongi asks with concern lacing his voice, a rare occurrence.

“I'm worried, Joon. He could get hurt.” Jennie chimes in.

“You guys clearly do not know my brother,” Namjoon smirks. Devious, but missing the tinge of maniacal that Taehyung pulls off with charm. He looks at his laptop, blinking red wherever Taehyung leaves his presence.

“He's the kind who digs his own grave just to punch someone in the face. Don't worry about it. I know how much he can take…”

Taehyung can feel the blindingly bright bulb above his head even with his head covered in a sack. Talk about cliché.

He had never had the privilege of meeting the Jeon in person. He never attended meetings, and neither did the Jeon himself. It was mostly Jungkook who was forced to attend, and Taehyung unfortunately only recently had developed this obsession over the boy.

I wonder what you are like, babyboy…

Taehyung smiled at the thought. His current situation should have rendered any sort of attempt at humor lame, but Taehyung wasn't the normal bunch. He worked according to his instincts, believed in his guts. And when two guys came into La Llorona Night Club to pull him into a corner and put a rather grisly sack over his head, he didn't even fucking resist. His guts were eerily on edge, not with anxiety, but expectations. He knows this feeling, and he trusts it even more.

No wonder Namjoon never questioned his whims, in fact strived hard to fulfill them. Part of it stemmed from the undying love he has for him, but another part just knows how beneficial Taehyung's whims have proved to be time and again. So when Taehyung told him about his plans to mess with the boss, he simply let him.

It had been quite some time, and Taehyung was getting tired of his thoughts. Thinking truly does weaken resolves, he discovered. His resolve was shaking too with the passage of time, what a sleek move from Jeon. It was indeed impressive, but Taehyung was ready to play his cards as well.

He heard the door to what he supposed was a warehouse open. Dragging, trying not to creak at the intruder. Doors cannot get intimidated, cannot think; but the people handling doors could. And it showed.

Taehyung heard a lot of shuffling, and his head did not throb at that. He was well adjusted, even if he was tied down. It was important, oh essential – to be comfortable while gambling, and Taehyung only pretended to squint at the bright light when that ugly sack was pulled off him.

Before him sat a man in his early fifties not burly or proud as he'd expected. He didn't necessarily look loud, but the touch of class was a tad blunt. The arrogant glint in his eyes were rather threatening than predatory. His perfectly slicked back hair was presumably supposed to induce an aura of profession, but it only barely was managing to make up for the lack of class. His black suit could be an added attribute for profession, but then again those were just accessories.

To say Taehyung was disappointed would be an understatement. He almost gasped at the inability of the man in front of him to induce respect. This was a horrible letdown. Is that what he'd never appear at meetings; because even fucking Hoseok had a stronger presence at his face?

Taehyung was beginning to regret his decisions. To think he'd have to kiss someone's ass he didn't feel an ounce of respect for made him question his trust on his gut feeling. But the giddy feeling was there to stay. Probably Jungkook was better than this? Definitely, he has to be…

“So you are Kim?”

The man asked, his voice deep and strong; but missing the gravity to pull Taehyung down. Nevertheless Taehyung kept up his act.

“Ye-yes… I'm Kim Taehyung. Um...who are you?”

Deliberate stuttering was painfully annoying. But Taehyung managed.

“Hm. Why'd you hit Park Senior?” The man asked, ignoring his question.

Dick move. Taehyung thought. This man clearly had no qualities of a leader. The only basic thing a leader is supposed to do is listen , and yet the Jeon was only concerned with feeding his own vanity.

Ignoring Kim Taehyung can never be a good idea.

“I'm not telling anything to someone I do not know!” Taehyung said, exasperated. His eyes struck with the horrors of the unknown, and yet inside he was only scoffing hard.

A hard slap stung his cheeks, burning his eyes. He looked stunned, like the impact of it had him going stupid. Taehyung was definitely not used to physical assault, well since a long time , but he wouldn't have started on his plan if he wasn't prepared to take a bullet to the heart. Honestly, the slap hurt like hell, and it only confirmed his opinions on the Jeon.


“Remember, Tae,” Namjoon said. “A person who can instill fear in you only through violence is the last person you should be afraid of.”


Jeon seemed to glare hard at the bulky man who landed the slap. “Leave us, now.” He ordered.

Taehyung looked at the man visibly slacken after his subordinates, much hesitantly, walked out.

Hm? Do you have tricks too, Jeon?

The man shifted to a more comfortable posture, and the scowl that Taehyung thought was permanent softened. Taehyung was intrigued. In this state the man looked no more intimidating or royal than he had minutes before, but just a tad more wiser. A fraction of what Namjoon has. Nevertheless, Taehyung found himself regarding the man with a little more respect than he'd admit to.

“I'm Jeon Jaebin. I would have said nice to meet you, but I cannot after I marked your face now, can I?”

“You're… the Jeon?” , Taehyung widened his eyes for effect. Just a bit though. Nothing dramatic, just perfection.

“Yes, Kim Taehyung.”

“How can I be sure?”

The man chuckled. He proceeded to reveal the small dragon tattoo below his collarbones, pulling at the sleeves of his shirt.

“Oh…. oh–” Taehyung muttered, like in a daze, before lowering his head in a bow.

“I like that you didn't blindly believe me. Diligence is always welcome at our field of work.”

Taehyung didn't utter a word, just nodded his head, still lowered.

“Now, Kim Taehyung. Why did you attack Park at your nightclub?”

Taehyung bit his lips before looking up at the older with wide eyes.

“It's... it's stupid really… I–I got carried away….”

“Well stupid or not, I have to hear the reason. And pass a judgement.” Jeon said with a certain sternity to his voice that Taehyung could admire.

“He… he was bad mouthing my family. And Min’s. And yours.”

“Hm? What did he say about me?”

“Well...not exactly about you but...your son.”

Jeon’s eyes narrowed to slits. A very undefined frown sat heavily on his face. Taehyung internally smirked.

“He said… Jungkook was incompetent. And that his son will bring his knees…”

“His son? Park Jimin?”


“What else?”

“He was drunk so...I wouldn't take him seriously but, the way he was speaking just riled me up… he said Jimin has yo-your son wrapped around his fingers would be so easy to take over...once you hand over to Jungkook…”

“And you beat him up for that?”

“Well… not exactly. No offense Sir, I...I do respect you a lot, but...but I hate Park more. I've had a...history with Jimin and I know how he can be. I'd hate to see the Jeons gone...but I'd hate to be under Parks a lot more. When he talked about how much Jimin was suited for leadership I...I just lost it. I'm sorry. I know, I know it isn't acceptable, but… I hate the Parks.”

Jeon Jaebin looked at him for a long moment.

He stood up from his chair and hovered over Taehyung, eyeing him down, inspecting for a crack in his act. But Taehyung was nothing if not a good gambler, compulsive even. He'd throw cards even when the other party quits.

“I've heard of you Kim. Aren't you supposed to be smart?”

Taehyung remained silent. He only lowered his gaze again.

“Is it very smart to just declare your hatred for a family like this? Families are bonded by trust and fidelity. Am I wrong?”

“No, Sir. Probably that is why I told you. I... I've never considered myself smart. But I know my brother is wise, a hell lot. And he says it's better to speak about your hatred than showing it in action.”

That's nowhere close to what Namjoon had told him but Jeon didn't need to know that.

“And what if it gets you in trouble?”

“Even so.”

Another long silence followed.

“Well… I do not like Jimin for my son. What do you suggest I do?” Jaebin asked, never taking his eyes off Taehyung for a moment.

“I...I wouldn't know, Sir. As far as I know your son loves him…”

“My son likes a lot of things. Doesn't mean he can have all of them. Tell me, Kim Taehyung. Do you have a potential spouse?”

Taehyung's eyes comically widened at that.

“ wouldn'–”

“It's your penalty, Kim Taehyung. I like your honesty, thank whichever God you believe in. Never liked that Park kid to be honest. He shares his father's blood, which is a disgrace on it's own.”

Taehyung was rendered speechless, mouth agape in surprise. Not really.

“Now answer my question.  Do you have someone in mind?”

“ No.”

“You, Kim Taehyung, hit a family member, your senior at that. I should have your head by the protocol. But I like the way you think.”

He traced his fingers over Taehyung's jawline. No way Jungkook would not like this one.

“Be the toy for my son. Be a slave to the Jeon name. Protect my son from the snakes I've reared on my own…”, his voice lowered in a hiss.

“Kim Taehyung, this is your penalty. Leave your past behind and take up the Jeon name. Marry my son and dedicate yourself to him.”

“Sir Jeon, I cannot–”

“Would you rather lose your head?”

“No, God no! But this is too sudden–”

“I did not offer you a choice, Kim Taehyung.” Jeon Jaebin smirked.

Taehyung put his head down. “What about your son though? Would he agree to this arrangement?”

“His name is Jeon Jungkook and he's your future husband. That's all there is that you need to know, Jeon Taehyung.”

Taehyung did not say a word, couldn't. Everything had been too easy, far too easy for him. The heaving in his chest was hardly concealed. The maniacal grin on his face had to be hidden well by further lowering his head. Jeon Jaebin looked satisfied at the gesture, at the submission . If only he knew what a pedestal of lies Taehyung had seated him in….

Jungkook. Just you wait, darling...

Chapter Text

“You like it smooth like Brandy, savor the flavor with delight.”


Red was Jungkook's favorite shade. Or so he thought before he saw the red in Jimin's face.

The bar offered them special privileges. They had their personal suite right above the main floor. Jungkook had personally demanded the subdued red hues and the not so humble decor. He had fallen in love with the sombre atmosphere of the bar the very first time Yoongi brought him here for his first taste of alcohol. The taste never left him; and for a fifteen year old Jungkook who had everything prior to that decided for him, the bar, Yoongi, and alcohol signified his first feat at rebellion. The thrill of immorality had had him addicted, the lack of control he felt left him craving. His father had always been the decisive voice, if he said he would be taking over, he would. If he said he was incompetent, he was. Of he said he was getting married to someone he has never heard of, he was. The bar provided him the illusion of superiority, so there he was, basking in the few moments of recluse. His cigarette smoke felt much more relaxed too, until a certain blonde male came raving at him.

The walls in the room were red, the lights amplified the redness. And yet Jimin's face was redder. Angrier.

Jeon Jungkook had always been controlled by his father. So much so that even the very prospect of someone else taking control of his emotions could send him over the edge.

Jimin was invading his peace.

“Fuck you, Jeon!”, Jimin yelled, tears threatening to leave. Jungkook looked at him and sighed.

“Fuck you!”, Jimin shoved himself over the other, who relaxed further into the couch. It wasn't like he could not handle a little weight on his chest, he always have.

Jimin hungrily began kissing him, with no love or lust whatsoever. An angry kiss, a kiss meant to hurt.

He bit the other's lower lip hard, drawing blood in the process. Jungkook winced in pain, and grabbed a hold of the other's blonde locks and harshly tugged at them.

Jimin yelped as his head was hardly pulled back, but moaned right after when Jungkook attacked his neck. Jimin was used to pain, liked it even; and so when Jungkook tore the skin on his neck he only moaned louder.

Jungkook pushed Jimin off the chair, so the latter fell on the floor with a thud. He wiped his lips bitterly, wincing at the torn skin, his eyes boring predatory holes into the other.

“The fuck do you think you are doing?”

Jimin did not raise himself from the floor. It was accurate, natural; him being beneath the Jeon. It felt right.

“I could ask you the same, you fucker!” Jimin cried, loud . He had always been so loud–

“You are getting married! Fucking married! And not to me but some low life bastard!” Jimin raised himself to his knees, only to hit Jungkook on the chest. Lame punches with not an ounce of strength to it.

Jungkook was annoyed. With his father. With Jimin. With the system of marriage or whatever the hell demanded his commitment, particularly when he had no say in the matter.

“Stop it Jimin. You know I have no choice.” He hissed, letting out unreleased smoke. Jimin felt his throat burn with the second hand smoke, and yet the intensity of it nowhere registered itself on him.

“No you stop! Stop being a wuss, Jeon! Can't you just tell your old man to fuck off!?” Jimin yelled again, hiccuping pathetically on his sobs.

“You know I can't.”

“You son of a bitch!”, Jimin barked, now full on bawling. Jungkook didn't necessarily mind the insult, it wasn't very far from the truth anyway. Neither was he bothered by the waterworks, he has had enough of Jimin's episodes to truly care. He did not say a word, only stared at his boyfriend, waiting for him to calm down on his own while he indulged in his nicotine stick a tad longer.

He had only ever witnessed failed marriages, so the gravity of the situation did not pull him down. His mother had several lovers and she wasn't exactly discreet about that fact. He had rarely seen his parents converse, and their relationship always seemed like a big void. Until one day his mother permanently left; and his father let out a genuine smile when her body was 'found’ floating in the Han river two days later.

His father had told him about 'not accepting a dent on his pride’ but Jungkook was too young to understand it. He never understood anything apparently, for his father would always rebuke him for being ignorant. And because a nine year old Jungkook did not understand the concept of adultery and it's gamble with a person's pride, his father deemed him an idiot, thereby taking all of his decisions for him, making all of his choices for him and overall directing his life for him. That's how he had always lived, and now that a twenty three year old Jungkook knows better, he's still waiting for that push , that insane surge of adrenaline to demolish everything he's been conditioned to and off his father. These things would take time, and motivation; something Jimin, who acted just how his impulses directed him to would not understand. Destruction isn't entirely about the nastiness, it's about the implementation of the strategy, the plan , not natural.

“What about me Jungkook? What about us?” Jimin said through sobs, his voice now small and uncertain. He had ceased the eye contact, but Jungkook continued to stare. Unblinking and merciless.

Jungkook sure did like Jimin's… features at some point. He was beautiful to look at, no doubt about it. His curves were electric as well, sensitive as sin. But what was most endearing was the immediate submissiveness. He could be coy, shy or sassy at demand; anything to please him, just the way he liked. But at times like these when Jimin was neither submissive nor exactly the prettiest, Jungkook wonders if he liked him all that much; borderline loved him probably, but liking he wasn't very sure of.

It was a paradox really, too fucking confusing. Confusing enough to avoid the prospect of 'marriage’, whatever the hell that was, to Jimin in a rather insensitive manner. Jungkook didn't want to hurt his feelings, but the thought of marrying Jimin never crossed his mind.

“What about it? You're mine, married or not. Whoever wants to wed me will have to fuck himself with that fact.”

“You cannot use me like a fucking side whore, Jungkook!” Jimin yelled yet again.

Jungkook's eyes narrowed. “You know what Park, actually I can do whatever the fuck I want to.” Jungkook actually growled the words out, and Jimin gulped heavily at the sight. All of his whiny complaining was put on hold for the moment as he suddenly felt weak.

“On your knees. Now.” Jungkook ordered, his voice smooth without a hint of concern.

Jimin could not stop himself from obliging. He never could. Not with Jungkook. Not with anyone else since–

Jungkook harshly pulled at Jimin's hair to make him look up. “Now.”

Jimin slowly breathed, evening out the hiccups gradually. He gracefully undid Jungkook's belt and zip. He was good at grace, been moulded into it. Jungkook's grip on his hair softened as Jimin's submission clouded his senses, wanting nothing more than to provide his man with the utmost pleasure.

He rubbed at Jungkook's member before pulling it out of the confines of clothing. His plump lips parted slightly, taking in the pressure of the tip against his mouth. The heat made Jungkook almost moan, but he successfully killed it in his mouth. Not just yet, not yet–

Jungkook had had a frustrating day. Not long ago had his father very generously at least informed him of his marriage. Jungkook was horrified, not by the sudden decision but more due to the fact that even the invasion of something so personal had not fostered him the required push . He was frustrated by his own ability to take so much, to the point where he had to ask if he was just another coward too pussy to stand up for himself. He was surprised at how much he was used to being controlled and manipulated, how much his strategies simply failed just because his instincts wouldn't allow it.

Jimin moaned around his cock sending up vibrations to his body. Good, he felt good after all the fiasco, in a long time. Jimin was good at this, extremely so; and Jungkook let him have the pleasure of hearing him moan.

Speaking of instincts–

Jungkook had a clear recognition of the feeling brewing in his stomach when he heard his potential spouse would be calling him in a minute or so. He had a tingling nervousness set ablaze in his system, something which generally called for alcohol and sex, and yet the prospects of both were unusual at that time. Why was he suddenly excited over this arrangement?

Jimin bobbed his head up and down on the sensitive muscle, his gag reflex almost non existent. The wet noises and the teary eyes already invoked a sense of superiority in Jungkook, and he ran his fingers through Jimin's hair, patronizingly praising his gifts. Jimin looked happy at that and increased his pace.

Jungkook had let the phone ring a couple of times before he picked it up; one, to seem important of course, and two, for the nerves in his system going haywire to breathe and relax. He didn't know why he was hot all over, expecting so much– because when the frightened voice spoke from the other line, he could physically feel all of the tingles drain out of his body at that very instant.

“Fu...shit Jimin...good good….” Jungkook groaned, his head fallen back on the couch. Jimin was obviously having trouble breathing, but he didn't dare pull off. His nose hit the other's pubic hair, and while Jimin was not a fan of it, he didn't dare complain. And Jungkook knew it all, didn't bother catering to his whims.

“He- hello? Jeon Jungkook?” The voice had said. Pitchy, traces of a whine evident. The voice sounded strained, but the tone registered as a dangerous low .

“Speaking. And you are supposed to be–”

“Oh God- listen, listen man. I know you have a boyfriend and everything but please do not say no? Please man I-I’m begging you!”

Jungkook clicked his tongue in annoyance. Even though his father always made choices for him, most of the time they were good choices. And now the whiny brat had already ruined whatever Jungkook looked forward to, though he didn't completely know what it was. He was simply disappointed at his father, and planned to hold it against him when this whiny creature would not be able take the burden of the name Jeon .

“I get it. It's not like I have a–”

“Damn you can keep your boyfriend I don't mind! I'll not even be around I swear! I've been forced into this you know, I didn't really want–”

“I'm not very interested either so are you done?”

“Yeah….yeah man. Just God– I don't wanna get killed damn it! Thanks, thanks for agreeing Gosh! I swear I won't intrude on anything with your boyfriend! I just...I just want to be alive.”

Jungkook sighed. “Fine. You leave me alone and I'll make sure you do not die.”

“Oh thank you, thank you so much man. I am so grateful I can't eve–”

Jungkook had disconnected. Everything frustrating him seemed to rile him up even more.

And so he needed Jimin. Luckily he was extremely good with his mouth.

Jungkook climaxed right into Jimin's mouth, holding only to his head to keep him in place. The white ropes disappeared into his throat, and when he tried to swallow down the last of his cum Jungkook pulled away, taking in the sight. Jimin gasped in as much air as he could through his mouth, and Jungkook took in the sight of his cum dribbling down his chin. He looked beautiful to Jungkook, disheveled and eyes rolled back stupid at the onslaught of air.

Jungkook collected the dribbling cum with his thumb and pushed it past Jimin's lips. Jimin eagerly sucked on it, cleaning it off of the cum, coating it in saliva. Jungkook ran his hands through his hair again, a sudden bout of affection rising in his chest.

“Jungkook,” Jimin said, as the other wiped his thumb on his reddening cheeks.


“Don't replace me, alright?”

Jungkook looked at him for a moment before smiling.




“Nothing works!”, Taehyung shouted, pulling at his hair.

“But Sir,” Miss Seymour tried reasoning in whatever broken accent she was so proud of. “This is our best collection!”

“Well, Steph,” Taehyung scoffed. “It doesn't work!”

“What's all the commotion about?” Namjoon walked into the big dressing room, generously built at Taehyung's demand. He was one to take appearances in an almost obsessive seriousness; it was only natural he had a large space for his brands.

“Joon!”, Taehyung whined. “I cannot chose my wedding suit and it's literally three days away! And don't even get me started on this lackluster shit Steph claims as her best!”

Stephanie audibly gasped at the rebuke. She took enormous pride in her creations, no wonder she charged half a million for a suit. And there stood Taehyung calling her loud autumn collection 'lacklustre’ like he somehow thought he just could.

Namjoon went through the hangers. “Hm, Steph? Please give us a moment.”

Stephanie was more than willing to oblige. She was wounded , shocked beyond belief and fresh air would only help. She immediately went out of the suite, not sparing another glance at either brothers.

“Well what's the problem? These are nice suits?”

“Oh Namjoon where do I even begin with the problems? Let's begin with what catches the eye first then. Colors. Do you see this shit?”

“Taehyung, there are black suits as well as white. You're presumably meant to wear white but we could change that. What are you even on about colors?”

Taehyung looked at him like he wasn't human anymore. That is something, a strategist, a planner as sleek as sleek can be, but Taehyung never missed out an opportunity to be dramatic.

“ really think I'll wear one of these shades?”

“Taehyung, it's a marriage. There are some processes we follow.”

“Oh bullshit. Absolute bullshit , Joon! Where is the element of surprise? Where is the charm in that?”

“There isn't. There doesn't need to be either. Sometimes discipline is a charm in itself.”

“But not in such a grand scheme of things, brother mine,” Taehyung argued, unmoving from his stance. “People should know, they should look. And why would they look at just another basic bitch? I'm a great part of their future, and it should show.”

Namjoon rubbed his temples. “It's so useless arguing with you. Tell me, what do you have in mind?”

Taehyung looked around frantically, searching through his room in sync with how he was searching through his mind. What could possibly stand out so well to make a strong impression? It should also signify his presence, also be symbolic of his grand plan.

Oh well, what else?

“I think,” Taehyung said, smiling. “Red. Like the wine.”

“Red in a wedding? Unheard of.”

“Exactly! It would be perfect. Dark red, not the blazing one, you know? Velvet should work best, and, and,” Taehyung rapidly paced around the room. “Stones? Nah, too loud. Glitter in velvet would seem pretentious. And I'm not fake like that! No, printed velvet it would be. With black undertones at the perfect places! Yes, I should call Steph.” Taehyung chimed happily.

“Well that'd take some convincing. You broke her heart.” Namjoon said crossing his arms.

“And I'm a mender. Good one.” Taehyung placed a hand on his chest for effect, though all of his antics got lost on Namjoon anyway.

Taehyung called for Steph, who entered shortly after with puffy eyes. He immediately went to her side and engulfed her in a warm hug, muttering apologies and praises. Less apologies and more praises though.

Namjoon chuckled at how Stephanie melted so quick. He knew that effect; he has fallen victim to that boxy grin one too many times. Trouble at it's finest, Kim Taehyung.

Namjoon looked through the suits while Taehyung taught Stephanie her own job and she listened sincerely. They were much better than what Taehyung had given her credit for. The black wasn't dull, the white wasn't intimidating. Namjoon looked at one particular suit, an almost soothing black with the most minimalistic stonework he had seen, but screamed grace by the way it stood. The stones merged with the black, occasionally showing their glory only when the light impressed it's way into them. Hidden from a superficial glance, but real gems to those who sincerely looked and appreciated. Namjoon knew that suit belonged to him, good thing he found what he'd wear at the wedding. Taehyung found him admiring the suit and immediately ushered Stephanie towards him.

“That is so you.” Taehyung said in the calmest voice he had managed in the day.

Namjoon smiled at him, and then at Steph. She grinned bright, and put the suit on him. Good thing he and Taehyung had almost similar sizes, yet Steph took the suit with her for the tiniest adjustments; she was diligent that way. She bade her farewell, with a promise to return with both of their suits the next day.

Taehyung giggled happily like a teenage girl daydreaming about her marriage, and Namjoon had to glare at him to shut him up.

“So,” Namjoon began. “Jeon Taehyung huh?”

“Jeon Kim Taehyung. No one's taking the Kim out.”

Namjoon felt himself tear up a little, and cleared his throat just to hide the gulp in his throat.

“Things are going to change from now on. It's all so...sudden.” Namjoon said looking away.

Taehyung walked towards his brother, gingerly, startling him when he hugged him from behind.

“Doesn't matter Joon. We're the Kim brothers. Always have been, always will be.” His voice was muffled by the older's shirt, yet Namjoon could hear the sincerity in the statement. He was inclined to say a lot, pour his heart out even, probably beg of him to drop the plan and stay with him; but he knew better. He was the older, the 'matured’ one, the 'strategist’ as they called him. And planning came at the cost of commitment, and committed they both were.

And yet he could not envision himself away from Taehyung. How much lonelier would it get?

Namjoon didn't say anything, and the silence didn't sit well with the younger.

“I say that I've got this, Joon. Wouldn't you trust me?”

“Have you seen Jungkook yet?” Namjoon asked instead. He wasn't going to waste the time he had with his brother in fear of the unknown future. They had a kingdom to own after all.

“No,” Taehyung said softly, playing with Namjoon's fingers as he never let go of the hug. “He is my wedding gift. I've heard his voice though. He sounds like honey.”

“You're ridiculous Tae. You wouldn't even look at your future husband? What if you get disappointed?”

“Nah, he'll be my type.” Taehyung smirked. “My gut agrees.”

“Why the insistence on not seeing him though?”

“Told you, brother.” Taehyung let go of him and turned him around to face him.

“Have you tried opening a gift one step at a time? It's so much more fun! Keeps the... excitement going, you know, the momentum? Keeps the mystery lingering. I love mysteries.” Taehyung sighed dreamily.

“I want to see his reaction when he sees me. The very first time I see him, the very first time I bore his face into my head, his entire attention should be on me.” Taehyung said, giddy with the imaginations.

“Element of surprise, I see now.” Namjoon smiled at his brother. He loved how he turned out to be. Making the best out of everything.

“This is why you're my favorite person in the world.” Taehyung wiped an invisible tear off his cheeks.

“That might change soon.”

Taehyung looked at him for a moment before smiling.




“You know I'm the most vocal about the futility of celebrations,” Yoongi sipped on his wine, rubbing his temples. “And yet even me, cynicist of the decade, had his wedding suit picked a week before the wedding. And don't scream just yet, but I was excited .”

Hoseok nodded his head in confirmation, trying to convince Jungkook, who had a wedding in approximately two hours, to select his outfit.

Jungkook was growling inside. He didn't have half a heart to marry a wuss, and his boyfriend was being hysterical again. Jimin had demanded to know the name of the groom; and when Jungkook told him how he did not bother remembering, he had expected Jimin to be flattered at the fact to the point of lessening his insecurities. But Jimin instead was yelling profanities and shouting insults at his direction on how he was trying to protect whatever Tae-something that he was from Jimin's 'wrath’. Jimin's 'wrath’ was pretty deplorable, and the man would have every reason to be afraid; but Jungkook failed to understand his reason to care. He honestly did not care about his 'husband’, and the fact that Jimin was feeding his insecurities over ridiculous logic had rendered the thought of choosing a wedding suit a far call.

“Just pick something for me, will you? I'm fucking exhausted as it is already.”

Hoseok shook his head. “Nope. Shouldn't have said that.”

As if on cue Yoongi chimed in, giggling happily. Jungkook had a hard time believing that it was actually the Min Yoongi that he knew standing in front of him and not some imposter.

“Thanks. Always wanted to do this!” He disappeared behind the back door to the closet and soon pulled out a suit, caressing it, straightening the creases with delicacy. A green suit.

Jungkook looked at Yoongi's smiling face for a long minute, before turning his gaze to Hoseok.

“How did that hideous thing get in my closet?”

Hoseok burst out laughing, while Yoongi stood frozen like a cat who had water poured on it. His lips contorted in a snarl, while his eyes exuded genuine sadness.

“His dumbass put that thing in there before you woke up. Why'd you think he was this early?” Hoseok said through laughs.

“I actually thought he was super into it I guess.”

Yoongi did not utter a word. He made his way to the couch and very clumsily plopped on it.

“He's super into being a stylist. Fucking toenail.”

“Just what did you say bitch?” Yoongi suddenly turned to face them, precisely Hoseok.

“That you Sir, are a fucking toenail.”

“You son of a bi–”

“C'mon now!”, Jungkook cried, a headache starting to form. “Yoongi, why'd you think I'd wear green to my wedding? Not to mention that .” He subtly eyed the abandoned suit.

“It's fancy.”

“Is not. I wouldn't want to be seen dead in that.”

Hoseok tried to stifle his laughter. “He sent that same shit to Taehyung. He returned it with a note saying 'next time you play a joke this dirty I'll be ratting all your hideouts in Japan out to the Yakuza.’ Classic.”

Jungkook chuckled softly. “Who's that Taehyung you talk about?”

Yoongi's eyes went as wide as saucers. Hoseok's reaction had been undignified to say the least, spitting out the first sip he'd taken from his glass.

“Please be kidding.” Yoongi spoke, but deep down he was interested to see the consequences of the present scenario.

“What do you–”

Jungkook was cut off by a knock on the door to his suite. One of the maids jumped up to open the door, and very much confirming Jungkook's hunch, his father stood there in all his glory, white suit studded in emeralds. His face was stern with all the newly formed wrinkles Jungkook didn't see the last time they talked. There was no hint of affection in his eyes, or smile in his features; and Yoongi and Hoseok got up to their feet, deliberately slowing down their movements.

“Why are you not ready yet?”

Jungkook did not utter a word. Nor did he look at the man he was supposed to call Dad. He simply stared at the bubbles on the edge of his shots.

Jaebin let out a sigh. “Jeon Jungkook.” He said, voice sterner.

Jungkook looked at him with a murderous glare. And to his utter embarrassment, his father smirked.

“The guests are arriving. Your groom should be arriving any minute now. And look at you.” Jaebin let his eyes wander all over his son’s unrefined appearance condescendingly as he spoke.

“Why don't you marry him if you're so concerned, daddy ?” Jungkook purposely dragged the word out, indulging his audience in a vulgar joke his father did not find any humor at. Hoseok had to contain his grin though.

“Enough. I thought today I could expect you to act like a proper Jeon but obviously it was foolish of me to think so. And I've been informed you haven't even selected your suit.”

Jungkook looked away again, aware of the words that could follow. Hoseok and Yoongi shared awkward glances, their presence being completely ignored.

“Hopeless as usual.” The Jeon hissed.

“Here,” he ushered one of his helpers into the room, who placed a gorgeous black suit on Jungkook's bed. “You have an hour to get ready. Do not even think of pulling some ridiculous stunt, son, you know those are bad decisions.”

Jungkook threw him another glare but Jaebin turned back ignoring it.

“Oh Min, didn't see you there. Good morning.”

“Morning Jeon.”

“Hm. Please make sure my son makes it on time.”

“Of course Jeon.”

Jaebin abruptly left after that. A pregnant silence followed the suite right after, urging each of them to spring into action.

Jungkook eyed the shiny black material on his bed. It caught his eyes even from a distance. The silver pattern on the extravagant black made it look almost ethnic, surreal in a way. Jungkook loved it.

That was something he could be sure of, Jaebin always had excellent choice. And the fact that Jaebin actually chose a whiny crybaby to be his future spouse was still hard to grasp. The memory of the phone call he had only aggravates him further, and yet deep down he could feel it–

His stomach is fluttering.


His father had a strange affinity with silver, Jungkook knew. But even so the venue left him stunned. Jaebin had made sure not a corner of the huge wedding hall was left without a touch of royal. Jungkook would have very much preferred golden, but the only thing that mattered to Jaebin regarding Jungkook was his existence at the moment and he could actually bask in that little attention he was getting. His suit matched perfectly to the venue, like a piece of missing puzzle, adding to the silver Chandeliers and furniture. Every detail, from tablecloths to balloons to vases had been color coordinated to match the silverware. Jungkook had to admire the diligence even when he was the most reluctant to do so. Just a tad bit of appreciation, a little.

He looked around for Jimin even when he was aware of the other's absence. It only made sense; Jimin had screamed at him the day before how he wouldn't want to be insulted even further witnessing his own boyfriend marry someone else.  He had already had enough as it stood, and Jungkook could definitely sympathize.

He eyed the altar, the silver of it boring into him. It looked astounding. Jungkook may or not have had clapped inside his head.

Now that no one was breathing down his neck nagging him into doing things he didn't want to like getting his makeup done or getting married, yet, he thought about the whole arrangement. His father had practically vowed his spouse was to be a member of one of the families, too afraid of other alternatives. His previous flings had been vanished in thin air to that effect. So Jungkook was very keen on having the Park as his boyfriend, just to be on the safe side. And even so his father had to butt in, and probably just to piss him off, a 'no Park’ rule somehow showed up. The Mins had nobody to marry him to, which only left the Kims. Jungkook's eyes widened at the sudden realization. The Kim brothers?

He had met the older one, Namjoon, heck, admired him at some point even. They were one intriguing bunch, never showed themselves except when completely necessary. The younger one never attended any of the meetings, Namjoon mostly had a lackey attend. Jungkook felt his hands sweat, is it Namjoon he's marrying? That wouldn't be half bad! But then there's the other brother, and the phone call did not seem like Namjoon at all. From the sound of it, the man would never seem like one who can handle one of the meetings, shit got nasty. Probably because he's a wuss? His head began to hurt.

As if on cue, a grey silver haired man walked up to him. Jungkook didn't even notice him at first; he was quiet as a smile in the shadows. But when he made his presence known it was hard to look elsewhere.

Kim Namjoon, with a Godly smile on his face.

Jungkook would love to marry that but if he had to settle for a whiny little brother then he hoped he at least shared those genes.

“Hello Jungkook, you are here early I see.” Namjoon said with his deep voice, smile never leaving his eyes.


“Umm, hey um… Mr. Kim.”

“Oh please, call me Namjoon. We're family after all.”

“Yeah, yeah, right. Hello… Namjoon.”

“You look great. Taehyung would be amazed.”

“Um..thanks. Who's Taehyung by the way?” Jungkook had been hearing this name a bit too much to not be intrigued.

Namjoon looked at him with eyes wide open, unblinking in disbelief. Then he suddenly burst out laughing. Jungkook would have been offended but Namjoon just looked too good. Touché

“Oh...oh my,” Namjoon tried hard not to trip over. “That is so classy, Jungkook… classier than Taehyung. He'd love you.” Namjoon spoke more to himself than to Jungkook, who just stood there knowing not what to do.

“Taehyung,” Namjoon began, now calmed down. “Is my brother. And your husband to be.”

Jungkook blinked hard. Oh…

“And he's probably going to be late for his own wedding,” Namjoon checked his watch, shaking his head. “But then again, element of surprise is his thing.”

Really now.

This Taehyung, from all he'd heard so far, didn't sound a bit like the one who'd called him. Jungkook felt his heart beat faster against his chest, a stupid excitement the source of which he knew not rushed through him.

Right then he was called to the altar, and Namjoon nudged him forward. “Don't worry, I'll bring him down in a minute.” Namjoon smiled again, so calming, reassuring. He had the aura of a man who leads.

Jungkook slowly made his way to the altar, smiling gently at the priest. His father stood by his side, eyes glaring past everybody else at the aisle. Jungkook looked at his side of best men and saw nobody familiar in sight. He sighed, feeling a pang of sadness when he saw Yoongi and Hoseok bickering from the other side. So they were this Taehyung guy's friends. He liked the sound of it, friends. Beside them stood another man, looking at nothing else but Hoseok. His eyes seemed to have been fixated on him, and he was trying to crouch up into a smaller space, making his well built body seem quieter.

Jungkook had an urge to clear his throat when he was reminded of his own idea of asking Jimin to be one of his best men. His father would have probably loved it, but Jimin's reaction would have been fun to record.

The priest continued whatever the hell he was trying to say; Jungkook blurred him out. His senses seemed to have dimmed down at the sight before him.

A flaw in the painting. A stain on the silver, to the point of destruction.

Such a loud, red stain, crumbling down everything Jeon had strived hard to perfect in an instant. The red screamed devastation and ruin.

Jungkook loved all shades of red. It signified danger, passion, destruction.

And while the red disaster denting the scenario walked gracefully with Namjoon holding his hand like it's a precious gem, Jungkook realized how much he had been craving devastation.

Right then, at that moment, the man looked up to meet his eyes; and Jungkook could swear he felt drunk.

Once again, at a tiny part of his subconscious mind which was still not half drowsed, Jungkook admired his father's choices.


Jungkook probably had a lot of questions, he didn't know anymore. Probably should be feeling remorse for Jimin, hatred for his father at the moment, he didn't know. All he knew was his groom held his hand, and he felt his stomach going haywire inside. He could hear his own heartbeat as Taehyung looked into his eyes and smiled, and internally panicked that Taehyung could hear it too. Taehyung looked too fucking beautiful, he cursed himself for finding him a flaw. The silverware got nothing on that man; it was just there to make Taehyung's royalty stand out. The entire venue subdued into a background, only accentuating his features, like that little mole did on his nose did to his face. Like a piece of chocolate in his caramel, tan stretch of skin. Subdued is a good thing, perfection ought not be for everyone to enjoy. Concealed symmetry is beautiful, and Taehyung's long lashes trying to conceal all the dripping intoxication of his eyes attained that concealment to just as much Jungkook wanted.

Jungkook had already muted and cancelled out everything else. So he was not surprised when Taehyung leaned in to whisper in his ear.

What surprised him were his words though.

“I'd say take a picture, but,” Taehyung said, “that wouldn't be necessary now, would it?”

That voice.

Jungkook could not believe this was the voice that spoke to him on the phone. The wording style of both were as far apart as far can be, but that did not even register in his head. He only noticed the texture, this voice in his ear simply cannot whine, it was painful to imagine. And that voice had been pitchy and sharp enough to hurt, not rain down on him like molten fucking chocolate.

“You…,” Jungkook whispered in his ear as well, uncaring of the audience or his father's glare, or the priest’s awkwardness. Nothing else mattered anymore.

“You are beautiful…”

Beautiful was the word. Namjoon was handsome, Jimin looked pretty. Taehyung made his heart flutter in joy by just being there, he was beautiful. No less than a piece of art.

“And you're just how I imagined you'd be.” Taehyung replied, seemingly uncaring of everything else too.

“Is it good? How you imagined me?”

Taehyung leaned in closer. “Breathtaking.”

Jungkook was too happy at that comment, far too happy then he should allow himself to be but heck, putting up appearances wasn't possible anymore.

The priest made them recite their vows, while Jungkook could only focus on the way Taehyung's lips move to unleash more chocolate, he stammered his way through the lines.

Soon two rings were placed on their hands. Jungkook felt Taehyung's hand linger a tad longer on his fingers, but that could just be his imagination. He put the ring on his long finger, all dread for the wedding thrown away somewhere he didn't know. He cursed himself for being so judgemental, so much so he didn't even bother preparing himself for his husband. He should have pampered his skin, paid millions to glow. He should have picked a better suit, probably red; oh that could have been so fine. He only wished Taehyung meant what he said, and that he at least looked presentable.

“ the power vested on me, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss the groom…”

Jungkook heard the words slam at his ear, and a tinge of insecurity took over. Taehyung looked too beautiful for him to kiss; it felt like breeching , entering forbidden lands. As if Taehyung could taste his hesitation, he chuckled. Mouth forming into a box.

Jungkook felt his heart melt. But that, very amazingly for Jungkook, didn't last long as a mixture of shock and bliss took over. Taehyung kissed him, a little smooch to the end. Jungkook chased after the kiss, but Taehyung backed away, grinning wide. The crowd erupted into applause, and Taehyung took Jungkook's arm and made him front the people. Jungkook felt hurt tearing away his gaze from the ethereal man to the damned crowd. It was painful.

Jaebin walked up to them, and for the first time in forever, smiled at his son. Jungkook however didn't care about it at all, his eyes constantly darting off to the man he could now call his.

“Son?” Jaebin broke off his daze. “Huh?”

“Here,” Jaebin handed him a pair of keys. “Your wedding gift from me. A brand new penthouse suite for you and Taehyung, at Gangnam-gu.”

Jungkook restrained a scoff. That was just lame. His father could have handed him down his position as a gift but oh well, he'd have to settle for some stupid house.

Jungkook looked at the keys. “This is unnecess–”

“Thank you, Mr. Jeon.”

Taehyung said from his side, gracefully bowing at the older man. “We appreciate it.”

Jaebin patted his shoulder. “I know I've made a good choice.”

Jungkook looked at Taehyung as Jaebin walked away. “Don't tell me you're actually a kissass?”Jungkook really wouldn't mind anything though.

“Oh far from it. That was heartfelt appreciation.”

“Is that so? You cut me off.”

Taehyung smiled at him. “Of course I did. You don't really think, do you?”

“What do you mean?”

“A separate penthouse is exactly what we need, Jeon, ” Taehyung's mannerisms suddenly changed almost comically. His angelic face was now smirking , his voice hushed and sublime, but the patronizing became as evident as the depth of it.

Jungkook blinked his eyes at the man. His aura had changed completely, had become akin to Namjoon's. But there was something more, something Jungkook couldn't decipher. Nor did he realize the gravity of it.

“You can bring in your boyfriend any time you want. I'll live with you, no doubt about it; but we cannot both be free birds when your old man's breathing down on us, hm?

Jungkook suddenly felt pulled down to reality, his euphoria giving way to realization. Yeah, his boyfriend, Jimin exists…

“Isn't that what we agreed on? I called you, remember?”

Jungkook parted his lips but no words were produced. He had somehow completely convinced himself that the phone call had been fake, no way this ethereal beauty could sound so pathetic. He was still convinced, Taehyung's words only looming around his ear like a lie.

“It's a privilege really, Jeon. We are going to have so much fun…”

Taehyung said as a matter of fact, all the while the glint of that 'something else’ ever present in his eyes. Something so fucking dangerous, and yet irresistible.

His beautiful, alcoholic eyes…

Jungkook felt his days were going to be a hell lot more eventful from then on.



Yoongi walks up to the couple, Jennie hastily following behind. “Honey I don't think you should–”

“Let him be,” Hoseok appears out of nowhere. “This would be so much fun to watch.”

The trio congratulates the couple on the wedding, Jennie admiring their outfits and all things beautiful. Hoseok meaningfully nudges Jungkook, mouthing a 'That’s Taehyung’ in his ear.

'Well now I know,’ Jungkook mouths back, rolling his eyes.

All the while Yoongi looks at them dead in the eye, and asks a maid to bring in a couple of suits. Jungkook and Taehyung could both see the material through the transparent cover. Green suits.

“Are you kidding me with this shit!?”



The penthouse was one made out of dreams. It was so high up the commotion of the city failed to reach them, even when it was right beneath them. Taehyung had all of his desires fulfilled, high place, looking down on people whenever he wanted and a whipped husband who stole glances at him all the way not even trying to be subtle.

But richness came with patience and price, and Taehyung's richness was not something he gave away so easily. He already had a grudge on the other, how could Jungkook just go date Jimin when his destiny belonged with him? It would take a lot more from Jungkook to have his chance with Taehyung, that he had already decided.

The suite sported four giant bedrooms, and a larger than life living room. The artistry was phenomenal, the Jeon was dependable when it came to parading. The furniture and color coordination weren't exactly Taehyung's favorite but adjusting is the way to live. He had quickly selected the bedroom to the extreme left, finding the view the best from in there. The glass walls were another added advantage, entire Seoul led herself bare to his gaze.

Jungkook was hurt at the lack of attention, but he had to remind himself of the arrangement. There were no strings attached; marrying Jungkook guaranteed Taehyung's life, and Jungkook could continue with Jimin while being under no jurisdiction. It was all perfect, except for the fact that Jungkook had had a taste of Taehyung's lips, and now he craved it again. And more. Much, much more.

So right at that night, a day after the wedding, a sleepless Jungkook laying on his soft mattress had known.

He wants to fuck Taehyung.


Jimin didn't have to try hard to locate the penthouse, despite the swollen eyes. It stood hovering over the district, reducing everything else around to mere carcasses of wood and bricks. It stood intimidatingly high, but Jimin could not afford to cower. He had to find that bastard that took Jungkook away from him, warn him of the consequences of competing with him. Jimin had an anger well known all over Seoul; and the people on the receiving end of it hardly ever lived to tell the tale.

He exited the elevator and eyed the hallway, claiming it with them. Whatever belonged to Jungkook was Jimin's to claim anyway, nobody else’s.

He stormed into the penthouse like he belonged there, like an owner, although it was only his first time visiting. He looked around the house,it wasn't breathing. Like it had been ghosted out, not a soul at sight. Jimin stood there confused.

“Well hello there, plum.”

Jimin froze in his steps. That voice coming from behind him, he knew that like his own name. And that nickname–

He couldn't turn around, wouldn't. A trail of sweat made him shiver as it moved down his spine. His body felt ridiculously cold, he couldn't even move his eyes. Only his ears worked, the deep voice reverberating into his eardrums, casually making a home between his bones. It couldn't be him, shouldn't be, please– anybody but him…

Jimin's prayers definitely went unheard, for a very familiar pair of hands slid across his waist, pulling him into a broad chest. Jimin shut his eyes tight, hoping it would all go away, hoping the hands on his waist would melt away. He wouldn't turn around, no, he did not want to see that man again.


Jimin shut his eyes even harder, black dots appearing at the back of his head.

Suddenly he was yanked around, the impact making him open his eyes wide in a reflex. He saw him , glaring into his eyes, penetrating right inside his brain. Jimin didn't know what was going on in his head at the moment, but he saw how much more beautiful Taehyung looked to him.

Suddenly he was an eighteen year old again, drinking in the sight of the most exotic drink he wasn't allowed to consume. The mullet looked fantastic on him, Jimin found himself staring. His hands involuntarily went up to cup the other's cheeks.


“Did you miss me babe?”

Oh yes–so much… except Jimin didn't. Not after what went down.

Jimin jerked out of his daze, recoiling his hand like he just touched the most venomous snake in existence. He huffed and felt his palpating heart, something that has been happening a lot recently, to the point it was almost second nature to him. Except that Jimin did not huff out of anger, he huffed out of pure terror .

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jimin whisper shouted, afraid of his own voice for some reason.

Taehyung's smile faltered, only to be replaced by a boxy grin.

“Me? Oh Ji-min-ie ,” Taehyung pinched his cheeks, only to have his hand swatted away. He frowned.

“I live here plum. It's my home since yesterday!” Taehyung said, a look of offense evident on his face.

“ married Jungkook!?” Jimin almost yelled in disbelief.

“Oh yeah, I guess I did. But don't worry about it, sugar. You can have him all you want! Pretend I don't even exist!”

Wow. Pretending he didn't exist was one of the toughest things Jimin ever had to do. And he didn't think, no, he knew he couldn't go through that again.

“What are you planning Taehyung?”, Jimin hissed, mustering all his pent up anger. “I'm warning you Tae, if any of us get hurt–”

“How've you been, plum?” Taehyung questioned, cutting him off. He crossed his arms in his chest, and his eyes narrowed on Jimin.

Jimin felt himself cower under the gaze, and that feeling was familiar. As familiar and real as the pang in his chest right then.

“And why'd you care?” He asked, quietly.

“Oh, just wondering.” Taehyung chimed again. “Wondering what you did with the Jeon kid. He seems to love you a lot,” Taehyung chuckled through the sentence, mocking Jimin; and yet Jimin couldn't say a word.

“Was it the same what you did with me, hm? Or was he easier? I bet he was.” Taehyung said, coming closer. Jimin should have, but couldn't find it in himself to back away.

“He seems to be a vain one. I know he was easier than me.” Taehyung whispered in his ear, breath fanning all over his skin.

“Is he any good?” He asked, looking at the flustered man while still breathing on his cheeks. Jimin bit his lips hard.

“He cannot be better than me though, right plum?”

“Sh..shut up….”

“Tell me. Do you still cry after sex?”

Jimin covered his mouth with his hands to hide the gasp making him dizzy. His whole being was shaking, the confidence with which he entered the room dripping away piece by piece.

“Do you still ask to be bred like a bitch, Jiminie?”

Jimin pushed him away. “Shut the fuck up!”

Taehyung raised his hands in surrender. “Just asking, plum. Don't yell.”

“Why?” Jimin asked, now regaining control on his nerves.


“Why… why are you doing this?”

“I'm not doing anything Jimin. Not yet, at least.” Taehyung smirked.

“But I do plan to gamble.”

He walked closer to Jimin again, who backed away this time, only to meet the wall.

“Imagine this, plum,” Taehyung raised his hands on an invisible screen. “You and I are standing close. Too close, in fact.”

He leaned over the smaller male.

“Just like this.”

Jimin only glared at the other. “Move.”

“Wait, Jimin! I'm not finished yet.” Taehyung glared back, and Jimin pushed himself back into the wall, hoping for it to swallow him down.

“You and I stand here in this... position. Imagine Jungkook walking in on us!” Taehyung gleamed with excitement as he spoke. Jimin couldn't help but feel scared; Jungkook really could walk in on them...

“Now, Jimin. Would he push me off you, or push you off me?”

“He'd break you nose that's what he'll do!”

“Wanna bet on that?”

“Just move, Taehyung, please–”

“I say he'll push you off me . Even when I'm all over you. I know he will.”

“God, Tae–  he might see us like this just move!”

“Why are you so afraid about that? Does he not trust you?”

“He does. Exactly why you need to fucking move!”

“Wow Jimin. You used to be fun.” Taehyung sighed, taking a step back, much to Jimin's relief. For the very next moment he heard footsteps on the stairs.


Jimin did not hesitate for a second. He rushed past Taehyung right up the stairs to where Jungkook was. He immediately threw himself at him, basking in a sense of security and safety. He didn't notice how Jungkook didn't hold him back.

“I see you guys have already met,” Jungkook said, releasing himself of the hug.

Taehyung smiled from below. “Oh we already kno–”

“Yes, yes. We've met. C'mon now,” Jimin tried pulling him back into his room, avoiding Taehyung at all costs.

Jungkook resisted the pull. “You go, I'll be right there.” He said, voice stern.

Jimin looked at both of the men for a moment before slowly disappearing inside Jungkook's bedroom.

“Quite a catch, Jimin is.” Taehyung said. He lazily sprawled on the big beige couch. Not his favorite, but he could adjust.

Jungkook made his way down and sat right next to him.

“Don't fancy him. He's mine.” Jungkook playfully glared. He didn't miss the proximity at which they had been standing. He did feel angry at the sight, but didn't know exactly who his anger seemed to have been directed at.

Taehyung raised his hands in the air again. “Just pointing out.”

Jungkook wasn't pacified in the slightest, but Taehyung sitting there with his mullet a bit disheveled, in his white night dress had his anxiety turn into something completely different.

He realized he wasn't angry at Taehyung after all.

“.... Jungkook? You listening?”


Jungkook didn't know the other had been talking to him.

Taehyung sighed. “You know our nightclub right? La Llorona?”


“My employees want to throw us a party, you know congratulating and stuff. Would you like to come with me?”

“Of course! I mean– ahem… you cannot hog our wedding parties all on your own, eh? That would be weird.”

“Wow. Now I sound stupid damn it.” Taehyung said, his mouth forming a little pout.

Jungkook had to restrain every nerve on his body that tended to kiss the pout away. If only he wasn't so damn beautiful–

“My employees tend to get a little wild though. It's a strip club after all.”

“That'd be fine. You haven't seen how wild I can get.” Jungkook leaned towards the other.

“I wonder…,” Taehyung leaned in as well. “Guess I'll just have to wait and find out, hm?”

Jungkook knew his knees felt weak. It was not something he was used to. But Taehyung's eyes glaring into his own unmistakably did things to him; new, weird, dangerous things. Things that made him part his lips in anticipation, bare his neck in submission–

“Get ready by seven then.” Taehyung moved away. And a wave of frustration brew inside Jungkook.

Well, maybe Jimin could help him with it.



When Taehyung said his club was wild Jungkook did not expect to be smothered in depravity from the get go. The whole hall was incredibly extravagant, it's people even more so. Girls as beautiful as dreams, boys as vulnerable as sin. They were not the normal lot; they were the lot that lingered in the darkness, too mighty for the daylight to bear.

A good too many people cheered as they walked into the hall, half of them throwing themselves at Taehyung. Taehyung laughed and embraced them all, muttering thank yous affectionately to everyone. Jungkook felt lost, until he was tugged forward by the arm, his fingers now interlocked tightly with Taehyung's.

So I get to hold hands.

Jungkook suddenly felt… happy. Safe and cared for. Loved by people he didn't know. He could feel their approval in the air. Taehyung found a good one, their eyes shone in agreement.

The women walked around naked, occasionally grazing his thigh before feeling Taehyung up. Taehyung seemed unbothered, he was probably used to this kind of attention. The outcasts of society, all coming into one big family within the hall, nobody judged. Nobody cared. It would take Jungkook some getting used to, but the act of rebellion in these unaccepted souls set something in his heart ablaze.

Soon he was dancing like nobody was watching, accepting generous kisses smothered with affection and acceptance. He let himself be treated to the exotic food, let himself be fed with love. It was such a disastrous feeling to feel free, almost scary. Happiness was scary, selfishness was scary. Scary because it was as fickle as a snowflake. Yet Jungkook drank to his happiness, to his freedom he felt after so damn long. Nothing felt out of place even when he was surrounded by misfits, by shadows. He knew he was meant to be a rebel like that, he knew he belonged there. The thought brought so much peace and bliss to him that he momentarily forgot all about Taehyung, who sat there on the couch watching him like a hawk.

It was all part of a process; a path of salvation, a process of realization. What did Jeon Jungkook want most from his life? Taehyung had to know his perspective, feel what he feels. He must know exactly what he wanted, and then give it to him just right. Only then can he find Jungkook throw himself at his feet, just where Taehyung wanted him to be, to belong. It was all about empathy, Namjoon had said to him once.

Jungkook walked towards him with his legs twisting, pupils dilating. Taehyung opened his arms with love , and Jungkook flopped right into his broad chest, inhaling his lavender musk cologne. Breathing it in with the aim to taste it in his senses, remembering it like his skin.

“Are you having fun, Jungkook?” He asked, pushing Jungkook's bangs away from his forehead. He stared at him with all of his passion and desire, but ended up giggling like a child.

“So much fun, Taehyungie , so much!”

“Oh we're already at the nickname level? I love my progress.”

“Huh? What are you saying Taehyungie?”

“Oh it's nothing, Jungkook. Tell me, what's your poison?” He asked softly.

Jungkook looked flustered and looked down on the floor. “I...I have never...done drugs before…”

“Wow, Jungkook. Even Hoseok isn't that uptight.” Taehyung teased.

“I don't want to ruin my life with an addiction.” Jungkook said, voice small.

Oh trust me you would want to…

“Don’t worry about that. You don't do that dangerous shit either. We do the fun stuff!” Taehyung clapped his hands in glee, and soon a packet of pills was handed to him by one of the men.

“But Taehyu–”

“Sshh…,” Taehyung hushed him by placing a finger on his lips.

“If I tell you I've got you, would you trust me, Jungkook?”

Jungkook looked at him with wide eyes, before slowly nodding his head.

“Then just let it take you.”

Taehyung slipped a pill inside Jungkook's mouth. It was a small one, passed through just fine without water. There was a certain bitter tinge to it, not bitter enough to register but enough to prick a bit.

Soon the colors around Jungkook all merged into one. Taehyung seemed to spin around, no, the entire club was spinning. So vividly painted in that one weird color he simply couldn't name. It revolved alright, into a tiny tiny do, at the palm of his hand. The world suddenly was so small, a tiny dot at his palm. Was he God or was he dreaming? And why is Taehyung out of his hand? Is it because he is literally out of this world?

He made grabby hands at Taehyung, wanting to touch him. He still looked perfect ( a bit elongated though), and so soft.

Jungkook felt the couch hardening beneath his ass, until he wasn't in a couch anymore; he was floating through a marble floor. It expanded endlessly, and so many colors were exuded. He looked at Taehyung, he was drifting farther and farther away. no no–

He tried standing up, successful only after the third attempt. Some weird lines were dancing on his skin, but his only concern right then was reaching Taehyung. He ran towards him, arms wide open, until he felt the universe pull him onwards. Soon he found himself on Taehyung, sitting on his lap.

“Oh baby, ” Taehyung said in his ear. Jungkook hid himself in the crook of his neck.

“Such a cutie. Let's get you to bed, pup.”

Taehyung was definitely using the situation to his benefit, calling him all of the nicknames he wanted to. He picked the other up and hoisted him by his arm. Jungkook still did not let go of his hold over the other, cradling his nape for dear life. It was an ordeal, supporting him on his arm all the way to his room, which again, was a luxury only Taehyung enjoyed. The room would always be cleaned, despite rarely being used, courtesy Taehyung's strict orders. He was always ready for a situation like this one.

He carefully placed Jungkook on his bed, and saw him sink into the soft mattress. His eyes never left him for a second, large doe eyes with dilated pupils that just screamed innocence. Taehyung admired the rare view, smirking to himself. He was about to walk back into the hall when a hand pulled him back, shoving him right on top of Jungkook.

His eyes went wide for a second as Jungkook connected their lips, moving his to a slow rhythm. Soon enough Jungkook increased his pace, biting at the other's lower lip when he found Taehyung was not kissing him back.

Taehyung pulled back from the kiss to look into Jungkook's eyes. His eyes shimmered at the loss of contact, gleaming with hurt. There were one too many emotions on display, even with his senses dulled down.

“Careful what you do, baby boy.” Taehyung said, eyes narrowing. “There's no going back from here.”

“Ki...kiss me Taehyungie, please?”

“....Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes. Taehyung, please…”

Taehyung smirked. He hovered over Jungkook.

“Look at this face, Jungkook,” he pointed to his face. “I want you to know, that nothing else will ever feel better than this.”

Taehyung slowly lowered his head to capture Jungkook's lips with his own. The younger was more than compliant, but Taehyung still wanted the hunger to remain. He easily gained entrance, and softly, very lightly touched the corners of Jungkook's mouth. Just a reminder of what he could do, what Jungkook had allowed him to.

Jungkook felt frustrated at the lack of pressure, so much he let out a whine. Only to have all sorts of contact ripped off him in the very next second.

Taehyung dig his fingers into his cheeks, and harshly made him face his face, until Taehyung was all he could see, could hear, could feel. Everything else was a blur, not a blur even, just reduced to nothing. There was only Taehyung running in all of his veins right then.

“I'll now give you something no one else can. In fact I didn't need the DMT to convince you that I'll be the best you have. But even so, just to be sure, while you are so beautifully doped up for me–”

Taehyung kissed him again, this time with a burning passion that broke at his dams. His lower lip was licked over and over, somehow marking the soft skin. His teeth clashed perfectly with him, like a weird puzzle. His tongue grazed every inch of his mouth, leaving his taste wherever he had been , sending good vibrations all over his body.

This was definitely the best kiss he had ever had.

Not surprising for Korea's favorite love machine, but even then the suggestivity induced by the drug was way more sexier, more prominent, more objective .

Taehyung broke the kiss, chuckling when Jungkook immediately tried pulling him back, the string of saliva joining their lips not even broken.

“Nothing will ever feel as good as that, do you hear me?” Taehyung whispered in his ear, breathing on his neck.


“No surprise, not many kisses can actually give you a boner straight away.”

Jungkook had felt a familiar tightening in his stomach earlier, but was too out of it to know. He indeed got a boner off a kiss, that was a first.

Taehyung slowly palmed his member, moving his hand in circular motions. Jungkook hissed.

“Look at me, Jungkook,” Taehyung said, “look only at me, nothing else.”

Taehyung didn't have to say that, Jungkook was already clouded by him up to the last cell of his body.

“Next time someone does this to you,” he continued rubbing the now sensitive skin. “You'll remember my face, only my face.”

Jungkook moaned out loud. Loud.

“You'll moan my name, Jungkook. Nobody else’s.”


“My name, Jungkook. Say my name.”

“Tae... Taehyungie…”

“Good, baby, so good for me…” Taehyung's ministrations got faster, eliciting loud cries of his name all over the room.

“When somebody tries to kiss you,” Taehyung said. “You'll only remember how good I felt, how good Taehyung was. Do you understand pup?”

“Argh...yes...yes Taehyung...Tae–”

Jungkook came in his pants, all the while chanting Taehyung's name in an almost sub - human manner. He was at the peak of his euphoria, and there was only one name he had associated with his high.

Taehyung. Taehyung. Taehyung.

“Good night, baby,” Taehyung gently kissed his forehead and placed the sheets properly on him.

“Rest while you can. It's going to get tiring.”

Chapter Text

“Starting to feel just a little abused
Like a coffee machine in an office
So I'm gonna go somewhere closer
To get me a lover and tell you about it."


The world had always felt a bit too big for Yugyeom. The endless stretches of sand in his hometown to the blinding lights spread all along Han river, everything about the world he knew was exaggerating, overbearing, extreme. Except the beaches in his hometown did not sport unfinished businesses or corrupt officials. But Hoseok had made it quite clear to him, in this huge city, no one cared about his opinion unless it had warnings backing it up.

He felt Kim Taehyung was one beautiful lad, extremely so. And he had never even heard of him before that day.

He had no idea why he was beckoned to be 'best man’ to a person he had never seen before, but the sight pleasured him. He looked kind. He could not say the same for Jeon Jungkook though. The way he had casually brushed off almost everybody's existence in his own wedding did not exactly give off better vibes.

He nuzzled his face into the scarf he was wearing as Seoul drifted her attention away from him. The park bench seemed to drop some degrees in temperature, and the traffic he was getting comfortable looking at muted into a blur, the focus of his eyes with it. His thoughts drifted to the Jeon couple again; it must feel great to be titled the power couple of Korea, he wouldn't know. Taehyung's eyes were shining, he remembered well; and Jungkook's eyes reflected it right back at him. Marriage must be a wonderful thing, not that he had an intention to find out. But he did want to keep updates on the Jeon couple for reasons he didn't know himself. The fantastical element to them was one thing, but the way the blurred,distant traffic noise allured him reminded him of how the wedding had allured him. From the safe haven that is ‘distance’ it looked mystical, something out of the ordinary and indubitably beautiful; but the closer and realer it gets, there's only a whole bunch of chaos. Loud noise and a futile attempt at escape. He did not want to imagine their future life that way, and so he'd keep watching from a distance, drinking off their expense, getting off their exhaustion. He smiled to himself.

After all he was no stranger to the sins of Seoul anymore.


“Listen, Kim. I want you to–”

“Don't bother with him.” Hoseok was extremely rudely interrupted. Frustration tended to bubble in him but at this point of his ordeal he had become almost resilient to the onslaught. He only huffed in annoyance, hands running a bit too harshly through his hair.

“Good advice can only come from the top, first thing to remember.” Yoongi said to Yugyeom, who stood there fidgeting with his shirt buttons.

“Oh yeah? Look where it got me.” Hoseok said, dragging each word as an alternative for a sigh.

“What do you mean asswipe?”

“Please fuck right out of my face.”

“You know if it weren't for me….” Yoongi trailed off, eyeing Yugyeom and then Hoseok. A scowl found its way to his face.

Hoseok stared at him hard. Realizations were never a pleasant thing, the slightest pang in his chest reminded him. Sure there was a border between them. Even still. Even after all these years…

“I get it.” Hoseok said, not an ounce of emotion in his voice. “We all get it. Don't have to rub it in my face.”

Yoongi, for the first time in forever, remained silent.

“Um…. What is that you needed me for?” Yugyeom asked with a small voice. The tension in the air was borderline tangible, so thick it shortened his breaths. Surely he was curious, but curiosity could wait; not choking on absolutely nothing was a priority. That'd be a sorry way to die.

“I want you to stop trying to play cop, first of all.” Hoseok said as a matter of fact, words rolling off his tongue in a nihilistic comfort. Devoid of fear. Devoid of hope.

Yugyeom gulped. He did not know what he had been doing wrong, but he had a hunch. He'd run behind a drug dealer in the past weak, confronted a license less gas station, 'busted’ an illegal wine business, or so he thought. Hoseok had snapped at him quite harshly for having a 'thick skull’, but old habits die hard, old ideals even more so.

“Do you hear me?”


“Good.” Hoseok said. “You've still not experienced the reality of the families. No one does unless they have a close taste of it. And since I'm your in-charge, you follow what I do.” Hoseok spared a mild glare at Yoongi, who seemed to ignore him.

“So you're gonna crack that shell of yours.”

Yugyeom wasn't sure he understood any of what was being said. But he knew things were in motion, everywhere, with or without him. He felt that he had all the time in the world to decide what kind of a life he'd lead in the city, but turns out Seoul simply cannot wait for a person. He had to either catch up now or be left to be crashed and burned, the idea of which did not seem appealing to him.

“What do I do?” He asked, without stuttering. Unblinking. Deciding .

Hoseok stared at him for a minute. “Hmm, not much. I'm pretty sure you're familiar with Kim Taehyung by now?”

Yugyeom nodded. “ Jeon Taehyung, you mean?”

Kim Taehyung.” Yoongi replied instead. “Nevermind that. Hobi here wants you to… spend some time with him, that's it.” Yoongi smirked while 'Hobi’ nodded.

“Spend time with him?”

“Yeah. He'll know what to do. In fact, only he knows what to do.” Hoseok said.

“Careful though,” Yoongi looked at him. “He’s a leech.”

“Don't listen to him.” Hoseok sighed, throwing his head backwards on the sofa, exhausted.

“He is though. He's like underarm smell, you get me?”, Yoongi explained. “You know you should be grossed out by it, try to keep it away; but you like sniffing it anyway.”

Fair enough.

“Except he's addicting. Like body odour on cocaine. That's exactly it.”

“Min, stop grossing him out.”

“He needs to know what's coming.”

“You really compared Tae to the smell of your underarms. I see how it is.”

“Do you wanna know what you are?”

“God– no!”

“Anyway, Yugyeom. Just be yourself with him. He knows what to do. Do not get too attached though.” Yoongi winked at his direction. “Try not to take favors either, although it would be impossible to.”

His body tensed with the cold air snaking down on him. It was a surge of chill, a rush of particles giving him hibijibis in his head. Intimidation, excitement, fear? He didn't know anymore. He didn't know whether he liked the non-existence of concern for his say in the matter either; he didn't necessarily hate it, he knew. Yoongi was preparing him for some gamble of sorts, he thought. And there was Hoseok's nonchalance, stemming from whether a misplaced belief in him or sheer lack of care he'd like to know sometime.

Yoongi looked at him hard, all of his undivided attention on him. Yugyeom definitely was craving some sort of attention ever since he joined the police force and was brutally ignored; but now that Yoongi pierced his skin with his gaze he decided he could use the ignorance a bit longer.

“Remember, he's only there to make you loosen up, show you around. He might, no scratch that, he will try to make you feel...indebted in some sort. You'll know what I'm talking about. And listen well, I don't care if you get crushed in his debt, we'll take care of it. But don't, don't get grateful. Absolutely avoid gratitude. He might risk his life for you but hell with it, do not ever be grateful. It'll come bite you in the ass.”

Yugyeom took the words in. Debt is fine, gratitude is not. Weird but noted.

“There's nothing wrong with feeling grateful.” Hoseok said, rolling his eyes.

Yoongi didn't bother looking at him. “This is exactly why you should take advice only from the top. Peasants like this hoe here only produces more peasants.”

“One of these days I'll sue your mouth shut.”

“Why? Because the truth pricks, does it not? You wouldn't do shit to me though, because you're grateful.”

“I'm grateful to your Dad.”

“Means the same. See, gratitude never ends. You're eternally fucked by default.”

Hoseok rubbed his temples. “I hate how much free time you have to come up with shit.”

“Look at that,” Yoongi said, addressing Yugyeom. “He acts like he doesn't know I'm right. He acts like he'd kill me when he gets the chance. But he's bound by gratitude, you get it?”

“I'm not bound by anything.”

“Don't act like you wouldn't spread your legs if I tell you to.”

“I most definitely won't. Maybe for your Dad but not for you.”

“Oh God I– Hobi!”


Yoongi cleared his throat and turned to Yugyeom with a smile on his face. “Ignore that visual.”

Good thing he never saw Yoongi's father. He made a mental note to actively avoid any encounter for his imagination may go haywire.

“The point is– debts are simple. You pay them back in some way and fuck off. But gratitude is that snake that how do I put it… replace your blood with poison and you'd ask for it, even when it hurts like a bitch. It's so easily manipulated and it will fucking destroy you. And Taehyung makes it ten times worse, trust me.”

Yugyeom nodded.

“Be on your guard, always. If Taehyung deems you boring you're a lucky bastard. But if he takes an interest… let's just say it's never a good thing.”

“...why are you sending me to him then? Is there no other way?”

“If you couldn't tell by now,” Hoseok said, voice raised then normal. “Yoongi has a tendency to over- exaggerate things. Taehyung isn't as horrible as he makes him sound. I'm sending you off to him because nobody else would be as effective. He's the one with all the free time in the world and he makes quite an impact. Fastest and efficient. Saves time for you and me.”

“You know nothing about Taehyung then.” Yoongi huffed.

“Shut up. I'm his partner in crime!”

“Well I'm practically his brother!”

“In your dreams! You are just a minor inconvenience in his life!”

“Oh like you're his fucking best friend!”

Yugyeom chuckled at both of them, who ignored him as the argument got more heated. He didn't quite understand Taehyung, obviously, but his impact was definitely something he could visualize. Yoongi and Hoseok both seemed to be wary of him, afraid even, always on their guard. And yet they were fighting over which one of them was closer to him. It could have been endearing, provided they all weren't heinous criminals; but Yugyeom felt he had lost his right to be judgemental. After all he was walking down the exact same path, going down the exact same way, and he didn't claim to hate it. Not even once, not to anyone, not even to himself.

But the one thing that bothered him continuously– the urge to run away. He had been enjoying his stay in the realm of distance. He had looked at the Jeon couple like he looks at the city lights. And he had craved it. The fading traffic and the elongated lights; and yet now that he was pulled right into the middle of it, he felt nervous about stepping into the truth. Into the ugliness of it all. Reality. Annoying and disturbingly tangible. But he obviously had no choice, and he just let himself be pulled. After all he didn't yet have warnings backing him up.



Jungkook woke up with a start.

An onslaught of radiant blue, bright enough to hurt. His eyes had no time to adjust as they opened in haste, in utmost urgency, to the point all of his other senses numbed down to nil. For a few moments it was all blue, even behind his eyelids as he squinted hard. And then came the sounds, his headache with it.

He rubbed his temples to ease the pain, averting his eyes from the view outside. Blue traffic with all it's cracked glory. For a moment he was almost at peace with himself, crouching down in his seat and resigning further into his own scent. It felt good for a while, to let it all go to hell while he enjoyed the fabric of his suit and how it clad on to his neck, the smell of firearms still lingering on him. As much of a complainer his father makes him out to be, he had never once complained about the job he's entitled to fulfill. He loved the smell of gunpowder on himself, especially when it's Canik. Elegantly built and provides the illusion of approachability, an aspect he's addicted to.

Jungkook gets addicted way too quickly for his own good, but in some way it's always been his salvation. Getting addicted to guns was literally the best thing that had happened to him, or so his father made him belief. At some point he felt getting addicted was his job, but to his dismay a good part of it was rotting him inside out, so hard it turned him impulsive and running after mad excitement, no matter the harm. And one of his impulses sat right across him in the limo, face sombre after what felt like forever, losing itself in the chaotic traffic yet not an ounce of the hustle touching it.

But what Jungkook wouldn't know was the amount of storms brewing inside the other's head, so much so the traffic outside would feel mere congregation of noises if anything at all. It seemed hard to be so calm with the world bombarding him with noises, but Jimin's hundred thousand universes revolving in his head had just had a major shift in it's centre. The centre of every push and pull within him that was supposedly Jungkook until only a week ago was torturously falling apart. It was ironic enough, him feeling tortured this way, considering not many days ago had he gauged an eyeball off his dear friend, who had forgotten how to scream. Or probably too stoic and proud for his own good. Jimin couldn't help but imagine himself on the receiving end of it all, after all, Jimin had always been made to believe how much he was born to receive . Senior Park had promised him the world and more or less delivered so, not that Jimin would appreciate half of it. Taehyung had promised him a whole lot of things he wasn't even familiar to, and so he would not know how much of it he did deliver. Jungkook had promised him a position, a name; gave him everything but. It should have been frustrating, excruciating even; only if he was still the center of his universes.

The balance had shifted, or more so restored , and Jimin was a lot more smarter than the naive sixteen year old who only knew passion. He had always known his universe always ever had one desire, that one desire he could never fulfill. And yet it was so close at hand, so fucking grabbable; yet as distant as the traffic noise in his head. He only ever wanted to know Taehyung's real intentions, real feelings, his whole reality in fact. And it was right there for him to have, but there were just too many walls now, literal and metaphorical. He had always wanted to know if Taehyung meant a single thing he promised, and now a smarter, sleeker Jimin had known.

He promised him absolutely nothing.

The torture was real in his head. He was still on the receiving end, and just like Chanyeol, too stoic to admit it. A fool's gamble, but indispensable. Chanyeol would probably smirk at his situation right now, and Jimin wondered if Karma really was a thing of good measure. He had teased with Chanyeol, offered him freedom in exchange for his eyes without really having any intention of keeping his side of the deal, something Taehyung had always been doing to him. So close to having him, yet doubting if it is all a mirage.

And he'd have no answers, and that's torturous.

For a bigger part of the deal Jimin knows. A lot of it in fact. He knew Taehyung is a gambler, trading cards even without knowledge. But why would Taehyung suddenly find his dealer in the Jeons was beyond him. Jimin was flabbergasted, no doubt about it, but more than anything he was bitter, so much he could taste it in his mouth. And it worsens by the second.

Jungkook did not know why he had been staring so hard at Jimin, and he was surprised by the fact that Jimin did not spare him a glance back. His primal instincts should have kicked in, he calculated; but Jimin dismissed him in an almost disregarding nonchalance. Jungkook didn't necessarily mind, he was merely surprised by the sudden calm that came over the other.

Come to think of it–

Jimin had been quite the amicable partner the past week. Precisely the five days that Taehyung had simply disappeared.

He had been tamed down as a lover, had stopped embarrassing himself with mumbled profanities, had even accompanied him to business meetings; despite the major fact that Jimin absolutely hated being in meetings. For as he had told him, they made him feel incompetent in a way. Park Senior still managed all of the accounts, all Jimin really had to work hard on was looking for clients and bringing in the meat, none of it a Herculean task for him, neither a great achievement to be discussed in meetings. Dirty as their job was, the meetings still embodied class and sophistication, emphasis on the royalty always placed more than the methods to retain it. As such Jimin felt out of place as his position of 'the butcher’. Jungkook could empathize, oh he very well could; for that was what he had been made to feel every fucking waking moment in his own life.

Taehyung never attended any meetings as well. Did he feel the same about it? Jungkook wouldn't know. He could ask but–

Taehyung was never home.

It's been a week since the night at Omelas. Jungkook didn't remember the details, but he remember coming back with Taehyung after waking up in a strange room with a pounding headache. He had been...caring. He had ordered him soup, brought him painkillers. Smiled as well, the beautiful soft one he had only seen as they were getting married.

But soon after he had left, quite briskly, hair not properly done and which needed a cut, but only added to his charm. Casual black suit and everything, all the extravagance carried but solely through his face.

Jungkook didn't know if he should have asked where he was going, they weren't domestic after all. Heck, the marriage was a plain null to the both of them, and the penthouse has seen more of Jimin than of Taehyung. It was saddening in a way, but more annoying to Jungkook than anything else.

That familiar taste he shouldn't be entertaining, considering his experiences.

He shouldn't foster another addiction.

Unfortunately his body wouldn't care what should or ought to be done. Humans were still creatures of instinct and craved destruction whenever the prospect of it arises; and Jungkook was very human.

“You should go home.” He said in a low voice. He didn't care if Jimin could hear him over the traffic, but his solemn face demanded as much of silence as could be gathered. It was a rare sight, Jimin being calm; fragile like a painting, and Jungkook feared he'd break it if he spoke higher.


Jimin finally looked back at him through the entire time Jungkook was awake. His eyes were returning back to focus, but his face still looked soft, almost malleable .

“Dad's coming over first thing in the morning. Going over the details of today's deals and stuff.” Jungkook sighed.

“Apparently there's been problems with the account. It's gonna get ugly.”

“And you wouldn't want to ruin his mood further, I get it.” Jimin said, looking away again. “What about Taehyung? Wouldn't your father expect him?”

Jungkook was slightly taken aback when Jimin called Taehyung properly by his name and not some abusive slur. Come to think of it, he never did use any slur ever since they met.

Jungkook still did not like the way they'd stood so close.

“Don't know. It's his problem to fix.” He replied, bitterness in his tone evident.

Jimin looked at him and furrowed his brows like he was some petulant child, needless to say Jungkook absolutely hated it.

“Keep believing that. I can already give you a preview of what Jeon's gonna be like tomorrow.”

“Well then Taehyung better be prepared for consequences.”

“Put a leash on him. That should do.”

Jungkook huffed in frustration. It's not like he didn't want to do the same, but how did everyone expect him to actually do something about it?

Jimin sensed his source of frustration. Unsurprisingly enough it coincided with his own.

He quickly swept to Jungkook's side, taking his hands in his own. The least he can do is to reassure his position in his life as much as he can, all the while that Taehyung is away. There's something uncannily familiar about Taehyung's abscence, he has felt that annoyance for years now. And he knew exactly how Jungkook should feel.

“Hey, it's alright. We'll be fine.” Jimin said with a little smile, cupping his cheeks.

“That's all that matters, right?” He asked.

Not exactly. But Jungkook wouldn't refuse the attention on him, ever. He pulled the other in for a kiss, surprising himself at the softness of it. He basked in the plumpness of Jimin's lips before pushing himself in, but that's when it struck him–


Jimin was all over him, lips moving in sync with the throes of passion surging in him. He made it heated to just the extent Jungkook liked, slowing his movements for Jungkook to explore as deep as he wanted. He caressed his back softly, taking in all the bitterness in his mouth upon himself. A kiss so raw, so hot and sincere; and yet…

Jungkook felt everything missing from it.

That had been happening to him quite a lot. Make out sessions did not even usher warmth in his stomach, let alone a hard on. Even the most beautiful lips felt hard and just not enough. He was sure Jimin had noticed how he really did not kiss back, or if he did so it was lazy. Like he knew where he had been inside his mouth, but that he'd rather be somewhere else. And not just Jimin, it would seem. The beautiful young woman he had tried getting it on with in Omelas; yes he did go back there just to unsuccessfully look for Taehyung, had encouraged only a fake hum from him inside her mouth while he tried to devour her whole just to look for that particular something that's been missing. It's ridiculous, and utterly irritating, even more so when he knew the partners he had been with are giving it their all; and yet he did not feel a thing. That the problem somewhere was deeply rooted, more than just physical satisfaction but the tenderness and intimacy of the act of kissing itself had not fostered any sort of calm from him had him stumped. What the fuck was wrong, he wondered.

He was quick enough to pull back, and the car starting off again gave him an advantage. Jimin did look a bit shocked at the fact that Jungkook did not push anything further, but as far his state of being is concerned, he wasn't that shocked as was expected of him. For more reasons than one he did not question, did not complain; and instead asked the driver to drop him off at his place.


Jungkook entered the quite house, dark and eerie and a lot different now that the night had gulped it down. Surely one of the maids had forgotten to turn the lights on before leaving,and rightly so since hardly anyone ever was present during the night. Taehyung was non existent, Jungkook would rather be out fucking, and Jimin would be with him getting fucked. Jungkook wouldn’t have been back tonight either had he not had to prepare for his father's visit tomorrow, his invisible leash on him as strong as ever, and with nobody else in view he let the exhaustion of it take over him.

He was tired to death.

Jungkook had been stressed a lot many times than he'd like, but the darkness swallowing him up whole was a measure of downright despair. He admitted he didn't think much, kept himself busy with something obnoxious just to stop the voices in his head urging him to do drastic things. And somehow the empty house had mocked them, riling up his brain into a frenzy. His voices did not like to be suppressed, much alone be mocked at his expense.

He turned the nightlights on as he sprawled on the beige couch. He didn't like darkness, but his headache didn't fancy bright lights either. So he drowned in the blue of it all; in a way he had been through a lot of blue lately. It was calming and stable, not like the red he enjoyed so much but putting him at peace in a way he could get used to.

He finally found the strength to pull himself upstairs. The curved stairway leading to the upper floor sported a fraction of the blue of the lights, and a fraction of the blue of the night sky radiating through the glass walls. Only then did Jungkook notice how high up in the sky he really was, all the buildings dwarfed down and the stars vaguely visible. A real ideal position, the onslaught of all sorts of light reflecting right off the marble stairs mystifying his existence. He suddenly felt extremely detached from the world, as though he was that part of the unapproachable fairytale everybody wanted but could never have. He almost smiled at the thought.

He was unreachable. At the top of it all.

The feeling broke as quickly as it had developed, as he heard the door unlocking.

And he entered.

He was wearing a similar suit as the last time Jungkook had seen him. Pretty much everything seemed similar since the last time.

Except he held more alcohol in his eyes.

And Jungkook's heart beat erratically fast as the blue reflected from them smeared the intoxication all over him.

Oh, and he had brought in a friend with him, Jungkook didn't even notice him until some good twenty seconds later.

He was one of the best men in the wedding.



“Where have you been?”

Jungkook didn't intend to sound curt. But he winced at his own bitterness.

“Well good to see you too, Jungkook.” Taehyung rolled his eyes and went straight off to the couch, grabbing Yugyeom's wrist.

“I asked you something.”

“Relax Jeon. It doesn't concern you.”

Jungkook had had enough. He briskly walked back to the couch and grabbed Taehyung by the arm, just in time to see the intertwined hands.

His blood boiled.

He practically dragged Taehyung with him to the stairs, hands ripped off from the other man in the room with considerable force. Taehyung winced at the hold but did not say a thing.

Light and darkness mated at the foot of the stairs, clading each inch of their faces in seductive showers. But the heat in Jungkook resulted only from sheer anger, which Taehyung deemed pretty unfortunate.

“Of course it is my concern, Jeon Kim Taehyung. Where did you disappear to?”

Taehyung looked at him with amusement curling up his lips in a small smile, and it indeed have the desired effect on Jungkook. His anger melted as smoothly as butter.

“I was working, Jungkook”, Taehyung said with just the tiniest of whine in his voice,and it felt so fucking domestic it scared Jungkook for a moment. Or maybe his heart rate increased for an entirely different reason but he ruled it out as terror.

“I can't put everything up on Namjoon now, can I? We've always worked together, and let me tell you forcing people into giving up their money is tiring.” Taehyung huffed, and Jungkook only nodded slightly, letting him know he understood.

His grip on his arm softened, and he muttered a low 'sorry’ in his direction. He was still annoyed by the fact that Taehyung had just abandoned him, yet the look on his face is not something he could remain mad on forever. It was even more annoying that Jungkook had absolutely no way of knowing where Taehyung was, since he had no known contact on him, and hours of fishing for his contacts had produced nothing either. He disappeared like a ghost, not bothering to inform him of anything at all. But even so the small smile on his face and his beautiful, beautiful eyes somehow made up for certain things.

“Why though? Did you miss me?” Taehyung playfully smiled at him, and Jungkook was tempted to reply with an 'of course you fucker’, but killed his words in time, tasting how sweet they felt in his tongue. He had got absolutely no right to miss him, no right to even question him either. But that'd have to change soon.

“Dad's coming in tomorrow. He'd have questions if you weren't present.”

“That's all?”




Taehyung sighed, all traces of smile or amiability gone from his features. He looked bored, and Jungkook could swear he looked offended, but that was a trickery of the darkness that dominated the light in the little stairway.

“You have no reason to miss me. That's good. I obviously do not appreciate you harassing me right in front of my friend, Jeon. Can you explain what you just did?”

Jungkook looked dumbfounded. Not at the question but at how quickly the aura of the situation changed. Taehyung had stern eyes fixated on him, and the play of shadows no longer induced seduction. It was more menacing, strict and troubling; and Jungkook fumbled for an answer.

“I...I have every right to know…”

“You don't, Jeon. It's not like we are a couple.”

“To the world we are.”

“Are you trying to tell me you so rudely pulled me in here just so you can come off as a husband to me in front of my friend?”

“That's... that's not…”

“You don't have to. He knows.”


“I said he knows about our little arrangement. So stop bothering with your why's and where's and who's. You are a free birdie as much as I am, am I right?”

Jungkook looked hard at Taehyung, his last attempt at being intimidating. He wished his gaze would tell him all he wanted to tell him himself, but Taehyung wasn't deterred in the slightest. He meant what he said.

“You don't own me, Jeon. I'll do whatever the fuck I want to.” Taehyung hissed, chest colliding with Jungkook's, breaths mingling. In any other situation Jungkook would have been overwhelmed, but at that point he could only feel cold anger in his blood. The urge to do something drastic, the urge to stop his mind from running haywire again, the need to stop the voices screaming at him–

Taehyung retreated, satisfied with his outburst. A snarl and a very condescending look later, he turned to walk back to Yugyeom, who had been staring sheepishly at the couple the entire time. Taehyung internally groaned at how fucking domestic everything looked.

“Who is he?”

He heard Jungkook ask from behind.

“Partner.” He replied without looking back, the tension radiating behind him piercing at his nape.

“You can't bring your fucking boytoys over here.” Jungkook positively growled behind him, and it only widened the devious grin etched on Taehyung's face.

So fucking easy.

“But you can. Seems a little unfair to me.” He finally looked back, grin wiped off his face and a blank face present instead.

“Look, Jungkook. I don't know what's gotten into you but I would suggest you stay out of my business, just like I stay out of yours. It's what we agreed on and I'd like to keep it that way.”

Jungkook knew he had no reply to that. Yet.

Just wait till I get my hands on you.

Taehyung threw him another glare before turning back to his guest.

“Come with me Yugyeom.” He smiled and took his hands in his again. Yugyeom took it, hesitation clear on his face as he eyed a fuming Jungkook. But Taehyung drew small circles in his palms, reassuring him. He walked right past Jungkook who gave him a look that could kill; but that really didn't matter much. He walked in his penthouse, grabbed hands with his husband, walked up his stairs into his bedroom; and all Jungkook could do was give him a dirty glare. Yugyeom felt a sick satisfaction forming in his chest which moved further south into his stomach gradually; certainly very sick, yet it wasn't revolting. In fact he welcomed it into his heart without resistance; it was how Seoul had urged him to work anyway.


Taehyung brought him to the room at the far left corner of the floor. He reached out for the lights, but Yugyeom stopped him. The room was already lightened enough by the city beneath and the skies above, something Yugyeom had only dreamt off. He wouldn't let it slip out of his hands by the taint of harsh bright beams yet, and somehow he felt brave enough to hold his ground. He didn't know just how he had brought himself to try to stop the other, with all the intimidation of the rich city lad weighing him down. But only when Taehyung gave him a little smile and complied did he realize what he really just did, and his throat suddenly felt dry.

“Come here.”

His voice was silky deep. Molten and moulded into desires. And yet so authorative and charmingly nonchalant at the same time. Yugyeom followed his voice, even when the room was pretty well lit he chose to let the voice take him down. He sat down on the bed, a reverent distance apart, his body moving with a fragility he wasn't aware he sported. When he looked at Taehyung he could make out the curves of his cheekbones, sharp as they were but the tiniest flaws effectively hidden by the much desirable darkness. He looked like the most exquisite wine to him, a taste of him ready to send him into overdrive without getting him drunk. He loved the distance between, it felt nice and absolutely in place,and he was pretty sure Taehyung appreciated it, for his face showed approval of him.

Yugyeom was happy. His intense desire to please taking over.

“How do you like Seoul?”

Taehyung asked him in the same silk straddled voice, only this time it was lower, barely above a whisper. Like a little prayer to the darkness.

“She's...fine. Very different…”, Yugyeom trailed off, not knowing what to answer. All of his conversations had been going this way lately, nervous and devoid of charm. He felt frustration bubbling inside of him.

Suddenly he felt extremely exhausted, every little thing since his arrival in Seoul taking up his energy piece by piece. His training, the uselessness of that very training, conditional agreements, urgency to throw away his ideals and finally Jungkook's death glare, everything hit him up all at once. So much so his taut figure slackened, his eyes drooped down and he visibly relaxed with a sigh; before he let himself plop onto the soft mattress, which swallowed him with much eagerness.

Taehyung was surprised at that action, but kept his straight face. Was Yugyeom really getting out of hand right then, he didn't know. Didn't seem to care either.

“Is she beautiful?” He asked, easing into the mattress as well.

“At the first glance, yeah. But at the core of it she's like a monster.”

Taehyung looked at him for a moment. “Interesting. Why'd you say so?”

“Seoul...gulps you down in a way. You cannot hold your own for very long.”

“You've got to learn the tricks. Then you can.”

Yugyeom turned to look at him, who had somehow been dangerously close to his face. He could smell the bitter scotch in his breath.

“You're going to help me learn them, aren't you?”

Taehyung laughed at that. A hearty laugh, not caring about his prayers to the dark anymore. He looked younger that way, much like a child, innocent and everything. But the moment he stops it disappears. Or more like morph into something way too sinister.

“I'm only supposed to fuck you.”

“...oh... oh, ” Yugyeom gulped hard at that, eyes still studying the dynamics of Taehyung's face.

He decided to be a bit more brave, the words dancing on his tongue forcing him to let it all out.

Somehow Taehyung makes him want to bare his heart open. He's probably stepping into a downward spiral, but it felt right in his heart.

“You're beautiful.” He blurted it out.

Taehyung had probably heard it more than he'd like to, for he didn't spare him a glance at that. He continued to stare at the glass walls out into the city, the lights reflecting off his eyes like diamonds.

“You think so?” He asked, with no particular emphasis on his words.

“Yes. Generally when you look at something close enough you're bound to see the ugliness of it. But you still look beautiful no matter how close I get.” He said it in a single breath, and Taehyung turned to look at him.

“That's...good to hear.” He paused. “But are you sure about that? The closer you are the uglier it gets?”

“Positive. Take your marriage for example.”

Yugyeom had let himself be incredibly brave.

“Power couple of Korea– the Jeons. Has a nice ring to it. Anyone would be envious  of you two. But then you take a close look at it and you know how dysfunctional it is. There is no great love that's being celebrated in magazines. No trust or security.”

Yugyeom must have been high without his knowledge.

“You've got a loud mouth, I see.”

Taehyung stared down at him hard , as though strangling him right there with his gaze.

And sure enough Yugyeom felt the air leave his body.

He wanted to mutter out an apology, but he never found his voice. The silent ticking of some distant clock invaded his ears, something he didn't realize was there. And now it screamed in his ear, slapping the sound right at his face.

“I guess it's not a bad thing.” Taehyung said, and looked away again. Yugyeom felt his breath returning, along with it a sense of nausea and a sheen of sweat.

“You're right though. At the core of everything it's all ugly. Revolting. Beauty is a source of joy, huh? No wonder nobody is happy.”

Yugyeom tore his gaze away, though it was impossible to not look back the moment right after. He was in some sort of trance, speaking his mind, staring at art . Definitely high on something he didn't know.

“But you're beautiful, though.”

Taehyung leaned towards his face, now fully facing him, close enough to exhale right into his nose.

“Probably because you're not looking close enough.”

Yugyeom leaned in before he knew. “Can I get close enough?”

Taehyung broke into a grin. “Don't make me like you so much. I might kiss you.”

“Will you not? I thought we were supposed to fuck?”

“Of course. But nobody said anything about kissing.”

“I thought it was a prerequisite.”

“Oh no– no, ” Taehyung emphasized his words. “Fucking is a process, it breaks your shell. Kissing is a choice, more personal. Intimate if you will.”

“Have you kissed Jeon?”

Taehyung burst out laughing again. “What do you think?”

“I don't want to think about it.” Yugyeom deadpanned, a slight burn creeping into his chest which was definitely not something he should entertain in the long run.

“Whatever you think is right. Now, shall we undress?”



Jungkook didn't get much sleep, granted one cannot sleep standing. Well for the most part of the night he did stand outside Taehyung's door, hands curled into fists and ears perked. He could not hear much, but he did hear deep, velvety giggles he could moan right at the sound of; but the other voice in the room had him growling.

He had returned to his room shortly after, no longer sporting any patience for the moans to come in. He knew they would, felt in in his ears. So he tossed and turned in his bed all night, feeling obnoxiously cold at the lack of someone on his bed. The cold that built a home between his ribs, the cold that seeped so deep it fostered a permanent chill. No amount of curling inside his blankets could help his case, and the blue of the night sky only aggravated him further.

The city shone way beneath him, and he remained untouchable.

And extremely lonely.

His melancholy could not stay for much longer, though he had somehow ended up craving it at some point in the night; for dawn broke soon enough. The city decided to sleep for the slightest while, and Jungkook slept with her.

When he woke up he regretted every movement of the night before, each of his nerves screaming in exhaustion. A nagging headache formed again and his eyes were irritated. And yet his head did not stop sprinting around, going off into forbidden dimensions of his chest the moment he woke up. So many noises filled his entire body up like cotton swaps on wounds, except they would not heal. It is moments like these when Jungkook feels another addiction would not essentially be a bad thing.

But he braced himself for the upcoming meeting, forcing himself awake and aware. Couple of advils and some cold eye drops coupled with a good bath had him running and flourishing again, externally at least. It didn't matter that his vision went in and out of focus with every turn of events inside his head going everywhere, he just needed to look good.

His father arrived with all his pomp in show. Several bodyguards and almost double that number of flatterers, flaunting proud. For some reason Jeon Jaebin had wanted to make him feel small again, not that Jungkook wasn't used to it; but it had started to bother him like an itch. Especially when his beautiful husband gingerly walked down the marble stairs in a glimmering robe, hair just washed and still exuding the fragrance of roses.

His robe was dangerously cut low, exposing beautiful tan skin Jungkook had his eyes fixed on, with a light silver chain kissing it softly. Jungkook would love to paint him up in bruises, but a similar thought crossed a lot many minds in the room and he could sense it well, so his eyes turned sharp as the touch of ice as he glared them down. His father gave him a hard look trying to analyze what antagonized him, probably to feed the source even more, but gave up soon after as his son-in-law came forward to kiss his hand. He nodded at Taehyung, who gave him a small smile before sitting down right next to Jungkook. Legs brushing against the other's, hands fumbling for some space on Jungkook's body even when they had the whole couch to themselves. Jungkook felt the pressure on his limbs, at every point Taehyung's skin touched his. Every sense on him turned magnified, words clearer and vision sharper, but more than anything every touch more electric.

“TP-9’s were delivered well. All accounts cleared.” One of the men with his father announced.

“Automatics cleared. Superior quality.”

“Berettas, clean.”

The men continued with the details from the latest deal that Jungkook had managed to land. With every 'clear’ and 'clean’ Jungkook felt a sense of relief flooding in him, pure businessman instinct. Above everything else he loved participating in dealings profitable to his field, no matter his father liked it or not. He's still very proud to be a Jeon, and the little pride seeping in with every successful deal made him a tad more sure of his worth.

He did not miss how the pressure on his skin increased everytime a 'clear’ would sound. He was still upset with Taehyung, but the way his fingers tried maximizing contact like a pat on the shoulder had him almost grinning in euphoria. He wouldn't admit it just yet, but the tiniest gesture of praise and appreciation from the other meant a lot to him, considering how Taehyung had earned his admiration in the little time that they had spent together. He would never hate his appeasement reciprocated.

But with every successful tick the agitation in his father's face grew challengingly. He tried hard keeping a blank face,but the tiniest snarl appearing every time a deal was deemed landed and the hardening of his stare on Jungkook was not lost on him. Neither on Taehyung, who resisted a disdainful scoff. It was one thing being cocky, it was a whole other thing getting envious of his own damn son when he did a job better than he could.

“I don't like your dad.”

Taehyung muttered without a care in the world, leaning closer but looking straight ahead. Jungkook gulped nervously as his father continued to stare him down, hitting him with his eyes. He knew he could not say anything back, his father would catch up instantly. But Taehyung didn't give a shit as to what Jeon would think of him. His palm rested on Jungkook's thighs, grinning a bit with every gun type being ticked off one by one, slightly increasing the pressure feeling proud of his husband.

“You should kill him.”

He whispered in his ears, and Jungkook froze. His eyes went wide as he side-eyed Taehyung, who had the most blank look on his face, like he did not just ask Jungkook to kill his own father but asked him what he'd take for breakfast instead.

The snarl in Jaebin’s face was now unmistakably and permanently present, condescending glare boring into him. And Jungkook really did consider what Taehyung had just said.

“I killed mine.It was fun.”

Taehyung looked at him with a little smirk on his face and eyes narrowed down dangerously. Jungkook couldn't look away, wouldn't, not when Taehyung locks eyes with him. The alcohol in them burns his headache away, and the playful sincerety reflects on his own. He didn't say a word, but clear disbelief was etched on his face, more like a dangerously surprised look, and Taehyung grinned at that.

“I'm just kidding.”

Of course . Jungkook softly sighed.

“Or am I?”

Taehyung grinned again, then tore his gaze away from him, not bothering to wait for an answer. His grin never left him, and Jungkook's dumbstruck gaze never reached him.

“Pederson self loading rifles thirty five pieces. All clear. The deal has been the most transparent one in recent times.” The man concluded with a little smile in Jungkook's direction, which soon vanished when he turned to Jeon Jaebin.

Jungkook cleared his throat trying to look confident, but sweat covered his palms. The glares of everyone present in the room had him crouching into himself, but the fingers tracing circles on his thighs restrained him from doing so.

This little gesture, this tiny reassurance that he had been looking for his entire life.

Jungkook really wanted to take Taehyung's hands in his own and thank him, plant small kisses of gratitude all over his fingers. But that'd have to wait.

He looked at Jaebin, and instantly looked down. Tried to concentrate on literally anything else, and the fingers on his thighs felt like a blessing of the heavens.

Jaebin was smiling .

A smile not of pride or regard, a smile made to kill. So very violently twisted and reaching nowhere close to his eyes, so uncaring and cold that Jungkook could no longer look at it for more than milliseconds. It was worse than everything else, oh he'd take anything else rather than that. Jungkook felt his heart stop, though the beating of it reached his ears alright. At that moment he felt like the most disobedient, vile child; an abomination that somehow made a surge of guilt flow through him rapidly, his mind no longer racing but reaching a conclusion, a very, very bad conclusion.

Taehyung gripped his thigh, hard; and Jungkook felt saved.

Reassurance, again. He wasn't terrible. He wasn't a devil. He was worth it. He should definitely kill him .

“He's learning.” His father said, voice laced with such fragile disdain Jungkook could break it by merely listening to it hard enough.

“Taehyung is a good influence, I gather.” His father eyed Taehyung with the same smile on his face. Jungkook didn't know if he should deny or accept the fact, so he looked at Taehyung for an answer.

And boy, he froze again.

Taehyung was smiling as well, reflecting Jaebin's from corner to corner. His sharp features weren't helping; even when Taehyung retained all his out worldly beauty, he looked scarier than ever.

A level of coldness surpassing Jaebin's by a fucking mile.

Jungkook decided he did not like this particular smile on his face. He had a lot many, and Jungkook had actively taken time out to analyze a lot of them, and only one smile did not entice him; this cold, calculating, inhuman smile. Something only suiting a guy who’d killed his father.

“You could say that.”

The disdain in Taehyung's voice wasn't fragile. It was clear, present, demanding . Jungkook trembled a little in excitement when he realized how defensive Taehyung was being, for him. He was being scary for him, to defend him; and it made his heart soar.

Oh his heart had taken a lot in the span of mere minutes.

“Sir, shall we discuss the problems with one of your accountants?”

One of the guards spoke up, cutting the tension in the room with his sharp voice. Jungkook heaved a sigh, eyes finally darting around the room freely with the abscence of the glares on him.

“Hm. Bring him in.” Jaebin said looking away from his son’s direction.

“What's this about?” Jungkook asked, finally finding his voice, and arrogance back.

“Same old embezzlement. Trickery behind my back, son. ” Jaebin isolated the last word, taunting him with it. Taehyung's grip softened on his thigh.

A muffled cry caught Jungkook's attention, as a man was dragged into the room from where he did not know, did not care. Two men had locked his arms in place, restraining his movements that struck his unwillingness to comply weakly. Restrained chaos, satisfying to look at in a way.

Jaebin stilled more, so did Jungkook and Taehyung. It was a gesture, a depiction that made the difference in their situations to the man bound prominent, loud , daunting. They controlled his actions, without lifting a finger, without moving an eye; while the man could beat around all he wanted but not touch a hair on them.

“Now, now. Don't fret.” Jaebin said with mock concern in his voice, the frolic of it decipherable by a child. But a panicked man would hold on to absolutely anything , and just as Jungkook thought the man calmed down slightly, face contorted in a prayer.

Jungkook could tell he was a good looking man, if not for the tears and snot glistening disgustingly on his face. He looked like he was in his early thirties, a certain hardness evident on his features none of which helped his situation at the moment. He saw Jaebin snarl at the man, but his eyes retained a predatory glint. After all he was looking at the man who had cost him a good deal, and his superiority over his son.

“I heard you took my money?” Jaebin asked, voice clear and unaffected.

That must take some effort to master.

The man whimpered. “–”

“Don't try to tell me you didn't. You sold some of my shit without my knowledge, hm? Didn't you, Jinho?”

'Jinho’ choked on a sob. “I'm sorry...please, fuck I'm sorry…”

“Who told you that you could?”

Jinho fell to his knees, his arms still hoisted up by the two mobsters. “Forgive me Jeon, please, pl-please I...I messed up I'm-”

Jaebin looked amused as he looked at the datasheet given to him by one of his men.

“Tch,” he sighed. “This is pathetic. Whoever told you you'd make a good businessman was clearly lying, Jinho. Such a waste of space.”

He gestured for a man to bring the datasheet to Jungkook. The man politely bowed as he handed it over, and Taehyung immediately, almost sat himself on Jungkook's lap to look over the sheets.

“Seven submachines, fourteen automatics and five rifles. Twenty three handguns. Kimber Classics. Wow I heard that one is expensive as hell.” Taehyung muttered in wonder.

“It is.” Jungkook hissed as he looked at the man, trying hard not to punch him to death.

“Do you see what measly price he sold it for?” Jaebin asked amused, shaking his head right after.

“Twenty fucking bitcoins. Twenty bitcoins for those limited edition gorgeous, gorgeous Kimbers!” Jungkook growled, eyes already killing the person on the ground who had now his head down in shame and fear. Almost submitting to his fate, acknowledging how much he deserves what is to come.

Taehyung rubbed Jungkook's back, and Jungkook focused on the pressure points to calm himself down. He was fuming, but apparently Taehyung had his ways with him.

So fucking domestic.

“That's sad really. You were a good lad.” Jaebin said conclusively, and the men holding Jinho took take as a sign. Jinho was brought up on his feet again, and pushed towards the centre table.

“Please no... forgive me Sir Jeon, please please...I was a fool please Sir!”

“Self awareness is a good thing. You know what to tell them when you arrive at hell.” Jaebin smiled at him.

“No no, no !” Jinho yelled. “I have a wife Sir please don't–”

“That's pretty sad. I'd have to ask Park to take care of her then.”

Jinho’s eyes widened. “No! No you wouldn't dare!”

“Oh, would I not?” Jaebin said, his voice lower as he leaned over the man.

“Turns out I can do whatever the hell I want to.”

Jinho let out a sob, a prayer to be saved. A prayer no God could hear. For in that living room, at that moment, his Gods were merciless.

Jungkook felt like a God as Jinho was stripped down. He felt an uncomfortable, sick feeling brewing inside him as little cuts were made on both sides of Jinho's lips. Taehyung beside him had gone still, not really paying attention to him anymore but on the dirty scene unfolding.

Ever since he could remember Jungkook had loved red, blood red. His father had pulled out the guts of a man in front of him when he was seven. “ Watch ,” he had demanded. “Do not look away.”

Jungkook had not. It was etched clear into his brain, how ugly the insides of humans actually were. The stuff looked mushy, something he thought he could mould into more beautiful things. But they retracted slowly like slinkies, gushing in and out with every movement the man’s body made, courtesy his father. They were painted in a pretty crimson, but he did not like it on them. There was a hell lot of blood on him as well, his father had always been the messy butcher, but the crimson on him looked good enough.

He had not realized then how his breathing got heavy, or how intently he looked. Crimson smeared substances were all over his tiny body, and he had not looked away. His pupils were dilated, his heart pumping, and a pressure point somewhere in him had opened up.

He wanted to run away. From not the scene before him, but something from within him.

And of course Jaebin thought he was a wuss.

Jaebin had looked at the heaving seven year old and made an inhuman growl. He had yelled at him for being afraid . Jungkook had felt numb. Was it really fear he felt? He didn't quite know. But Jaebin had dismissed him as a 'weak son of a bitch’ and left him with the dead body for the entire night. The red blood pouring out relentlessly had soaked his entire body, the slimy things he just could not like were touching him.

And yet Jungkook had stared at the body for the entire night.

He had not screamed like his father thought he would. He had not begged to be let open.

Jaebin thought he had simply frozen.

But a twenty three year old Jungkook had known how far from fear he felt that day.

He wasn't scared, he was–

A loud slap resounded in the room. Jaebin decided he would be delivering the first slap to Jinho's cut face, and by the sound of it, Jungkook wouldn't be surprised if Jinho lost his hearing. The cut on his face widened, pouring blood out. Beautiful red blood.

The other men took their turns, one by one. And with each slap Jinho's jaw cracked open inch by inch. His eyes no longer produced tears, his eyes rolled back far into his head. All of the red things poured down his neck, and Jungkook's eyes froze on it again.

His chest thumped, almost convulating his ribcage, bit by bit Jungkook lost his breath, and a nasty guilt settled in his stomach along with the disgusting warmth that was so, so wrong.

Oh how close he was to being afraid, but yet far from it.

He knew Jaebin had scoffed at him. Joked about his face with his men and laughed at his heaving chest. But he heard no more, he felt no more, only stuck his eyes to the split jaw and the blood that poured out rapidly, painting all of Jinho's body red.

But then he felt fingers on his thigh, rubbing, moving up and down, brusquely touching his member making him shiver again.

“Blood turns you on, doesn't it?”

He felt soft breath on his earlobes, and vibrations that were words. Slowly penetrating his eardrums and instantly calming him down.

Finally someone fucking understands.

“You intrigue me, Jungkook.” Taehyung whispered again. “So, so much.”

The ordeal on Jinho ended soon after, his lower jaw now detached from his face, a muscle he could identify as a tongue swimming in a pool of blood. The snickering and giggling ended too, and Jungkook could feel members retreat, the pressure on the couch decreasing.

Jaebin fixed his suit, said something along the lines of 'clean up the mess’, and when Jungkook didn't reply Taehyung took the lead and assured him he will.

Jaebin walked out with his army of men. Jungkook listened to the familiar ding of the elevator, and when he realized he was now in the security of his penthouse only with another living soul, he let out a deep breath.

“Your meetings are boring”, Taehyung spoke as he poked Jinho's dead body with his sandals. “And so nasty as well.”

“Business meetings aren't supposed to be interesting, Tae.”

Taehyung looked up at him surprised. Then let out a small giggle.

“I like it. Tae. Sounds good from you.”

Jungkook smiled back at him, and for the first time since they had known each other, a normal conversation happened.

The elevator dinged again, and in came Yugyeom with a bunch of other officers.

Jungkook's eyes hardened at the sight of him, and he was about to snap, but he felt hands on his own.

“Relax. He's here to clean up the mess.”

Yugyeom looked at the couple and smiled. Smiled until he saw the intertwined hands. Looked away instantly.

“You learn quick, Yugyeom,” Taehyung looked at him and gave him a meaningful smile, to which he only nodded and stared at him.

The forensic team was quick on it's feet, dragging the body up a stretcher and proceeding to clean up the blood at Yugyeom's directions.

“I thought he stayed the night?” Jungkook asked, a snarl and a hard look on his face.

“Had to go back. It's hard in his job.”


Jungkook said, but somehow felt relief flooding within him, making him smile a bit.

“I like the gun collections though. Can you get me some Caniks?” Taehyung asked.

Jungkook's eyes widened. “You like Caniks too?”

“Well,” Taehyung giggled. “ Too means a lot of things. Do you like them? Or maybe Jimin does?”

“Nah it's me. I like Caniks. They feel more good at my hands. It kind of lacks the seriousness of firearms while still being a vicious bitch.”

“True. I like how you think, Jeon.”

“I guess it's a good thing.”

“Of course. Anyway, get me a nice, beautiful handgun will you? Namjoon always got them for me, and always from your stupid father obviously. He'd have our necks if we dealt with anybody else you know.”

“Hey, that's my father you're talking about.”

“I know. And I hate him. So I want to buy guns from you , Jungkook. From Jeon Jungkook, not his daddy.”

Jungkook looked at him with amusement. “You are something.”

“You haven't seen nothing yet.”

“Is that so? How about you show me your ways?”

“I can. But you'd have to come with me to my workplace. Tell me Jeon, would you like to see how I work?”

The scraping on the floor numbed his ears, but the question registered right. The smell of disinfectants struck his senses hard, but he knew the answer in himself.



Getting high on speed is both a bane and a bliss. And as for the self proclaimed Duke of addicts Jungkook could feel his nerves acting up with every decibel of the roaring car, in a good way. Exhilarating as it was, the eyes roaming on his body made him self conscious in a way; and for the first time Jungkook realized there was an odd thrill about letting it wild without losing control. He could indulge in the most depraved circle without the guilt, still feeling like a mature, responsible person of the society.

Taehyung didn't look as euphoric about the speed as Jungkook, but the grin of amusement never left his face. He loved how the tinge of innocence made everything twice as much amusing. Jungkook looked like he was about to sing his lungs out, but at the same time suppressed his entire excitement into a smile, and Taehyung liked every bit of it. A bit too much, actually.

The traffic blurred by in shades of reds and blues, and Jungkook's eyes seemed to absorb them all. The tentative chill that surrounded Gangnam-gu did induce a frisson in Taehyung, now more so as Jungkook reflected back the chills right at him. He was going to see him work for the first time, how morbidly exciting it sounded in his head. His excitement confused himself though– this rush of trying to impress his husband he presumably wanted to drag down shouldn't be present. Taehyung had always been so very sure of his proclivities and the repurcussions of them on himself, but for the first time in a long while had the frisson presented itself, like he was staring at a roller coaster ride with the imminent prospect of riding it. His nerves felt afresh at the tingles of adrenaline through them, but Taehyung tried to refuse it had anything to do with Jungkook.

Because at the end of it all, it was Taehyung's world; and he could be as hypocritical as he wanted to, bask in it even. And Jungkook could probably be the king of the chessboard, yet he'd still only be a part of the game, a game designed for Taehyung.

Taehyung blurred out the thought of it all. Distraction was nothing short of the plague in his line of work, and now he had someone waiting to be milked, as repulsive as the phrase may sound, he could not be thinking about sucking Jungkook's dick. Every gamble demands his undivided attention, every move a touch of the divine; the prospects of which are achieved only through a sombre state of mind. He looked away from the starry-eyed man beside him, it was only essential he keeps his cool if Jungkook was indeed to be impressed enough to off his father for him.

Wouldn't that be a lovely thing.

Because Taehyung knew. He could see it well.

Behind those stars in his eyes was something so dangerously predatory it made Taehyung hard just thinking about it.

An anomaly, a stigma.

Jeon Jungkook could destroy him in seconds with the kind of fire that he held behind those doe eyes, and oh did Taehyung want to play with it.

And so the exhilaration in his veins that almost exhausted him the entire week after his marriage wasn't exactly not expected. Taehyung had an affinity for taming wild beasts, and Jungkook fed his interests well.

Needless to say Taehyung could not help getting distracted.

The car screeched to a halt, the sound of it offsetting Jungkook into believing in demons; but as he looked around for any signs of an ominous accident he found they were in front of a warehouse. He didn't have to be told, this was where the supposed meeting was to be held.

Taehyung didn't say anything as he got out of the car, slamming the door behind. Jungkook did the same, a little slow in his movements as he took in the chilly autumn air of the late evening. The cold instantly wrapped him in a hold, and when Taehyung offered him a cigarette he gladly took it.

“Didn't know you smoked.” He looked at Taehyung, who seemed to be admiring the glowing end of his own stick before carefully holding it in his mouth.

“Naturally I don't. But nerves Jungkook, sometimes they demand these.” He replied, inhaling slowly as the slight intoxication made it's way straight into his eyes. Alcoholic. Addictive.

“You're nervous?”

“Sure. Every trade is a performance. Your stomach feels queasy and everything.”

Jungkook took a good look at the other. The natural fluidity and frolic on his face was gone, a stern look hovered over him like a sword. This was another side to the man who had him enraptured since the first day, and Jungkook concluded it suited him so fucking well, the almost mature airs surrounding him, that something uncanny inside his heart just ripped open—

“Let's go inside. And,” Taehyung turned to look at him, expression stern. “No matter what, stay close to me.”

Jungkook simply nodded, and walked inside.


Jungkook took in the surroundings, and he was very amazed to say the least. From the looks of the outside he had expected some dreary den with someone tied to a chair with big goons guarding him. Well that was to be expected as far as his memory of warehouses go. But one look at his surroundings and Jungkook just knew how everything just screamed Taehyung. There were dimmed flickering lights handing, not to induce fear but liberating instead. Reds, blues, and greens of the lights could very well be made to resemble a nightclub, and the place was more or less so. There were a number of people and lots of tables, each having some kind of card game. He could spot Hoseok at a distance looking bored, waiting as though. Beer bottles plagued the area, and what seemed like the central table sported two girls with vodka shots placed diligently all over their body. Their flexible bodies twisted and turned, all the while maintaining the balance of the shots,and the men surrounding the table cheered in applause. Jungkook found himself enjoying the tricks as well, and the girls winked at him as Taehyung ushered him towards the table.

The man sitting on the head of the table threw money at the women, and hollered in a loud voice that jiggled his evident double chin. He looked like the boss person, and he made it clear; occasionally flaunting his gold chains, making them twirl around his thick neck in one swift motion. He sat on a heavy chair while everybody else stood, and it was clear he was some big shot by the way he was ordering around spilling profanities.

Though every ounce of his pomp seemed to disappear the moment he saw Taehyung.

And Jungkook saw it the instant it happened, the way Taehyung simply… changed .

Right up to the edge of the table Taehyung held his pensive, concerned look that Jungkook had begun to like so much. But right when the man turned to look at him, right when the man had his eyes wide in an unknown expression, right when he visibly gulped , Taehyung smiled.

The same smile he had given to his father.

The one that only felt like bad news to Jungkook.

But to add to that lethal smile of his was the glint , the maniacal glint that felt almost cannibal , and Jungkook instinctively wanted to squirm away. Jungkook didn't know how the man still held his gaze, for he couldn't. Something akin to fear settled in his stomach again, but Jungkook just knew he wasn't afraid; it was just the primal response to get away, move , but not fear.

Taehyung's eyes momentarily softened as he looked at Jungkook. Honestly such a distraction.

“Clear the table, will you, my lovelies?” Taehyung said to the ladies, voice smooth and almost flirty; too confident for a man who had been smoking minutes prior just to calm his nerves.

The surrounding men had already cleared the area, some of them scrambling to get a chair. Taehyung prompted them to bring a comfortable one, and looked back at the ladies.

“Long time no see, Kim.” One of them said, giggling to herself.

“Ah– my sassy angel. How have I missed you!” Taehyung exclaimed cheerfully, and pulled the girl into a hug.

Jungkook felt the familiar burning inside his chest as he glared at the duo, but decided to ignore it. For now.

The other more petite girl made grabby hands at him, and Jungkook scoffed. Taehyung kissed her on the cheeks before asking them about stuff Jungkook was pretty sure he didn't give a shit about. But the girls’ hands lingered on his man for a tad longer, as one of them suggestively whispered something in his ear. Taehyung instantly turned to look at Jungkook, who was still glaring. He giggled , and Jungkook could melt, would have if not for the maniacal glint that never left his eyes. The girls were quick enough to clear up the table , and the chairs had been brought. Jungkook felt oddly relieved for some reason, and almost fell back on the chair which seemed to swallow him down whole. The chairs were indeed comfortable.

Taehyung sat beside him, his knees touching Jungkook's. He loved how electrifying it felt, how quickened his senses were.

You aren't supposed to be here.” The main opposite to them said, his eyes still widened and face constricken like his bowels were giving away, maybe they were.

“And you shouldn't be alive but here we are, Kihyun.” Taehyung said, adjusting his shirt that tended to show a bit too much of his collarbones. He didn't want to waste his assets on fat fucks.

“Your brother sent you? Where is he anyway? Ran away like the coward he is?”

Jungkook felt Taehyung tense beside him. The glint in his eyes only grew stronger, but he did not move one unnecessary muscle. Jungkook hesitantly placed a hand on his thigh, inexperienced in this stuff. Taehyung did not seem to mind, so he rested it.

“He's working like he should be. What about you? Oh sorry,” Taehyung smirked. “It's not like you have a business to run anymore.”

The man on the other side growled , his fists clenching at the edge of the table. The drink in his hand broke to smithereens, and Taehyung laughed out loud.

“Hey Kihyun,” Taehyung said, somehow stifling his laughter. “Do you– haha do you have anything on you at all? Can you pay up?”

Kihyun gritted his teeth in anger, but at the same time the shock and fear of everything settled perfectly on his face.

“I ain't paying shit, God damnit! I– I don't need to! There's nothing I need protection from d’you hear me?”

“Oh Kihyun, you were so much fun when you actually had coins. Crazy isn't it?” Taehyung said, voice lowering. “You still have shit to blow on wine and whores though.”

“I'll plough your fucking ass Kim! You can't take anything I'm not giving you. Whatcha gonna do, huh?” The man leaned in, smirking showing teeth obviously fake.

“Threaten me? You and your dumb brother, eh? Force me to give up my money? Well, you can't do shit!”

Jungkook looked at Taehyung. His smile was gone, but the air of dominance didn't waver a bit.

“Guess why?” Kihyun smiled wide. “I've got police protection!”

“...Oh. Is that so?” Taehyung asked. Jungkook could make out a sharp boredom in his voice, but he waited for the events to unfold.

“Can confirm.” A familiar voice slid in. Hoseok stood there leaning against the wall, arms crossed across his chest. Jungkook looked at him in disbelief, and so did Taehyung; but for the most part there was a wide difference between the two which made Hoseok almost chuckle.

“Yes. I'm here to see to effect that Choi Kihyun isn't faced with harm at the face of extortion.”

Taehyung huffed in fabricated annoyance. Fabricated, Jungkook knew for sure, for even from a distance he could make out the small grin of amusement on Hoseok's face.

“That's dirty, Kihyun.” Taehyung said, murderous glint slowly subsiding and more exhaustion evident.

“You gotta do what you gotta do to survive.”

“So nothing from you this month.” Taehyung rubbed his temples. “What a pain.”

“Oh don't be like that,” Kihyun grinned patronizingly. Somehow Jungkook didn't like it one bit.

Kihyun yelled at someone. “Hey, get some more beer in here!”

He relaxed into his seat, the chair creaking at his weight. He sighed with contentment, seemed way too happy about the situation.

“I guess I lost us a deal.” Taehyung whispered to Jungkook, frowning. Jungkook wanted to kiss him hard, but he didn't know whether Taehyung would appreciate it given the situation.

“Hey, it's alright. We all have bad days.” Jungkook reassured him instead, squeezing his thighs.

Taehyung stared at him for a long moment. It was one of those moments where something somewhere in the brain just clicks, just fits right. One of those stupid moments that seem harmless, but can be lethal in more ways than one. Those moments that cloud senses and sets everything inside on fire, moments one cannot ignore because nothing else exists at it's wake.

Taehyung hates moments like these.

He quickly looked away. Those fucking


“Fuck this shit. I wanna gamble. Kihyun you up?” Taehyung almost yelled in exasperation.

“Any fucking time.” Kihyun grinned again. “Can't say no to that. Dangerous shit but oh well– once you're in there's no out for you.”

The last sentence Kihyun said looking at Jungkook, like he was talking to some old friend, despite having acknowledged his existence right about then. He indeed was ecstatic.

“I thought you were broke?” Jungkook asked, speaking for the first time.

“Not for some good rounds, no. Taehyung here always makes the bets interesting.” He said, eyeing Taehyung with what could only be seen as adoration in his eyes.

He really was excited, huh…

How badly did Jungkook want to wipe that shit eating grin right off his face.

Beside him Hoseok chuckled softly, and Jungkook almost jumped at the proximity. Hoseok immediately cleared his throat, and nodded at his direction.

“So, Kim? How's it gonna be?”

Taehyung seemed to think for a moment.

“I learned this new card game,” he slowly began. “Quite intriguing.”

Well it was a psychology experiment but Kihyun did not need to know that.

Taehyung smirked. His sombre expression giving way to something sinister, but well hidden. He motioned for a young boy to come his way, and whispered something in his ear. The young boy smiled instantly, nodding his head as he went off.

“New game? Tell me the rules.”

“Oh don't worry about it. It's quite simple actually, you'll get it in no time.”

The boy came back with two deck of cards, one red and the other blue. He placed them gingerly on the table, almost reverently , and stepped back. Jungkook did not miss the sparkle in his eyes. The anticipation. Some sick lust perhaps.

Taehyung ruffled his hair and smiled, a soft, beautiful smile that crinkled up his face in all the right areas. Jungkook was appalled at the number of ways a man could make his way into his heart and somewhere with just mere undulations of lips and eyes, but he knew he loved this one. Caring and affectionate, yet so full of charm. Jungkook realized with just a little hesitation that he wanted his hair ruffled like the boy did. He wanted to be good.

So many people could touch his warmth… I'm his fucking husband and yet—

“So here we have two decks as everyone can see, I suppose,” Taehyung announced, sharp as a host. “Every card on each deck has an amount assigned to it, the catch is– the amount can be either positive or negative. We gain the positive amount, lose the negative amount. Just like that.”

“That's no game.” Kihyun snarled.

“No. Sheer luck. Sheer thrill. We don't gamble to fucking play, Kihyun.” Taehyung leaned forward.

“We gamble for the thrill. And I like to cut to the chase.”

Kihyun looked at the decks for a moment.

“How do I know you don't know which card has what amount on it?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Because I'm not Namjoon. Permutation, combinations are his cross to bear. If you really think I have genuinely memorised the infinite number of ways how these cards could be arranged, you're not paying attention.”

“Why are there two decks though?”

“That's a good question.” Taehyung smirked. “You see I want to test something. An experiment, if you will. But please do not be worried about that. It's just two decks instead of one, and remember, you can pull literally any card from any deck!”


“Yes! There's no rule stating you have to stick to one deck or anything. Just pick out anything. But remember, negative amount is what you'd need to pay, and positive amount is what you win.”

Kihyun smiled as he pulled the decks closer to him. “Seems good. Simple like how I like it. Shall we start?”

“Whenever you are ready”

Kihyun shuffled the cards on both the blue and the red decks, taking his time, really peeking in on some of the cards. Taehyung let him, surprisingly.

“So by work you mean wasting money?” Jungkook asked softly in his ear, only meant for Taehyung to hear. Private . Intimate.

“Don't worry bun. My work and play go hand in hand.” Taehyung whispered back, and to the people around them they looked awfully domestic for real.

Bun , huh?”

“You love it.”

Jungkook sighed softly, breath fanning on Taehyung. “I guess I do. Really.”

“Jimin probably likes it too, doesn't he?”

Taehyung had not intended to sound bitter , and the fact that he did surprised himself. It was subtle, but it was present. The tinge of whine, the annoyance, the ungulpable aftertaste.

Taehyung prayed for it, but unfortunately that bitterness was not lost on Jungkook, who smirked shamelessly.

“He does I'm sure.” Jungkook said with glee , not even trying to hide his happiness at Taehyung's expense.

“But I wouldn't know.” He said, giggling a bit as he did. The vibrations hit Taehyung somewhere he couldn't pinpoint.

Focus, goddamn it!

Kihyun cleared his throat as he put the two decks side by side. “You go first.”

“Sure.” Taehyung said. He mechanically reached for the blue deck and pulled the card on top.

“Plus five thousand won. We love a positive start.” Taehyung smiled. Someone in the crowd had already placed cameras around them, and a small digital scoreboard had been set up. Jungkook was amazed at how pre-meditated everything was; definitely something Taehyung did on a regular basis.

“Lame but okay.” Kihyun laughed out, and reached out for a red card.

“Plus...six hundred thousand won? What's the upper limit for this?” Kihyun said, eyes widening in surprise.

“Higher than you can imagine. That is true for the other end too. Anyway,” Taehyung reached for a red card. “My turn.”

“Plus eighty thousand. You sure are winning.”

Kihyun pulled out a blue card. “Minus ten thousand.”

“Plus one hundred thousand.”

Swipe. Turn. Grin.

Swipe. Turn. Grimace.

As the game went on the atmosphere became heated with anticipation. Each sound of the swipe resonated, each turn felt too slow, and each announcement induced different emotions, ending all excitement only to foster new ones.

And yet amidst all the prompt trading, Jungkook noticed a pattern.

The blue cards carried small amounts, negative or positive. Less profits but lesser losses. While the red cards were dangerously high stakes, most of the cards dealing in millions. Every time a red card was pulled Jungkook could feel everybody's breath hitch, including his own. He was not even the one gambling, yet the thrill of it had his head going numb. He could clearly see why Taehyung sported madness in his eyes. It was ridiculous, nothing short of madness, risking millions at the swipe of a card. And yet to Jungkook it felt oddly normal, oddly moral, oddly logical.

“Plus five million. God I'm feeling lucky right now. I lost two millions in the last round.” Kihyun sighed in relief, ignoring his sweaty palms. He's won, he's won so it does not matter.

“Hm. I'll go.” Taehyung reached out for a card.

Blue? Red?


“Fifty thousand won.”

The whole crowd collectively clicked their tongue. Disappointing, after such crazy amounts.

But Jungkook didn't. Neither did Hoseok beside him. Both of them could see right through the strategy, Taehyung wasn't gambling at all.

The blue cards had lesser amounts, but ensured a positive result. The end product would always be a profit. Jungkook had always been an ace at probability, had to be in his line of work. And the positive in the blue deck was staggeringly high, unfortunately for Kihyun he had abandoned the blue deck a long time ago, only pulling off red cards as they promised high amounts.

Kihyun’s hands were sweating, he was visibly squirming in his seat, his fingers were involuntarily moving. Instincts.

“He's nervous.” Jungkook whispered softly.

“Conflicted,” Taehyung said back while Kihyun rubbed his hands together.

“His instincts are warning him of danger. His gut feeling wants him to avoid the red deck. But his head clearly doesn't want to.”

“I thought it was a good thing.” Jungkook crossed his legs as he stealthily pronounced the words through his teeth. “Using your head in a game.”

“Only if it listens to your gut. When your head and body do not work together you know you should seek help.”

“So you're telling me…”

“He is mentally unstable. Wouldn't be surprising for someone who's got his head so far up his ass.”

Kihyun turned the red card.

“Plus….fifty million!” He screamed, eyes widened at mouth squeezing into a huge grin. It was almost adorable, the childish expression at the appeal of 'winning.’ Jungkook always felt winning was overrated.

“Turns out his head is in the right place after all.” Jungkook said, a playful mockery evident in his voice.

“Oh honey , the game isn't over yet. Nor is his conflict. Let's just say I'm fuelling it.”

“You do know the cards, don't you?”

“That's ridiculous, Jungkook.” Taehyung said, but his smirk never left. “That's too much work.”

“Your turn Kim.” Kihyun barked at the whispering couple.

“Oh my, apologies. I got carried away.”

Taehyung pulled up a red card.

“Minus… two hundred million.”

The crowd audibly gasped, a deafening silence following right after as even Kihyun gulped.

“C’mon. Nobody died here. Cheer up.” Taehyung chirped, extremely out of place for the situation he's in. The crowd somehow relaxed.

“You know I'm not giving you a dime if you lose.” Jungkook said in his ear.

“Don't worry, baby .” Taehyung looked at him and smiled. “I have my ways.”

Jungkook just knew he'd give him anything he wished for, right at that moment.

Kihyun pulled a red, again.

“Minus fifty million.”

Taehyung pulled a blue, again.

“Plus three hundred thousand won.”

Swipe. Turn. Grimace.

Swipe. Turn. Grimace.

Swipe. Turn…. Grimace.

“Minus three million.”

“Oops, Kihyun. There are not many cards left. Would you like to stop?” Taehyung asked, so politely it even irked Jungkook.

“And lose five millions to you? The cards are here and I'll fucking play! I know I can turn this around.”

“As you wish. I'll pull the blue card, just to make things easier then.”

Taehyung pulled. “Minus five thousand. You go.”

Kihyun was sweating buckets. His hands were actively revolting against movement, and yet he did not stop. He pulled a card.

“Plus fifty million.”

Beautiful. That's how Jungkook would describe the transformations in his expression.

Taehyung pulled the next card. “Plus… one hundred million.”


“A hundred million. Plus. As of now you owe me some,” Taehyung looked at the scoreboard. “Ah, thirty five million. You have fifty.”

“The game is not over yet.”

“Sure. Your turn.”

There were three cards left. And Kihyun decided to pull the middle card.

“Plus twenty million.”

“Alright then,” Taehyung said. “The card of destiny huh.”

He pulled the card on top. And Jungkook noticed, oh how could he miss it, the shaking of his hand, so much in contrast to the confident nonchalance in his voice.

Jungkook gripped his thigh hard, almost shaking in anticipation himself. And then he turned the card.

“Four hundred million… plus.”

The crowd went frenzy in an uproar. And Kihyun paled so dramatically Jungkook made his mind to ask for the footage later.

“Last card. Pull it Kihyun. It may change your destiny.”

Kihyun hoped for it. Prayed for it. But it didn't.

“Plus thirty five millions.”

Didn't matter now.

If only he had not pulled out the second card….

“So Kihyun, now you owe me some two hundred and thirty five millions.” Taehyung said as a matter of fact, and then turned to Hoseok.

“Does your protection involve money lost in gambling?”

Hoseok looked at Kihyun's pale features for a minute, sympathetically, but his eyes were smiling.

“No. It doesn't.”

“So I can collect my money in whichever way I see fit and you wouldn't intervene?”

“I would not.”

“Good.” Taehyung turned to Kihyun, madness lacing his eyes, maniacal grin tearing him apart.

“Funny how your protection fees was less than half the amount you'd be paying now.”

“No….no! It couldn't”

“It's been done Kihyun. You messed with Namjoon. First mistake.”

“Please...please no..”

“And then you don't pay up your shit. Second mistake.”

“Kim...Kim please… I'd do anything please…”

“And then you thought it'd be a good idea to gamble against me. You really are a headass.”

“God no...Kim! Give me another chance… o-one more gamble...what do you say? C'mon!”

“And why should I listen to you?”

“Because I don't have shit damn it! Just one more time fuck! Please Taehyung, I beg you… I'll win please... please just once!”

“Do you know what you're getting into? Another mistake is all that this is, Kihyun. You understand that?”

“I have no choice! Please, please I'll do anything…”

Taehyung let his stern aura fall. His eyes squinted, and his lips curled up in a huge smile. The most vile smile his pretty features could conjure.

“Alright then. One more gamble it is. Bring the guilotuin.”

“The what now!?” Jungkook yelled in disbelief, while Kihyun almost fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face.

“You'll see.”


The guilotuin was literally a guilotuin, a miniature version that is. Could not sever heads but limbs, probably. The prospects of everything associated with the small instrument with two blades on either side of the pulley had Jungkook’s hair stand on edge. Whatever hell Taehyung was trying to do was disastrous, he didn't need his nerves to tell him.

“Alright, Kihyun. Let's gamble for real this time.”

Taehyung sounded hysterical, with his pupils dilated in some sick anticipation. He could not even pull off his signature smile; his head was utterly in some other dimension which knew no limitations, no hesitation, only a darned frisson better than sex. Jungkook could clearly see what he was planning, and God forbid he allowed that.

“Taehyung, no.”

Taehyung did not seem to hear him, or if he did he was ignored. Kihyun was full on bawling at this point, every inch of his body at the mercy of the man hovering over him, looking down on him like he was some lesser being. He feeled less , his dignity and humanity stripping away piece by piece. If anything he was a sack of meat and bones at that point, and that was the only thing he could gamble away.

Tae , look at me.”

Jungkook pulled at his arm and Taehyung was forced to tear hi gaze away from the crumbling human beneath him. He made an inhuman growl at that, something that shook Jungkook at his heart but he would not let it show. And Taehyung was too out of it to realize.

“Whatever you are planning, don't do it.”

His voice was stern and authorative, but even so, and Taehyung convinced himself it was an illusion, beneath every word was the sweet taste of concern . He had imagined it, of course, he was sure. Why would anybody be concerned for something like him?

Only Namjoon had that right.

Only Namjoon ever cared.

And so Taehyung whisked his arm away, his expression on a plane not parallel to human. Jungkook felt a sharp pain on his chest as he was on the receiving end of that . Fear was evident but the pain more pronounced and loud.

“Don't tell me what to do, Jeon. You don't control me.”

He hissed, and Jungkook did not argue any more. At this point he could not discern the feelings brewing in his stomach. Fear, sadness, pettiness and of course, arousal .

“I'll forgive you all your debt, Kihyun. But do you agree to this final bet?”

Clammy hands and teary eyes. Almost childlike for some reason, but Kihyun was now calm. He had no way out of this. If Taehyung wanted to seriously gamble, he would do it anyway.


“Just to be fair, if you lose, you lose your property. And if I lose, well… my share of the Kim property, everything, would be yours.”


“Isn't that a fair deal?”

“What's the bet?”

Taehyung grinned. A delirious, absolutely insane smile that had no beauty to back it up. Even his devious smile that could kill had Jungkook enamored in a twisted way. But this grin that enlarged his eyes without a hint of a smile in them. Terrifying? Not really. But Jungkook's stomach clenched itself.

“We'll bet our hands. Under this guilotuin.”

Silence ensued in the room as everyone looked at Taehyung in disbelief, trying to concentrate on his next words where they were certain he would dismiss his proposal as a joke.

Alas, he didn't.

“The blades will fall at the same time. Whoever pulls his hand faster would lose.”

Kihyun's mouth gaped open like a fish. His eyes followed through the room, searching for an escape. Was losing a hand worth his property? Was living on the streets worth a hand?

Jungkook gritted his teeth as he harshly grabbed Taehyung's jaw, fingers digging on his cheeks as he pulled him closer. For any other scenario both of them would have been pleasantly surprised at the proximity, but Jungkook did not even notice the mixing of their breaths.

“Stop this right now..”

“Oh,” Taehyung grinned through Jungkook's tight hold. “You wouldn't want a lame husband now huh.”

“This isn't about me.” Jungkook visibly softened, his grip softening too. For some weird fucking reason he wanted to stare at Taehyung's lips for a while longer.

“Exactly Jeon. So stay out of this.” Taehyung mumbled, and pushed Jungkook's hand away from his face.

“Are the cameras ready? We wouldn't want a rematch of this thing.” Hoseok said, checking out the apparatus.

“Shutter speed is on point. We're good to go.”

Hoseok declared and reclaimed his position beside Jungkook. He looked at the man, eyes narrowing into slits.

“Shouldn't you be stopping this?” Jungkook asked.

“Hm? The bet?” Hoseok was way too calm about the whole thing, Jungkook noticed.

“Don't worry about it. He does it all the time.” He said.

All the time!?

Two men forced Kihyun up on his feet, and he staggeringly touched the sharp edge of the blade. It would cut, definitely sever bones.

“Let's do it then.” Taehyung chimed, as he gently placed his hand at the platform beneath the blade…

His left hand.

With his wedding finger on it.

Jungkook could not sit still. He didn't realize when he had stood up and hovered over the instrument like a calculated guard. His whole focus was now shifted to the distance between the blade and the hand. Everything else blurred out.

Kihyun placed his shaky hand on the other end too, and Jungkook did not even take notice. He focused only on the sharp edge, and the beautiful long fingers that he just wouldn't let be scratched.

The little boy from before, way too excited for this sick game came forward. He stretched the wire connecting the blades, with all the force he could conjure.

The faster the better after all.

A sick grin graced his features as he very delicately let the wire 'slip’ carelessly out of his hand…


Kihyun decided he liked his hand better after all.

He pulled away before the blade even started falling, or maybe his instincts did. And this time his body didn't fail them, and for good measure.

Taehyung had already won, and yet Jungkook saw the gap closing, and Taehyung's hand completely still in it's position, not even shaking to move away.

Within miliseconds Jungkook realized what actual 'thrill’ was.

Hearts pumping so fast everything seemed numb, impulses so strong they felt almost supernatural, and the fucking adrenaline…

That fucking rush as Jungkook pulled Taehyung's hand back with such force that the impact of it sent both of them flying backwards in Taehyung's chair. The chair tumbled down and so did Taehyung, Jungkook along with him. He fell on top of Taehyung, who did not seem to register the fall, or the impending bruise of the impact.

Taehyung was numb, each fibre of him dumbed down with an incredible heat. And yet his instincts were sharper than ever before. The cheers and gasps resonated like screams, the light above him shone every intricate detail on him. And more than anything else Jungkook's tight grip on his left hand burned . Taehyung tried to move, but the beautiful numbness wrapped him up like a child. The moment where he felt nothing even when all of his senses heightened, where his soul was enriched and sucked out of yet at the same time. Taehyung lived just to experience that. He traded cards even at the expense of his own life just to chase this incredible rush of adrenaline in his veins. Screw Kihyun's money, screw Namjoon's plan, screw Jungkook's concern. This was his drug, fear. Better than cocaine. Better than sex. Better than anything he could ask for.

His heartbeat synced with another, and that's when he saw Jungkook lying on top of him, breathing heavily down his nape, audibly gasping through the thick air. His breath burned like ice, shivering his joints. Taehyung could feel his blood pumping to his left hand, as Jungkook never let his grip soften for an instant, holding onto it for dear life.

Fuck, he wanted to fuck something right then. While he's all numb and safe.

As if on cue Jungkook placed his lips on his own. For a moment Jungkook did not move, as though treasuring the realness of it all. That it's not been a dream, the whole time since his father announced his wedding. That everything leading up to the point has changed something in both of them for better or for worse. And he tasted it all in Taehyung's mouth. The taste of change.

And then he moved. Violently. Taehyung was too dazed to keep up but Jungkook kept kissing him, tongue deep inside his mouth exploring the realness. It made him feel so complete he felt overwhelmed. All those moments of not getting the soul of a kiss vanished in an instant as Taehyung's mouth just surrendered itself to his ministrations. He did not move, did not kiss back. Just laid there bare, for Jungkook to do whatever he wanted.

And Jungkook just kept sucking on his mouth, feeling ecstatic about the sweet art of kissing that made all his butterflies go haywire. This was the feeling he had been missing in all his kisses lately, and he never wanted to let go. He wanted to devour it all in his mouth, like a predator.

But damn human bodies and their stupid need to breathe, Jungkook had to pull away. Taehyung gasped loudly at the onslaught of air, his need to breathe forgotten somewhere in his high. His breathe pulled him down, and his heart beat even faster at the oxygen again. Almost painfully hard against his ribs.

Jungkook still did not let go of his hand, it was like a permanent tangle of fingers. He suddenly felt his eyes sting at the sight of the fingers, and the ring that he put on one of them. He felt upset, too upset at how easily Taehyung bet it away.

Like he was the only one with a right to his body. It ached him.

Jungkook slowly pulled Taehyung's hand to his lips, and peppered it up with kisses.

Realness. It was all real. Intact and thriving.

Taehyung let him.



The walk back to the car was silent, too intimidating to be awkward. It suited them, suited the situation. Both of them were at a loss of words to say, uncanny emotions brewing in both of their chests. To Taehyung it was all surreal. It had been a very long time since he was confused , and he couldn't say he liked the feeling.

The silence was cut short by Taehyung's phone ringing as soon as they reached the car. Taehyung held it out and let out a sigh at the contact.

“I know. I know I'm sorry.” Taehyung said into the phone. Jungkook could see the distress in his features, and a tinge of... regret?

“He has no dime on him but I made sure we can swipe his property… Joon are you even–”

Taehyung rubbed his temples. So it's Namjoon.

“I know, fuck– Joon you know why… I'm–”

Taehyung let out a shaky breath.

“Fine I'll be there. I'm sorry.”

Taehyung disconnected the call and looked at some other direction. “I'm sorry.” He muttered.

Jungkook did not know what came over him. The intensity of the atmosphere maybe. Maybe his pettiness. Or maybe something else he did not the human heart could ooze out.

He pulled at Taehyung's waist and pushed him against the car, hands caging him on both sides of his waist as he leaned in closer.

“You should be.” He breathed out. While his state of mind was still dazed, he moved further closer, and closer… too close.

“You say I don't control you huh?”

Taehyung remained immensely calm for the tension lingering between them. He grinned a little breathily, Jungkook inhaling his sweet exhale.

“I mean it.”

“You're crazy you know that.” Jungkook nuzzled his nose on his cheeks, lips hovering over his jaw.

“Can't you deal with that, bun?”

“You reek of trouble.”

Taehyung pushed Jungkook's forehead lightly with his own, increasing the distance by a slight measure.

“That's what I am, Kook . You better get used to it because,” Taehyung pushed Jungkook away little by little. “I'm gonna destroy you, Jeon.”

Jungkook found his deep growling incredibly arousing, so much so he was taken aback. The threat sounded more sexy to him then anything else, but when Taehyung grabbed his waist and turned him around slamming him into the car instead, that's when he knew Taehyung was more serious than ever.

His back was pressed against Taehyung's chest as his face faced the dirt on the car roof. Taehyung never raised his voice more than necessary, sometimes he only used his breathe for effect. He fanned his breath against his earlobe, rightly grazing it with his lips.

“Such a beautiful tiny little waist you have there Kook.”

Jungkook had his breathe caught in his throat. The turn of events, the switching of the roles was definitely not what he had been expecting. And the fact that he liked it way too much than he should disturbed him in a way.

“Dad moulded it into shape.”

Taehyung grunted in his ear, exhaling sharply right after, as if taking his scent in to remember it like his bare skin.

“One good thing that fucker did. But one more good reason why you should kill him.”

Taehyung released his hold on him, Jungkook instantly missing it. Anyway the words set right in his ears. He cleared his throat before turning around. Taehyung stood looking smug, arms crossed and everything.

“You're too keen on getting my dad killed.”

“I hate that fucker. So he should be gone.”

“Nothing always goes your way.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure you'd have done it had your sweet Jimin asked it of you.”

Jungkook felt smug. “Is it just me or you sound jealous?”

“Jealous of you or of Jimin?”

His expression hardened. “Why'd you be jealous of me?”

“I don't know,” Taehyung replied. “Jimin's quite cute and everything.” ‘And good at head.’, Taehyung thought.

Jungkook stepped closer again. “Don't.”

Taehyung leaned in as well. “Hm? And who was eating my face off earlier? Jimin deserves better than a cheater.”

Jungkook wanted to wipe the shit eating grin on Taehyung's face, but not with a punch or anything.

“I'm technically married to you. That cannot count as cheating.”

“Oh my,” Taehyung gasped. “So all this time you've been committing adultery! Even before we met!”

“Now that's a little far fetched sweets.”

“Is not,” Taehyung said as a matter of fact. "We were destined to be Jungkook, don't you see? But you had to ruin it.”

Jungkook smiled sheepishly. “Alright then,” he closed in on Taehyung's lips. “How about we fulfill our destiny?”

Taehyung did not pull back, but zeroed in on Jungkook's lips as well.

“I'm not doing that on a car roof.”

“We have a whole penthouse to ourselves you know.”

Taehyung smiled, almost shied away. So did Jungkook.

God this is new.

“Alright then bun. Let's do that.”


The tension in the car was tangible, but somehow playfully fickle. Both of them giggled nervously at the other, hands brushing 'accidentally’ against thighs that litting an obscene fire inside them. Jungkook could hardly contain his nerves, the adrenaline from before still cutting his breath short. Beside him Taehyung laid his head back carelessly, the action so fluid Jungkook couldn't keep his eyes off his now exposed neck. He wanted to feel the dips of those collarbones with his lips.

His sharpening gaze invaded the other's skin, and he returned the look right back at him. The alcohol in his eyes was real , physically there, Jungkook thought. It was hard not getting drunk. And with little hesitation in his heart he acknowledged he definitely was cheating on Jimin.

The thought did not bother him as much as he thought it would. He admired beauty. And alcohol. Both signified his subdued rebel self. And Taehyung carried it all way too conspicuously for him to not be enchanted.

The walk to the penthouse was littered with playful banter, more innuendoes than anything. The little touches built up to form a pit in Jungkook's stomach, the familiar knot growing by the second. He played the moment on repeat, the moment when he pulled Taehyung's hand from the blade, the moment he understood what 'thrill’ could do. A strange amusement filled him up, and he found himself smiling more than he did in his entire time with Jimin.

As for Taehyung, he… didn't know.

This was not a part of his plan, holding hands and giggling like an idiot. Never was.

At the most everything in his body confused him, and for the first time in forever, he liked the confusion.

Feelings are sporadic and spontaneous, he had come to know. He had a goal, no doubt about it, but he definitely can make the journey fun for himself. And for Jungkook as well. That would be a favor.

The elevator ride could have been awkward or unholy, depending on the circumstances. But turned out both Jungkook and Taehyung could be extremely patient. Wasn't a surprise, one lived in a pretense and the other had a whole existence fabricated for him. Wouldn't have made it this far without patience.

The elevator door opened, and Jungkook looked back at Taehyung to give him a huge smile. Taehyung returned the same, reflecting his excitement with his own eyes. They intertwined their fingers, a reflexive move more than anything and let the tension between them grow high as the door swing open. Jungkook had almost jumped at Taehyung, well until—

“Kookie!” Jimin chimed.

Chapter Text

“Lost and found and turned around by the fire in your eyes.”


Jungkook felt the velvety cushions dip at the pressure of his body as Jimin pushed him onto the couch, devouring his mouth hungrily, almost as if to prove a point. Jungkook was surprised at the eagerness, and he forgot Taehyung for the moment as he tried to find a steady balance. Jimin was insatiable, shoving his tongue further and further down into Jungkook's throat. The pace was brutal, and Jimin hardly knew what he was doing.

Taehyung looked at the debauched pair and gently sat himself on the couch, judging their actions. He had every right to, he was the love machine after all.

Jungkook looked at him through unfocused eyes, at first feeling guilty about whatever the hell that was going on, but the look on the other's face took him by surprise again. That wasn't a look of disgust or betrayal or anything Jungkook could have envisioned; in fact Taehyung looked like he was most certainly enjoying the show.

The kiss felt empty, just like all of his kisses not involving Taehyung, and yet the way Taehyung's eyes roamed over every curve of his body had Jungkook feel a fire burn within himself. He felt hot and so, so bothered; and none of it could be credited to Jimin's ministrations. Jungkook retained the eye contact like his life depended on it, holding onto Taehyung even at the peak of adultery. And somehow, in a very weird way it made him hot. His husband looking at him while he get devoured by another man had him hard all over.

Taehyung let out a shaky breath as Jungkook kissed Jimin and yet looked at him like the most deprived whore in the world. His eyes invited him, serenading his body in a way that said 'do you not want this?’ And Taehyung knew, just knew Jungkook would feel so good against his skin, so perfectly crafted to fit him.

Taehyung felt his own member harden by just how Jungkook looked at him, eyes dazed and begging for him, cheeks red and flustered. He slowly let his hand crawl inside his pants, his zip opening up on it's own. He looked at Jungkook whose eyes widened just a bit, still completely vulnerable to his gaze which penetrated his skin to permanently home itself somewhere within him. Taehyung palmed his member through his boxers as he slowly stripped Jungkook of every layer of wall he had built, violating every inch of his skin asking for an entrance. Jungkook let out a grunt, allowing him to devour it in his ears and lock it away in his chest; almost like a key to the home he had just built inside of him.

But Taehyung wouldn't let the other in so quick. Intentionally or not, Jungkook still had chosen Jimin of all people when his destiny lay with Taehyung. It was a dent on his pride, an insult to his intelligence; and it didn't fucking matter whether Jungkook was aware of it all or not. People get punished for absolutely no fault of theirs all the time, oh wouldn't Taehyung know about that. And Jungkook would not just have him however he wanted, Taehyung wouldn't allow that.

Ad so Taehyung let his hand out of his pants and zipped it up like he did not just enjoy the exhibition. His eyes dulled down, no longer trying to live within Jungkook but shone with all of the addiction he bestowed upon the other instead, telling him 'you could have had this.’

And amidst it all, Taehyung noticed with no little satisfaction that Jimin was giving him the exact same look that Jungkook was.

'Do you not want this?’

Both of them, eating each other, and yet inviting him.

Taehyung stood up and adjusted his pants. He walked towards the stairs, and only when he looked away from the duo did he allow the painfully restrained eye roll to take over his head. He was suddenly reminded of the night with Shangil and Yuna, both of them trying so hard to 'pleasure’ him like they actually could do it. The duo on the couch felt uncouth like that, trying to gain his attention through prospects of pleasure like he actually gave a damn about it.

All of them so bound by pleasure, when sex could be so much more…

He walked up to his bedroom, locking the door immediately behind him. His hard on was absolutely gone, and he let himself fall on the soft mattress, the slight disappointment brewing in his chest drowning him in exhaustion.


Jimin sighed out loud as he let himself fall on the couch. Shirt unbottoned and hanging loose off his shoulder. He rubbed his eyes and watched Jungkook retreating into his bedroom after fixing his shirt.

“I'm tired.” Well that was a new excuse.

He did not hide his disappointment. The fact that Jungkook wasn't halfway invested as he was bothered him much, but the fact that he stopped and 'felt tired’ right after Taehyung left was bad, bad news.

Speaking of Taehyung…

Jimin tried not thinking about him, tried hard not dwelling in the past; and yet he wanted Taehyung to look at him. What was he trying to prove, Jimin found no answers within himself. Maybe he was trying to solidify the fact that Jungkook was indeed his . Maybe he was trying to show Taehyung what he had been missing. Probably a cocktail of both, not that it mattered anymore. But absolutely nothing explained why Jimin was currently walking up the stairs, quiet and ginger, trying to keep his foot planted to the ground. Nothing explained why he did not bother knocking on Jungkook's room. Nothing could possibly come out of standing outside the room Taehyung went into and staring at the door, but there Jimin was. He felt the oak of the door, smooth against his fingertips, just like Taehyung's skin could feel. He nuzzled his nose on the door, breathing in, trying to find a certain mulletted man’s smell amidst the wood. He caressed the handle that held Taehyung's touch, let it seep inside his skin. That was the closest he felt to the other in a long, long time; when the other was not looking down on him, breathing on him like it's a favor. Just the plain old Taehyung who's eyes would still crinkle when he smiled so, so bright.

Jimin had no idea what he was doing, but he was not ashamed of it. The little distance between them made everything seem so easy, and Jimin felt safe and almost sure of himself for the time being.

For deep inside he knew, Taehyung could look as smug as he wanted to, smirk as much as he needed to; but he'd always still be Taehyung. The boy who loved constellations. The boy whom he loved.


Taehyung woke up fresh, tender sunrays kissing his face. He could not remember the last time he woke up to the sun not completely blazing down on him but caressing him instead, and he somehow understood why Namjoon would cherish it so much.

Nights held confusion and depravity, mornings were stern and determined.

His hard wired mind had used the night to his benefit, chugging out the unwanted feelings creeping up his system out of the window. For Taehyung smiled, never feeling more certain in his own skin. No distractions plagued his mornings, no predators clawed at his heart at the hour.

He had a plan.

The early morning sun reminded him of it, and Taehyung knew what he had to do.

And so when he went down with a slight jump on his steps and saw Jungkook lying on the couch looking exhausted as shit, he did not let it distract him.

He could very well walk past the man and carry on his own business, but that wouldn't do him any good now, would it?


Taehyung called softly, letting his hand free on the softness of Jungkook's hair. It was indeed incredibly soft, adding on to how his features softened at the onslaught of sleep.

Jungkook opened his reddened eyes. He was trying to fall asleep, trying hard , and yet after a whole night of tossing and turning trying to figure his thoughts out to absolutely no avail, he had just given up. Sprawling on the couch was just another attempt, and he jolted up immediately at the deep voice.

Taehyung looked like he walked out of a dream, and Jungkook found it hard to reply back. He remembered the tension from the night before and the very unfortunate outcome of it, and felt a tiny sliver of guilt creeping up his chest. He had indeed let Jimin kiss him right in front of his husband and even somehow asked him to enjoy it, which was as shameful as it gets. And yet here he was, running fingers through his hair and looking at him with so much care that Jungkook wanted to pull him in for cuddles. But the shame crept in and he looked down, at a loss for things to say and actions to do.

“Did you sleep here last night?”

Jungkook looked back at him. Well I didn't quite sleep you know because you wouldn't get out of my head—

“Umm no. I couldn't sleep so I came down for a glass of water, and well…”

“You couldn't sleep?”

Taehyung rubbed his hair with his fingers, grabbing at them softly before relaxing, the slight pull working wonders on the slight headache forming on Jungkook.

“No. Not one bit.”

“Well try now, okay? Close your eyes and focus on my fingers.”

And Jungkook did that. He traced the fingertips behind his eyes and let the touch take him to unknown maps. Taehyung even hummed a bit, not a song per se but a low hum which washed at Jungkook like a relaxing ebb. His fingers felt softer and softer by the moment, until he could no longer focus on their movement, his consciousness slowly wavering. The deep hum sounded resonated in his head, and he let it carry it to the familiar warmth of darkness.


When Jungkook woke up it was mid-day, the sun getting homicidal through the windows. There were few things bothersome about living up this high, and the blazing sun was one of them. Though what caught his attention was not the unwanted blaze but more so the dark haired man getting ready to go out.

Jungkook would always feel amazed at how quick the brain regained it's functionality after a nap; like his eyes were still half shut and refusing, but his mind was already going haywire. Thoughts of the night which he could not avoid were the first to ease in, and even with the grogginess making him stumble on the couch.

Taehyung was in his casual outfit, white shirt, black suit and disheveled hair. He seemed to be looking for something, but eased up as soon as he saw Jungkook.

“You're awake. I was about to leave a note.”

Jungkook rubbed at his eyes and sighed softly. He never did take notice of noons before, he realized. Always was too busy or too lost.

But when he walked up to Taehyung stumbling on his feet, he did not feel lost. So sure of where he was going, what he was about to do.

Jungkook wrapped his arms around Taehyung's waist, engulfing him in a backhug. Taehyung was startled for a moment, but then smiled at the other nuzzling his nose in the crook of his neck.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook mumbled, voice muffled against the fabric of Taehyung's suit.

“Back home. To Namjoon.”

Jungkook said nothing, but his hold on his waist just got a tad tighter.

“C'mon now,” Taehyung turned around, prying his hands off him in the process. “I'll be back in no time, okay?”

Jungkook was forced to face him, look him in the eye. Something he had been dreading for some reason.

“Where's Jimin?” Taehyung asked out of the blue.

Jungkook honestly did not know. He presumed the other had gone home after their little mismatch at the couch. It was not a rare occurrence, Jimin entered and left as he wished.

“I don't know. He went home probably.”

“That's… bad. You should check up on him.” Taehyung said, pushing Jungkook's messy bangs backwards.

“He can take care of himself Tae.”

“Even so,” Taehyung said softly. “You're his boyfriend.”

Jungkook let out a sigh. Taehyung was not wrong, but he did not like hearing it from him.

“Tae... about last night–”

“There's nothing about last night,” Taehyung cut him off, still speaking softly, but so surely.

“We have an arrangement, Jungkook. Let's keep it that way.”


Taehyung placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“I'll be going now.”



“I simply do not understand!” Taehyung whined out loud , plopping down on his favorite black couch for effect or from real fucking exhaustion, unfathomable to Namjoon.

“Why wouldn't he just kill his father already? Things could be so much easier!”

Taehyung kept complaining, and Namjoon rubbed his temples.

“Taehyung, it's just been an hour since you arrived. And yet you have managed to rile me up so much?”

Taehyung gasped. “Oh so you're tired of me already? To think my own flesh and blood would…”

He trailed off, clutching his chest in hurt .

Namjoon sighed as he looked at his brother, scoffing at the pout he sported.

“Stop that. You've been yelling forever. Do you know how quite it has been with just me in the house? I need some getting used to to loud sounds.” Namjoon said with a straight face, all the comedy in his voice perfectly disguised under strict rigidity.

“Just say you missed me and go. It's not like I don't know but get it off your chest.” Taehyung said, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Well if we are going to dissect the metaphorical implications of that statement–”

“Geez save it Joon!” Taehyung cut him off. “I just want to cry about my issues please!”

“Good thing you've established that. So?”


“I'm very well aware of that. He's all you've been talking about.”

“Well it's not working with him! He wouldn't off that piece of shit, and there's Jimin I've got to deal with, and all of that after I've charmed him so good!”

Namjoon chuckled. “So? Things got hard and you come back running to me. Endearing.”

Listen , Joon.” Taehyung cried in annoyance. “Save your sass for latter. Why is nothing working?”

“That's a bad question.” Namjoon said. “I wouldn't know what I have not seen. And besides,” his expression suddenly turned grim, and voice stern. “That recklessness of yours is going to be a problem in the long run, brother.”

Taehyung immediately recoiled, face hardening. He looked away, as if to escape someone and cleared his throat.

“I told you I was sorry.”

“Doesn't matter. You got carried away while gambling, again.”

“I…”, Taehyung trailed off, not knowing what to say.

“Addiction, Taehyung, can be fruitful if used well. I thought I taught you well.”

Taehyung kept avoiding his gaze, and Namjoon smirked. He let his gaze run wild on him, attacking him wherever he seemed vulnerable, making him squirm in his seat.

“Tell me Tae, you have seen Jungkook, I haven't. Is he charmed?”

Taehyung thought about it for a moment. “Well he is.”

“I know how he looks at me. Like I'm the only human left. Well if we take into consideration he's absolutely not into cannibalism and–”

“Okay, I get it. And he still keeps Jimin.”

Taehyung looked down. “Yeah. It's not working.”

Namjoon sighed. “Tae, I'd try to tell you it's just been a few days but you and I both know that is an excuse.”

“Yeah. I even made sure he remembers my face when he tries getting it on. Even so…”

Namjoon smiled. A genuine smile of admiration. He would've almost clapped but his restraint was definitely well built.

“Do you see what that means?”

Taehyung looked at him. “That I'm not hot enough? That's a lie.”

“A lie it is.” Namjoon chuckled. “You're very hot, Taehyung. And he's very well addicted as well.”

“...then what is the problem?”

“The problem is bottled chaos, brother. He's a restrained addict. Controlled in his ventures.”

Taehyung listened. For once, he listened , ignoring his gut.

“He's protecting himself on instinct. Even when he knows he's giving into you. Because he knows, or feels to be more specific, that you're trouble.”

That... could be right .

“... He's getting high on you while monitoring himself. He likes you definitely, wants to have you for sure. He's addicted alright, but he's cautious. Careful of you.”

Taehyung looked perplexed, but he knew, just knew Namjoon was right. He was always right.

“And so Taehyungie, try however much you may, he'll keep Jimin. Jimin feels safe to him, harmless ,” Namjoon stressed the word. “And he wouldn't kill his father for you, however much of a dick he is.”

“And that is because…”, Namjoon stood up from his seat and walked towards Taehyung. He harshly grabbed his face, but then caressed his cheeks softly.

“He doesn't trust you, Tae.”

The Kim brothers are a package. A duo who complimented each other like a piece of puzzle. A combination of grace and madness, wisdom and smartness.

They were incomplete without each other, and Taehyung realized it all over again.

“You're both addicts. He enjoys a monitored madness and you, well,” Namjoon looked at him with a hint of disappointment. “You enjoy a rampant thrill. He doesn't trust you, and yet you trust him to kill his father if you pushed him hard enough.”

Taehyung nodded in understanding, and Namjoon smiled. But his face turned stern again, his eyes a mixture of concern and disapproval. Concern far outran the other but Namjoon hid it well.

“And it's very hard to trust a man who's reckless enough to bet his own hand off just for rush.”

Taehyung hated disappointing his brother. He hated the stern look and the feeling of guilt brewing in him. And yet he knew at that moment he deserved it all.

“I get it now, Joon. I was foolish.”

“Good,” Namjoon softened into a smile. “You've done some damage, but I'm sure you can fix that now.”

Taehyung smiled as well. “I guess. Gotta win Jeon's trust.” He sighed. “Exhausting.”

“Not really, Tae. Remember the pressure points? No human is immune to that. The quickest way to gain his trust is to show him how much you trust him. Make him feel obligated to trust you back.”

Taehyung nodded and giggled happily, a large weight seemingly getting off his chest.

“You know I owe you one.”

Namjoon flicked his forehead. “I'm your brother. You owe me nothing.”

Taehyung rubbed his temples and pouted again, but soon broke into giggles as he described how Jungkook would get jealous over the smallest things, or how he would want to sleep with Taehyung in his bed but was too shy to ask. Namjoon listened carefully, smiling with his brother; but deep down an unknown emotion rooted in his heart. Something clenching and gnawing at his walls, a little burning sensation as he did not miss the way Taehyung's eyes sparkled everytime he took Jungkook's name…

And very subconsciously, Namjoon prayed.

Prayed it all to be just an addiction.



Two weeks.

Two weeks it had been since Taehyung left with a promise of 'being back in no time.’ Jungkook could have appreciated the humor of irony better had he not been fucking dying.

Jimin had been strangely distant as well. His visits had been less frequent, and proximities even less so. They barely kissed anymore, and oddly enough none of them were complaining.

But that just meant more loneliness for Jungkook. Alone in the dark high up in his penthouse he tried to remember how sweet Taehyung tasted in his mouth, how liberating his smell felt. How Taehyung brought out the rebel in him and nurtured it without his knowledge, to the point he had defied his father more than once without feeling his chest shake. Had Taehyung been present with him he'd be monstrous, but Jungkook digressed.

He did not know who to feel disappointed in anymore, but he knew he was upset. So, so upset at Taehyung. He had tried calling him, making sure to get his number around this time. And call he did everyday, only to find no response at all. At this point Jungkook had gone desperate and he knew he had, but the absence of his dose of Taehyung had gone alarming . He had never felt more disheveled and disconnected to himself in his life; he had lost track of time and place. Business was oddly stagnant and there had been incredulous amount of time to mope around, only worsening his state of mind.

Did Taehyung hate him so much? That was the only thing in his mind.

But now he felt energized, well, he had to. For the monthly gathering of the family was set the next day, and he had a lot of powerful hawks to intimidate. Jungkook loved the power bestowed on him, he wouldn't deny it. Looking at Jimin lowering his gaze at him and being reverent made him feel powerful. Looking at Yoongi trying hard not to offend him with his crude statements was satisfying to say the least. Looking at Namjoon look at him with respect even with all the wisdom in the world made his heart soar, he could be and he would be vain like that.

Speaking of Namjoon…

Jungkook was pretty positive about the meeting, not only for the prospect of feeding his ego but also meeting Namjoon, and finally getting some strands of info on that damned brother of his. Taehyung had never attended meetings, and Jungkook wouldn't expect him to do so now; but at least knowing where the fuck he had been could be a good start for expectations.

And so Jungkook spent some time babying his skin for the impending meeting, conditioned his messed up locks and even concealed his lack of sleep as well. There were appearances to be maintained and people to burn, but more importantly, he had a mullet to find.


To say Jimin was not very keen on attending a family meeting was an understatement. He actively avoided them, avoided the gaze on him. It really did confirm his position as the butcher, and a meeting which revolved around said position was an even greater woe. He had murdered his own cousin in cold blood, and even though he wouldn't be facing 'the judgement’, he was still breaking out in a sweat.

Park Chanyeol had been embezzling money from one of the family beneficiaries, one who is held in high regard. That was an unforgivable crime and Jimin's actions would be mere judgement in the bigger picture. They wouldn't throw him out, he wouldn't be ostracized or punished, but he knew the gaze was only going to get stronger, and it certainly did.

He was seated in a leathery cushioned chair, finest built and softest recoil, and yet he squirmed . His father beside him occasionally pat his knee, but he didn't look much better himself. He never looked good in meetings, one stern look from the Jeon and Senior Park ensured he threw up right after he gets out of the hell house. Embarrassment at it's finest, to the point it became one of the many reasons for Jimin to not attend meetings in general. Sometimes he wished he had an older brother, or even younger so he could cut attending like Taehyung did; other times he just wanted a reassurance from his boyfriend who sat all high and mighty at the end of the table, something he never got.

Jimin hated admitting it to himself, but if Taehyung attended meetings he could have felt some ease in himself. He was a bright talker and charmer, and claimed all the attention; which could never not work in Jimin's favor.

“We cannot begin to express how sorry we are for your inconvenience, Mr. Lee.”

Jeon Jaebin began, with a voice softened to calculated measure. Jungkook beside him looked articulate, with brows and lips perfectly furrowed in sorry.

Mr.Lee shook his head, an amiable little man. He seemed terrifyingly genuine, and the true regard on his face almost threw Jimin off. There was no room for a human gesture in a line of work paved in lies, and Jimin could not verify whether the man was just brutally righteous in his views or just perfectly artificial to lure people with.

Jimin almost got comfortable at the man's friendliness.

“What happened was unfortunate, Jeon.” Mr. Lee remarked, eyes shining with brilliance. “But I never hoped for no mistakes when I signed up for this.”

For some odd reason he looked only at Jungkook.

“I believe,” he started again. “There is nothing that cannot be solved through negotiations. And I'm a patient man, I understand.”

The gaze on him had softened, yet Jimin's senses were heightened still. Through the corner of his eye he could see Namjoon's lips curl up in a small smirk.

To be very fucking honest he did not how the Kim brains were wired, and he was practically done with them.

“Park Chanyeol had been embezzling money from your accounts that we hold.” Jungkook stated, all eyes now fixated on him. Lee Jinsoo nodded his head a bit too vigorously, urging him to continue.

“Well he has been taken care of, but the organization that he had been sending all the money to,” Jungkook paused and looked at all the members present one by one.

“Can I even call it a organization though?”

“Call it what it is.” Yoongi remarked, making his presence known for the first time. “A cult. Oh pardon me, a sex cult.”

Lee Jinsoo let out a hearty laugh.

“Considering his family occupation, it's actually no surprise.”

“Except it is,” Yoongi said. “It is a cult to us, but for them it's worship. A way to appease their Gods. That's pretty holy compared to what the Park business is at.”

“You seem to have a problem with that,” Park Senior growled at him, and Jimin felt the quota of embarrassment slowly filling up.

“Easy now,” a voice produced itself, and everyone looked up to Min Dohun, seated opposite his son. An old man with even older principles, he seemed to want to have nothing to do with his son at the moment.

“He did not mean it that way, Park. Young blood, reckless mouths.”

Yoongi scoffed at him, but did not say a word.

“Well, that cult exists. And they have your money.” Jeon Jaebin said, more like announced exasperated at the discussion going haywire.

“So my money was stolen by a cult. But why would one of yours do such a thing?” Jinsoo turned to the Park duo, eyes narrowed in a question. His voice was devoid of any disdain or threat, just laced with pure interest.

Jimin was immensely uncomfortable, and he kept glancing at Jungkook, who, to his despair had somehow joined in on the gaze with everyone else. But he did receive a nod of assurance, and just a tiny fraction of concern in the other's eyes. He had to make use of whatever little he had.

“He wired huge sums to one Byun Baekhyun,” Jimin said, trying not to make his voice waver. “We dug into it. He seems to be the cult leader.”

Someone on the table flinched, Jimin felt it in his senses, but he did not know exactly who did.

Lee Jinsoo pursed his lips. “Why though…”

“They seem to have some sort of personal connection,” Jimin said, clearing his throat. He didn't like to be vocal in meetings, but there were a bunch of other things he didn't like, and it was clear nobody was bothered by it.

“Well, now that we've established the who’s in question,” Jinsoo remarked, leaning back on his chair. “Let’s talk about how are we getting my money back.”

He spoke like he meant business, stressing the 'my’. The tinge of regard in his voice was ever present, but he made it clear his regard was not the thing to be prioritized at the moment.

“Can you tell us exactly how much was embezzled?” Yoongi asked.

Jinsoo half smiled and nodded. “Sure I can.”

He then looked outside the room and called for someone, crisp and clear but not too loud. A calculated decibel.

A man walked into the large hall, stealthily. Measuring each step, like the mismatch of one would make the floor crumble beneath him. His hair was dyed an extravagant blonde, shining against the wooden backdrop of the room, much in contrast to the way he seemed to disappear within himself, eyes cast low and broad shoulders awkwardly hunched inwards. He was dressed extremely plainly, but the formality of it all was carried in his broad chest which was constricted under the white shirt. He avoided eye contact with anyone in the room, and the fact that so many pairs of eyes were fixated on him and his resulting awkwardness felt pronounced in the way he bit his lips. He stood behind Lee Jinsoo and gripped at his chair hard, still not looking up. He glued himself at the back of the chair like he was trying to become one with the wood and disappear. His movements were peculiar, and very very rare per se.

Jinsoo looked at him with adoration in his eyes, firmly gripping his hand in protection. Namjoon looked at the man who still wouldn't look up. His eyes were hooded by the thick lashes, protectively shielding the emotions displayed. He lowered his gaze so low that almost half of his face remained concealed, but Namjoon did not need his entire face to know the fact that the man was incredibly gorgeous.

Jinsoo kept patting his hand. “Can you show them the data documents,” he said in a small, caring voice. “ Jin?

Jin nodded, slowly at first and then vigorously, and Namjoon could trace the semblance of a smile on his full, plump lips. He sort of loved the game of concealment on the other; it was fun imagining the curves on his face and picturing it.

'Jin’ awkwardly fumbled around his back pockets, extremely awkwardly; but then produced some papers in his hand.

For the first time he looked up, eyes darting fast across the room. He did not take his time scanning faces, could not for all he knew, looking somewhere behind each person rather than into their eyes.

Except for Namjoon.

He caught Namjoon's gaze on him, and held it.

And Namjoon could see his entire face, which seemed to be way more gorgeous than he imagined.

There was a catastrophic swirl of emotions displayed in his pupils that darted left to right rhythmically while still being planted on Namjoon. It took a moment, but his eyes did calm down a bit, and Namjoon had not realized his own had become big and comforting and soft.

Jin took a deep breath, and trudged towards Namjoon's end of the table, looking down at his feet and digging his chin as far as it could go into his own chest, hunching and appearing small. He gingerly stood beside Namjoon and placed the papers in front of him at the table. Namjoon was a little surprised as to why he chose to hand the papers to him, and maybe a tad proud. He looked at Jin who held his gaze again, eyes now focussing on him curiously and with intrigue. Namjoon gave him a small smile, to which he nodded softly and started walking back to Jinsoo’s side.

Jinsoo smiled at Namjoon. “He likes you.”

He went back to stand at the exact same position behind Jinsoo, except this time he occasionally looked up to meet Namjoon's eyes.

“Jeon, and all the other family heads; meet Kim Seokjin, my heir.”

Jinsoo announced, his voice laced with pride and protectiveness.

“He-... Hello.” Jin muttered softly, the movements of his lips lost somewhere in the middle. That little snippet of his voice felt as gorgeous as his face looked, Namjoon basked in it unknowingly enough. He looked down again at the attention on him, and Namjoon found himself feeling light in his chest.

That? ” Park Senior spoke, a bit too loud for anyone's liking. “Is your heir?”

Jinsoo looked at him smiling, but his face had hardened. “Yes. And what about it, Park?”

Jimin nudged his father to make him stop talking, but he did not take the gesture.

“He seems broken.”

An eerie silence filled the room. Namjoon had always been a calm and collected man, but at that moment he gritted his teeth in disdain.

Jin slumped further into himself, head even lower now. He did not look up at Namjoon either, and his heart sank.

Jinsoo had now hardened with no trace of smile on his face, and yet he did not come off intimidating. He still kept his friendly mask on, but nothing more than that.

“He has more qualifications than you'd dream of, Park. Tell me, I heard you'd never graduated high school? Jin went to University and has a degree.”

Further down the long table Min Dohun and Yoongi collectively snickered at Park Senior, and at the absence of an audience they seemed like they could high five each other. Snarl at each other right after, perhaps.

Park Senior looked around embarrassed, and was fumbling for words to say, but Namjoon beat him to it.

“The first wiring shows thirty million,” he spoke for the first time since the meeting began. “And the next went straight up to a hundred million. I guess he got a confidence boost.”

“Umm... there's…” Jin began, but trailed off.

Namjoon looked at him and nodded in assurance, leaning towards him to make him feel at ease and heard .

Jin looked around rapidly again, and then began, “thirty... million... another in between...I wrote it...below..”

Namjoon looked at the papers again. “Ah my bad. Sorry Seokjin.”

Jin smiled a bit before looking down again.

“Another thirty million after the first, and then straight to a hundred. The next transactions go progressively higher. The records show a total of eight transactions, and an exact amount of nine hundred... and fifty million.”

Namjoon's voice got smaller, and the murmurs in the room grew. That was a ridiculously large amount to steal from the accounts, and it would take a heavy toll on the joined family investments.

“That sums it up clearly, thank you, Mr. Kim Namjoon.” Jinsoo announced, killing all the buzzing in the hall.

“It's a huge sum, yes. And it will affect all of us. Finishing off Park Chanyeol was commendable,” Jinsoo looked at Jimin and nodded. “But that doesn't change the fact that someone else is fucking around with our money. It is not just a dent in our finance, but a dent on our pride as well.”

The room remained silent, as the prospect of the words resonated differently to each person present, but resonate they did with everyone.

“We are not withdrawing our support, never have, never will. But you do understand the consequences of losing money, all of you.” Jinsoo eyed everyone, his small smile never faltering, but seemingly not so friendly anymore.

“I just want my money back, and soon, I guess.” He remarked. “We'll provide you with any incentive you need to find this cult thing and snatch our shit back,” Jinsoo paused, looking for everybody's reactions.

“But you have to find it.”

The friendliness in his eyes remained, but it had grown into something more stern and pronounced. Everyone in the room knew he meant business, and nothing could possibly stop him from withdrawing his accounts in case his money is gone.

Jinsoo stood up. “I'll leave you gentlemen be. Feel free to use the hallroom for the remainder of the meeting. I hope when we meet again the airs around us be less pensive. Have a good evening.”

He grabbed Jin’s hand and walked away through the door. And Namjoon was pretty sure he had just imagined it, but he saw Seokjin straighten his posture and walk away tall.


The senior leaders huddled together, much to each of their distastes to discuss the finances, or to talk shit about Jinsoo precisely. Namjoon kept studying the records with Yoongi, and Jimin and Jungkook sat side by side.

Three different worlds, and Jimin's world was definitely the quietest. Jungkook sipped on his glass of wine, courtesy Lee Jinsoo, while Jimin didn't know what his input in the entire situation could produce. He had already done his part, and possibly after they find Byun Baekhyun he could be of some purpose again. But at the moment he simply relaxed into the silence surrounding him, not squirming in a long time.

Jungkook eyed Namjoon sitting nearby, carefully analysing the papers. They hadn't talked once since arrival, Namjoon had been awfully silent. Nothing he expected of his brother in law but well, if Jungkook had to he would start communications.

“Don't you think your brother should be here?”

He asked in his direction, and Namjoon slowly looked up. Jimin perked up next to him.

“His inputs on this matter could help us.”

Jungkook said again when Namjoon did not reply, the awkward silence in between something Jungkook would like to avoid.

Namjoon smiled , cheeks dipping into deep dimples. He still remained silent, but looked at Jungkook meaningfully.

“Where is he?” Jungkook asked impatiently. He wasn't a very patient man to begin with, and Namjoon sure seemed to be testing him.

“He's here.” Namjoon replied after what felt like an eternity, and both Jungkook and Jimin yelled in surprise.


Jimin, because Taehyung never attended meetings. Jungkook, simply because Taehyung was here.

“He is too fickle to sit through meetings,” Namjoon remarked. “They are boring to him.”

“What do you mean he's here?” Jimin asked.

“Here as in this building. He's downstairs, at the library I guess.”

Jungkook stood up way faster than Namjoon had anticipated. Almost like he didn't even wait for the sentence to end. Jimin watched in horror as Jungkook stormed off the hall, uncaring of the glares of the seniors, particularly his father's.

Namjoon smirked.


Jungkook practically sprinted downstairs as soon as he got out of sight of the others. It seemed too good to be true that Taehyung actually was in the same building, but he wouldn't know why Namjoon would lie to him. After looking around the huge hallway Jungkook could spot the library, literally taking half of the floor to itself. The library was huge, anyone could get lost no matter what or who they were looking for.

Amidst the loud thumping of his heart and a blurred conscience only making his vision sharp, Jungkook thought about what should his reaction be. He probably should be upset, he was upset in fact, but the adrenaline at the prospect of seeing him was far too much. Should he act surprised? Or should he just tackle him in a hug? Jungkook wasn't sure, but he knew he had to come up with something before he could encounter the other.

But all of his excitement died down within himself when he finally spotted the other. None of his reactions would matter, because the first feeling that crawled in him was despair.

Taehyung stood there in all his glory…

With Yugyeom. Faces inches away from each other.

Jungkook was taken aback, so much he just stood there, watching his husband feel up someone else. Taehyung spotted him not too quick enough, and when he did he yelled in delight.

Jungkookie! ” He yelled and approached him, leaving Yugyeom behind.

“You…,” Jungkook began, but trailed off with no words forming in his mouth.

Taehyung did not mind, and without wasting a second he gave him a tight hug, pulling him as far as he can inside his chest. Jungkook almost hugged him back, but his senses hit him at the right moment. He briskly pushed Taehyung off him.


“How could you, Tae? How could you just diappear whenever you want?” Jungkook asked, voice pained in a slight low, exhausted.

“Oh about that,” Taehyung replied, his playfulness a stark contrast to Jungkook's grim. “Turns out I just can.”

Taehyung ,” Jungkook said whining. “Is it about that night? It is, right? You got bothered and left.”

“That's open to interpretation,” Taehyung said. “I like to make people think for themselves. Imagine, you know, rather than just giving it all away? People make so many interesting stories!”

“Cut the crap Tae!” Jungkook yelled, totally done with the situation. “I want an explanation. Now.”

Taehyung was taken aback by the sudden outburst, and he subtly eyed Yugyeom who stood there watching them. He softly sighed.

“Yug, can you give us a moment?”

Yugyeom gave no reply, but he made his way out, squeezing Taehyung's soldier in the way. Jungkook was fuming.

Yug ? Really now… you don't have a pet name for me though?”

Taehyung huffed in annoyance. “So you want one now.”

“I deserve one.”

“Alright I'll work on that. Anyway,” Taehyung rubbed his temples. “To answer your previous question, I told you I was off home. That's where I had been.”

“That's not your home anymore. We have a home in Gangnam.”

“Jungkook, don't do this. There's no 'we’ about us. That penthouse is your father's and so is yours. And Jimin's. I'm only–”

Jungkook cut Taehyung off by harshly placing his lips on his. All the repressed emotions came dancing out into his mouth, and he pushed them further into Taehyung's mouth, trying to get him to know , to understand .

They moved steady and slow, much to his surprise, but a pleasant surprise nonetheless. His kisses only felt complete with Taehyung's, whatever witchcraft that was Jungkook did not bother to look into. He only devoured the taste of him while it lasted, while it was still tangible and not some figment of his imagination.

“You and I both know that's a bunch of bullshit, Taehyung.”

Jungkook said, mumbling against his mouth, already wanting to capture it with his own again.

“And what about our agreement?” Taehyung said, exhaling sharply into Jungkook, their lips still grazing over each other.

“Well that needs modification, since you just happen to be too fucking beautiful to let go,” Jungkook said, voice lowering with each word.

“That stupid agreement is void, now that I've had a taste of you.” Jungkook mumbled again, pushing Taehyung against a bookshelf, careful not to tumble the books over.

“And what about Jimin?” Taehyung asked, hands going up to cup Jungkook's face.

Jungkook remained silent for a moment, appreciating Taehyung's eyes.

“I'll take care of that.” Jungkook finally replied.

Taehyung slowly pushed Jungkook off of him, smiling at him sheepishly. He felt almost giddy inside, shied away at the feeling. Jungkook loved when Taehyung looked like that, even though it made him flustered as well.

“So,” Taehyung cleared his throat. “How did the meeting go?”

Jungkook huffed. “Our situation is worse than I imagined. Our lives are on the line while you're busy with your boytoys.”

“Now, now, cut that right there. Tell me what's wrong.”

Jungkook explained to him everything he knew. Starting from Chanyeol embezzling money to sending ridiculous amounts of money to Byun Baekhyun, who seems to be the leader of a dangerous cult. Byun Baekhyun was roaming free with their hard earned money, and that stupid cult of his was his ultimate ace. The cult was not exactly powerless, in fact they could hurt the families if they tried hard enough.

“What's the amount we owe Jinsoo?”

“Almost a billion.”

“We can all contribute from our family earnings…”

“That's not the point, Tae,” Jungkook rolled his eyes. “The money can be paid back. Even if we suffer losses for a time we can make up for it in no time. The real issue is the hurt in the pride of Lee Jinsoo along with the families. We cannot have someone stealing from us and getting away with it.”

Taehyung listened to each of his words carefully.

What a fucking golden opportunity to bring you down, Jeon.

Taehyung looked to be in deep thought, radiating calm. But inside his gears were churning alarmingly. Something had stormed his brain enough to rile him up in an instant, and now the semblance of a goal had formed in his chest.

Where there is a will, there are a lot of ways. And Taehyung leaned more towards the ways not taken.

“Jungkook, let me take care of this cult.” Taehyung said with a newfound determination that wouldn't take no for an answer.

“What do you mean Tae? You're doing something reckless again, aren't you?”

“No, Jungkook, no ,” Taehyung stressed the word. “I have a plan, but I'd need you to trust me.”

Jungkook suddenly was taken back to the evening at the warehouse. Gambling to gain his money had been one of Taehyung's plans as far as he'd observed. Dangerous and rampant, and could be extremely hurtful.

“You could get hurt Tae,” Jungkook said in a small voice. He had expected a rebuke to follow or a sharp comment about Taehyung being able to take care of himself. But what followed had him surprised.

“I know you wouldn't let anything happen to me, Kookie. I trust you.”

Pleasantly surprised.

We'd destroy this cult thing, together, Jungkook. This should not fail.”

Jungkook looked at Taehyung's eyes for the trace of maniacal grin, but found a subdued excitement instead.

“If I tell you I've got this, would you trust me, Jungkook?”

He asked, coming closer, voice going straight into Jungkook's head asking him to trust him.

And Jungkook listened. And nodded.



Flickering lights and restrained hands. Juicy .

The room reeked of a familiar smell but Taehyung couldn't exactly make out what it was. The bleak walls and the ceilings darkened with what he presumed was smoke only compounded his pitiful state. How Taehyung found his way out there could pass as an adventure ; unfortunately Taehyung remained passed out for half of it.

Taehyung wouldn't say he wasn't into bondage, he did enjoy it from time to time. And some in throes of passion so intense would bind him up too tight, tight enough to cease blood flow. But there was an enormous thrill of achievement in getting it hard even when the blood rush is stopped, so Taehyung occasionally liked being restrained like that. Experiments, fun stuff.

And now that he had been restrained to a very uncomfortable chair with half as much vigor he was just very slightly disappointed . For a sex cult they had been lousy. The bonds tickled him, that's all they did. He knew this encounter would most probably not end in sex, rather his fingernails might be pulled off; even so the clumsy bounds around his wrists and ankles were pitiful. Couldn't get out of them, sure; an exciting challenge, not at all.

He had been snooping around the cult for about three days before some men came into La Llorona and doped him up real nice with chloroform. The next things he registered when he woke up were flickering lights and clumsy binds.

Jungkook was right. He'd get hurt.

For a moment he considered whether he was being genuine when he said he trusted Jungkook would protect him. A part of him sure did, and Taehyung did not know what to do with his newfound discovery that he actually trusted Jungkook.

Taehyung thought he could sneak into the cult with ease; without suspicions, without getting caught.

Turned out he really had been reckless.

He was caught and bound to a chair which made his ass hurt, and Taehyung would be lying if he said he was prepared for what was to come.

His head was still drowsy and the lights were blurred, they didn't quite hurt his vision just yet. And even amidst the drowsiness of it all he knew he had to come up with a plan to escape. The tall people in black robes surrounding him were blurry to him as well, but he did not need to clearly see them to know they weren't the most merciful beings.

“Kim Taehyung.”

A voice appeared,and Taehyung alloted the voice to the person that seemed to step forward. Taehyung gulped, he wasn't much fond of shady people in groups.

The person walked up to him, hovering over his position. The light was cut off from Taehyung's eyes, and he could open them a tad more.

The person raised his veil. A man, rugged features and stern, rigid. But God Taehyung looked at his eyes and he was repulsed. They jutted out like inanimate objects, dilated permanently as it seemed. His pupils extended so large Taehyung could only see the black of it, making them seem like an endless void. He groaned at the despair staring right at him, but it never slipped past his vocal cords, trapped uncomfortably.

“Did you see the light?”

The man asked, his voice robotic and stern. Taehyung knew he was in some deep shit, and he did not know what could be the correct response to it all.

“No…” He said softly. Silence was just as bad as any response, if not worse. For all he knew about sex cults, the worst outcome could be non-consentual necrophilia (not that they would need his consent once he's dead) and the best outcome could be a fantastically mind blowing orgy. He wasn't sure if he was prepared for anything in the middle range.

“Why do you seek us out Kim Taehyung?”

The man spoke again, growing more articulate by the second. The rest of the mass moved forward, reducing the periphery of the circle they had enclosed him in. Taehyung had to escape, had to run…

Had to reveal.

“Byun Baekhyun seeked me.”

Taehyung answered, suddenly the fear in his eyes slowly dissipating.

The fear that may or may not have been really present to begin with.

The man in front of him suddenly changed expressions. His eyes still remained large and disgusting, but his lips moved in a snarl.

“Why would you lie, Kim Taehyung?”

His voice no longer sounded foreign, a tinge of bitterness seeping through. Not to put anyone off but just enough to register.

“The only one lying to you is Baekhyun.”

The people began howling lowly, a strange mixture of threatening and scared. Some of them shook violently, but Taehyung stayed put.

Nothing could deter him now.

“He has been feeding you lies. Everything he ever said was a scam. The God you worship is a figment of his imagination.”

Taehyung said, voice deep and determined. The howling grew louder, and the man in front of him landed a huge punch on his face.

Taehyung had not braced himself, and his cheek hurt like a bitch. The people cheered in an almost sub human manner, and Taehyung did wonder if they were human after all.

“Baekhyun told me,” Taehyung continued, only slightly fazed by the pain in his cheek.

“He told me how he fooled you all. Laughed about it.”

The mass went violent. The man shushed them in a language foreign to him, and they abruptly stopped.

“Leader would never show himself to the likes of you.”

Taehyung grinned. His cheeks hurt, but his giddiness was too much to contain. His grins turned into loud giggles, and after a point he was laughing hysterically.

“Nothing's changed. So good to see.”

The man gave him a questioning look, still keeping the depravity alive in his eyes. Taehyung's giggles died at the sight again, so revolting.

“What do you mean, Kim Taehyung?”

“Barboda, that's what you call him, right?”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes and smirked. The man looked like someone punched him in the gut, but he tried to retain his calm.

“How far have you snooped?”

Taehyung looked at him and sighed. “Not much actually. Didn't have to. Baekhyun tells me everything.”

“Stop lying.” The man gritted his teeth, and landed another punch to his jaw. Taehyung felt the metallic taste of blood in his mouth that he hated so much, an knew his lip was busted.

“Brown hair, big head, small lips.” Taehyung said as a matter of fact, though he was having trouble speaking. He decided he didn't like being punched in the face after all, more so when he was pretty proud of his face.

“Nose a bit higher than mine, bigger. Small eyes. Isn't that your Barboda? Or at least how you remember him?”

The man looked surprised, but did not faze.

“That description could fit almost anyone.”

Taehyung groaned in pain as he tried soothing his bruised lip. The taste of blood disturbed his train of thought again, good thing he now knew what to say.

“The prejudice of it all lies in the darkness,” Taehyung said, voice deepening, and the whole room went still.

A thin sheen of sweat was itching Taehyung at the back of his neck, but he could not squirm, could not move. He essentially was nervous. Out of practice .

“And the power of union shall rule the divine. The light will find you in the eyes of the prophet, and you'll know your calling.”

The veiled masses dropped to their knees, chanting vigorously. The man staggered backwards in his feet, shaking visibly as his eyes went wide if it was even possible.

“How….how do you know...that?”

“Oh your sermons?” Taehyung remarked innocently. “Baekhyun comes over my house to make fun of them everyday.”

“It cannot be!” The man growled. “Barboda knows where his destiny lies! He values our Lord more than anyone! He's seen the light, he made us see the light!” The man grabbed his jaw harshly, making Taehyung wince in pain.

“You think we'll believe that he'd be lying? He's done miracles, proved himself to the light! Your lies shall be lit on fire at the face of the light, and your whole body shall burn if you dare speak another word against him!”

Ah. The light. Taehyung remembers that bullshit.

Taehyung's jaw ached, but he managed to smirk nonetheless.

“The path to divinity lies in depravity for you lot. Funny how I could not help but believe that when I was a gremlin.” Taehyung sighed, talking more to himself than anybody else.

“I chose my God in sex. I would not know what I'd have done if I didn't, what a mess.”

“What are you muttering!?” The man snarled at him.

“Reliving the light, old friend. Saying hi to the God up there.” Taehyung lazily replied, and the man did not know what to feel anymore.

“You're saying the light found you?”

Taehyung smiled. “No. But I found your leader yesterday. We talked and fucked. Fucked more I guess, if that's what you call seeing the light then I have. He's crazy good.”

The man snickered. “You're lying again. Barboda’s in Japan at the moment to bring to us another holy prophet he encountered, blessed be his soul. And you dare say he united with a scoundrel like you?” The man spat with disgust.

“Barboda would never associate with scum.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. “So he's in Japan, huh.” He muttered to himself.


“Well I see you have taken my phone.” Taehyung pointed towards the device he recognized. “Baekhyun's contact should be high up in the list. Give him a call, why don't you?”

The man looked at him in disbelief. “He would never be in contact with someone like you.”

“Why don't you find out? The phone is unlocked, go ahead.”

True, Taehyung did not have Baekhyun's contact. But he did have Yoongi's. Which was saved as Baekhyun's.

The man hesitated, and Taehyung could see the tiny beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. He liked the instinctive lack of faith; it just solified his belief that the guts never lie.

After stalling around for quite some time the man picked up the phone, eyes darting over every veiled soul who still sat on their knees, and Taehyung felt the strange stretch of power again.

The same power he felt when he was fourteen.

The man pressed on the particular contact and put the phone on speaker for everyone to hear, privacy not much of a luxury entertained amongst them. The dialing tone was heard, it rang and rang until it didn't anymore. He pressed 'call’ again, but the rings were never interrupted by a voice, no voicemail either.

Taehyung wasn't nervous, it was all perfect as far as he was concerned.

“You pathetic liar!” The man yelled, fists clenching in fury.

“Hey, just because he isn't picking up his phone doesn't mean I'm a liar. I don't lie.”

The man stormed towards him again, grabbing his collar. “I'm going to make you bleed you son of a–”

“I'd be careful if I were you.” Taehyung said breathily, but still managed to cut him off.

The man lift his hand to hit him again, but jolted up in shock as the wooden door to the room was broken down with a huge thud .

There stood, in all their glory, Jungkook, Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon. Taehyung discovered with no little surprise that Jimin followed right behind along with the buff family goons.

Yoongi scrunched his nose as soon as he entered the room.

“Well fuckers, party's over.”


The crowd of veiled people huddled closer while chanting loudly, asking for a miracle as the big goons spread throughout the house and started destroying everything they laid their eyes on. Some of the men, along with Hoseok picked the robed members up one by one, shooting them in the head not bothering to lift veils up or waste any time. Jungkook ran straight towards Taehyung and started unbinding him slowly. Namjoon and Yoongi went further inside the house to check for secret lockers and decor they found pretty and expensive. Jimin took his time with the cult members, slowly slitting their throats with a grin.

Taehyung admitted he looked incredibly good doing so.

The man interrogating Taehyung still stood planted to the ground, everything around him happening too fast for him to keep up. He opened and closed his mouth, gaping like a fish. Only minutes ago he had been envisioning the number of ways he could use to painfully sacrifice the intruder to the Light, and now he stood there in a pool of blood of his own brethren dropping like flies.

Jungkook rubbed at Taehyung's wrists, eyes glistening. He was sad that he had to agree to this plan of Taehyung's, that Taehyung got bound so tight. A scratch on Taehyung hurt his heart and he'd have wallowed if he could, but then he saw Taehyung's face.

His bruised face.

All semblance of sadness and worry left his eyes instantly, his glistening eyes froze the unshed tears within. His face turned stoic but his lips opened to let out shaky breaths, heaves. His eyes widened but narrowed at the edges, and Taehyung saw the predator jump out right in front of his eyes.

The fire in his eyes, like a deer peering through a forest fire.

Sharp and terrified at the same time, primal survival instincts. So wild Taehyung knew he'd fall in love if he just stared at that fire long enough.

“You're hurt.”

Jungkook said through bated breath, a hand slowly caressing the other's bruised lip. And even amidst the lovely gesture Jungkook looked like he lived to kill, and killed he has not in a long while.

“Who did this?”

Taehyung did not waste time before pointing to the man who had frozen in time, watching everything unfold with his repulsive, repulsive eyes.

Jungkook did not utter another word, all his senses now dulled down by the only feeling of bloodlust. The man did not react immediately when he pulled at his robe, but when he did register he was being attacked, it was too late.

Jungkook shoved the man into the ground, into the pool of blood. The man felt the sharp pain of pressure on his ear and skull, while the taste of blood invaded his agape mouth. Jungkook smashed the cartilage of the ear under his foot, and slowly but surely increased the pressure. He shifted his weight bit by bit to his foot, and watched in pleasure when the man screamed. His eyes grinned when his body convulsed, shaking like a fish out of water. His heart swelled when he heard the bone cracking under his feet. He lifted his foot for a second, only to hit the man's skull right after with full force. The skull gave in, he knew it did, but Jungkook could not stop. Would not.

He pressed his foot over the skull again and stood on it, the blood curling screams now satisfyingly dead. Blood trickled down every hole the face of the man sported, along with all the other fluids thick with the remnants of organic solids. Taehyung didn't know he had been not breathing, and only gasped loud when the man's pupils finally reduced to a tolerable state. Even with the blood trickling out of them, his eyes still felt more bearable than the fucked up state they had been in.

The skull looked practically flattened, and Jungkook slowly stepped down. The blood looked beautiful to him, even when mixed with all other sorts of fluids. He returned to his senses only to find everyone in the room staring at him.

Taehyung looked at him with a smile. Fuck he looked gorgeous even with a bruised lip and a swollen jaw, Jungkook thought. He went back to him, uncaring of the others’ stares on the both of them.

“I told you, see how you got hurt?” Jungkook spoke, voice cracking up a bit, as he caressed Taehyung's face softly like a feather. It was amazing to see his transformation.

“I'd do anything for you Jungkook. Anything.” Taehyung replied, looking at the other straight in the eye. And deep inside he realized with much, much horror in his heart that he wasn't entirely lying.

“We found the accounts.” Namjoon interrupted their moment. Yoongi held up some papers.

“Documents and everything.” He smiled. “We got our shit back.”



“Who thought you could be this reckless?”

The words jumped off the dark walls and painted windows, only to disturb his ears further with varying intensities. Not like he liked the voice any better in it's original form.

The oakwood furniture in the room, the dimmed lights only providing enough to make out figures, he hated everything all of a sudden. He only wanted to get away, to claim the calm he deserved. But no, boxy grins followed him everywhere, walking straight out of his nightmares.

He hated boxy smiles.

He firmly placed gripped the armrest of his chair to get his hands to stop shaking. That did not quite work, since his teeth clattered against each other and there was no cold that invaded him.

“Oh wait, you actually can be reckless, I know. But Chanyeol? Damn him.”

He whimpered against his tight lips, trying to kill it inside his voice chords but damn it stumbled out. Tears formed in his eyes, but he promised to not let them fall, to himself, and to the one that's gone.

“You did not need nine hundred and fifty million to keep the cult going. Tell me Baek, were you just reckless or maybe you two love birds had other plans?”

The voice was patronizing and lazy, as if any attempt at 'other plans’ would be dissipated on it's own. Like the false hopes in his hearts had no happy ending.

And they didn't.

He still kept his mouth shut, whimpering from time to time. The room fell dead silent in the darkness, but unfortunately Baekhyun could still see the other, placing his legs one on top of the other on the table. Patiently, expectantly waiting for an answer.

But Baekhyun still tried. He always tried.

“Open your talking hole up, Baekie .” He flinched at the nickname, and slowly looked up to the other's face. He knew the other was grinning even though he could not see it clearly.

The other huffed. “You know you'd end up dead if it weren't for me?”

He still did not speak.

“Oh c'mon now! I had to book emergency tickets to fly here! You should have seen how mad Jungkook was when I said I was leaving for Japan, maybe then you could have seen how much trouble you always put me through. He hasn't let me out of his sight ever since your little cult member tried fucking up my face, which is very rude of him I must say. But anyway, Baek, speak.”

Baekhyun did not know what to feel, and what exactly to say. It's not like the other didn't know everything already, but he still wanted to hear him talk. Yes, that was it, Taehyung just wanted to hear him talk.

“Fine then, you don't want to talk to me. I guess you'd rather have the families deal with you. Jimin would gladly carve your face up, if that's what you want. He'd probably give me a little kiss when I hand you over, not much bad of a deal.”

Baekhyun was hyperventilating. No, he did not want to talk to Taehyung ever again. But he had seen what happened to Chanyeol, unfortunately so, and as miserable as it is he still loved his life.

“! No, please… I'll talk.”

“Good, there cannot be settlements without conversations. I maybe tired of cleaning up your shit but hey, let's listen. What was the idea?” Taehyung asked, still patronizing and sharp as ever.

“Escape. Yes, that was it… Channie wanted us...t-to have a new beginning. We were planning to escape.”

“And so he decided it would be a good idea to steal all that shit right out of the lion’s den.” Taehyung shook his head. “This is why you should talk to me before pulling off such stunts. I'm not called the brains of the group for nothing!”

A silence engulfed them again, as Baekhyun pondered over what he said. Taehyung did help him out when he got himself into deep shit, but most of the times Taehyung was the one who started said shit anyway.

“Why'd you want to escape?”

Taehyung suddenly asked, and Baekhyun was inclined to say a lot of things. How he did not want to have anything to do with the word 'cult’ or how he just wanted a normal existence, but he did not know where to begin.

After all he never complained for all these years, so he did not know how to suddenly assert his condition.

Chanyeol… he missed him. He showed him how he did not deserve to be controlled and used, how he shouldn't be a slave to anybody. Baekhyun liked listening to Chanyeol, listening to the plans he had for them, for their future together away from the cause of all their troubles.

The fucking families.

But then Chanyeol was gone, abruptly and horribly, and Baekhyun knew all of it was too good to be true. He wasn't allowed such happiness, he didn't deserve a carefree existence. That's what he had been made to believe.

“I offered you a stable job as Barboda, paid you tons and guaranteed you protection. And that's what you go off and do, Baek? What were you expecting? Chanyeol and you'd have a happy life with tons of kids, maybe? You cannot escape the families, nobody ever has. I'm not even going to talk about how betrayed I feel.”

Baekhyun wiped at his eyes as they stung bad. No, he would never cry.

“Why?”, He mumbled. “Why are you talking like you actually give a shit about me Taehyung?”

Taehyung widened his eyes. “Because I do, Baekhyun! You have always been my most trusted employee. I'd have never given up my cult to just about anyone!.”

His tone of voice turned playful at the end, and Baekhyun wanted to cry even more. Cry at his fate, cry at his face.

“You know,” Taehyung spoke again, voice now lowering. “When I first started saying shit like divinity and sex should be all and the same, Namjoon was teaching me the importance of influence. It stuck in my head you know, the art of hacking brains? I was never serious about the cult, it was all an experiment fo me. Tried my values at a group of people.” Taehyung giggled. It sounded venomous to Baekhyun.

“But oh well, they took my light bullshit a bit too seriously I guess. Barboda they called me, I laughed so hard thinking about it,” Taehyung recounted. “It was some RPG character I don't remember. But it was fun, I wouldn't lie. Having a bunch of people having orgies at your demand is quite fun for a young one.”

“But then it became too much, even for me. They were becoming creepier, and I couldn't watch over them breeding like rabbits on heat anymore. And that is why I got you to take over for me. I trusted you that much, Baekhyun, to take care of something I created with so much investment. That cult made you so powerful, earned you so much money, and this is how I get repaid?”

Baekhyun did not reply. What'd he say, none of what Taehyung said was false. As a cult leader he had much power and the incentives that came were ridiculously generous. A tiny feeling of guilt did surface up in his chest amidst all the resentment.

“Well Baekhyun, I guess you made your escape after all. There is no cult left for you to lead anymore. I had to destroy it by my own hands, the thing that I brought to life. It broke my heart. You… broke my heart Baek.”

Taehyung stood up, his tall figure seemed taller to Baekhyun at the dimmed lighting.

“It was fun while it lasted. Now,” Taehyung's eyes got narrower as his voice turned devious. “I do not know what to do with you anymore.”

Baekhyun bit his lip to prevent a cry from escaping. He knew he had been used all his life, but the announcement of it hit hard in his heart. Moreover the fact that he actually had lost his functionality somehow further aggravated him.

“Why, Tae?” He cried, a single drop of tear slipping away. “Why me? Why'd you ruin my life? Why did it have to be me?”

Taehyung gave him a questioning look, as if asking him if he was being serious. When he saw Baekhyun spilling tears, he knew he was dead serious, and that made his face contort in disbelief.

Why , you ask.” Taehyung gritted his teeth. He stepped forward, leaning over the table so Baekhyun could catch a clear glimpse of his face.

“Remember how you said a freak like me should never look like you? When everybody said we looked alike?”

Baekhyun remembers well, he regrets it even better.

So this is all about that.

About the bullying.

“You used to hit me hard just because I looked like you. You said you'd never want to look like a monster, so you hit me. Trying to make my face different, as you used to say.”

Taehyung gave him a maniacal grin.

“Tell me Baekhyun, do you regret it now? Do you regret having that face?”

Baekhyun let out an ugly sob, all of his efforts going down the drain.

“Trust me, I didn't make an elaborate plan to get revenge on you, Baek. But you simply happened to be there, you simply happened to look like me, and you simply happened to like sex quite a lot. It all fit perfectly together Baek, you were made for this, it was your destiny. But look at you now, as useless as your fourteen year old self.”

Taehyung stood straight, adjusting his coat.

“I hope there's no bad blood between us. You could stay in this hideout for as long as they don't happen to find you. I can convince Yoongi to let you stay here, as a last favor.” Taehyung said. “Or you could always kill yourself, that is a handy option.”

He spoke as a matter of fact, no unnecessary emotions clouding his voice. He had never ever cared for anyone, Baekhyun knew. But it stung still, stung a lot. He knew what he'd done was wrong, and Taehyung's payback was far fetched but still it stung that he felt so useless that the only literally useful thing he could do right now is kill himself. The sudden realization made him desperate to hold on to his pride, if any of it was left. He needed to get it off his chest, something he had never thought he would have the courage to say. But as he saw Taehyung walk towards the exit with the most condescending glare on his face, Baekhyun knew he would say it, dent his pride even for a moment, say what would hit him.

“You know,” he hissed. “You know exactly why you were bullied.”

Taehyung did halt in his steps, and Baekhyun waited. Waited for him to do something reckless. Hit him perhaps, or pull out a gun? Or maybe yell at him?

But Taehyung only gave him a sad smile, fake sympathy seeping through without even trying to be subtle. Like he was looking at a sick person about to die, or someone trying hard to claw at their last straw of sanity. Clawing, begging, pleading; while he looked down at them with pity.

Taehyung stomped out of the room, crushing all of Baekhyun's pride as he did so.

Chapter Text

“Drink up I'm soaked, I'm like the dopest dope you'd ever smoke…”


“...Yes, yes. Right there,” Jungkook directed the workers while Taehyung lingered behind the kitchen counter eyeing his movements.

The replica seemed frighteningly akin to the actual work, all the scars and spots radiating resemblance. Taehyung was not fond of scars or the process of waning away in general, and the statue downright mocked his conclusion. It was at some point in the night laced with tangled limbs and numerous innuendos that Jungkook had said something along the lines of Ronin and his genius. And Taehyung had agreed. He could appreciate art where it stood, could enjoy it's presence when it's not out of place. The sweet disturbance induced by art was dear to him; and Ronin could disturb him all too well.

But the anxiety caused by this particular piece was not of sweet leverage to his mind, it was the gut wrenching one. The one that squeezed at the ribs forming an illusion of nausea. It perturbed him for real. He let out a deep sigh, of everything Jungkook could have chosen from, out of all the outstanding pieces that owe their credits to Ronin; he just had to chose the Monument to Balzac.

From the moment he had eyed the Balzac in a convention as a kid he had been terrified of it. At first due to the sheer ripening visage of it, and then gradually, eventually as he grew older, due to the sharp vision of the sculpture. As if it could see right through him, leave him absolutely bare. Such intricately was the genius of the man brought to life in the piece that Taehyung would often cower, hide away from the wisdom. It appeared so tall and sturdy and yet so fluid, and Taehyung hated to admit how insecure it made him feel.

Jungkook settled the piece beside the stairs, in perfect range from every angle. To Taehyung it almost felt comical how the Balzac's enlightened eyes rove over the couch where only shame and depravity remains at the inhabitants’ wake. Taehyung did consider Jimin an inhabitant. It would be fun to sense the awkwardness in him finding the statue of an old man gazing down at him while he tried getting it on with any of them.

The men left, leaving a pondering Jungkook and a pensive Taehyung after them. Pensive he was for sure, but looking at Jungkook admiring the piece was such a soothing view.


Numerous bottles of Champagne shone under the yellow glow of the kitchen lights, and yet the rosé gold Dom Pérignon 1959 stood out the most.  And while Taehyung could not stomach the sculpture, he did have much regard for the novelist Balzac himself, and only the vintage flavor of the Dom Pérignon matched the occasion. He grabbed two flutes for pouring the sweet goodness in, and while he did he looked at Jungkook standing tall by the statue, as though comparing the amount of power they both held. Taehyung knew Jungkook had the ability to hold so much more power than he gave himself credit for. He could own the world with the kind of fire he held, but alas, it was a controlled ablution that held him back.

Taehyung is going to change that.

Jungkook is going to have all of the power he rightfully deserves, and Taehyung will set his fire free.

He walked up to Jungkook, and offered him a flute.

“Champagne at eleven a.m.? You're spoiling me,” Jungkook let out a light scoff, but accepted the flute nonetheless.

“We've got Ronin in our house, love. Surely the routine shall change from now on,” Taehyung said. He sipped on the drink, the sweet Chardonnay instantly making him resist a moan. The dark vintage and the citrus of the fruits blended so perfectly it took all of his insecurities away in a moment. Good, he found a way to counteract Balzac from the get go.

Jungkook did not complain. He too silently sipped on his wine. Surely one of his favorite champagnes of them all.

“I don't understand though,” Taehyung said, eyeing the monument as Jungkook played with the fabric of his soft gown.

“Why'd you suddenly decide on a sculpture?” he asked, looking at Jungkook curiously.

“What? I like it that's all.” Jungkook answered, not looking at him. He marvelled at the number of exquisite gowns Taehyung owned. They were robes to be exact, and were royal to the touch. Jungkook simply kept to wearing more t-shirts and casual pants in the house, but Taehyung would always look extravagant. Ethereal and completely extra. It suited him, Jungkook concluded; and why would he complain at the more exposed skin anyway?

“Nah. You wouldn't move a muscle without purpose. Just like your dad,” Taehyung said, smiling. “I do like it about you, despise it about your dad.”

Jungkook let out a sweet laughter, as sweet as the beautiful wine.

“You do not like that he breathes.”

“That is correct,” Taehyung stated. “But also,” he turned to face Jungkook, thereby moving closer to his face.

“I'm the whimsical one in this household.” His voice lowered. “Can't have two queens.”

Jungkook chuckled softly, looking at the other with his undivided attention. His eyes sparkled better than the golden liquid in his hand and Taehyung loved it.

“You could say I am trying to capture a moment— our moment.”

Our moment? Good to know our moment is a wrinkled old man.”

Jungkook playfully rolled his eyes before looking at the monument again.

“I guess I wanted to remember the very first thing we bonded over— art and Ronin.”

A small smile played on his lips as he spoke, and Taehyung admired the view.

“That's… actually pretty thoughtful of you Kook,” he said. He felt the blooming admiration at the gesture in his heart, even if it was Balzac, Jungkook sealed their bonding time beautifully. The sculpture suddenly felt a lot less intimidating.

“Does this please you?” Jungkook asked with all of the stars in his eyes.

“Well there could be better choices though, Kook,” Taehyung said with a smirk. “I mean, no offense but Balzac looks scary.”

Jungkook paused in the process of bringing his flute to his lips.

“What do you mean? It's an exquisite work of art!” he exclaimed.

“Sure it is. It's just— I don't know I feel stupid really, but I do not like the maturity on his face. It holds proof of just how much a person can go through by the time his life ends, and somehow it scares me.” Taehyung said, and looked at Jungkook intently.

“We can all bear so much, Kook. It scares me how strong a person can be.”

“...Tae,” Jungkook whispered, and cupped his cheeks with his palms, the drink discarded on the table.

“I know what you mean.”

Taehyung had no idea how he could possibly know what he meant, for he was convinced it did not make sense. But Jungkook said he understood— and Taehyung suddenly felt confronted by his own thoughts. Did he himself understand what he meant?

“Its scary, yes; but it is still a beautiful process. I mean, the shit we go through can turn us into something completely different, for better or for worse. Think about it, if someone's been documenting a person's life, and all the processes that changes them, what a marvelous journey they'd see!”

Jungkook said, looking at the piece.

“Do you think Balzac always looked like this? So fierce and wise?”


“Right. He had been a child, naive and curious. He must have had an eventful youth where his eyes sparkled bright. He might have been loved and then left, anything you can think of. Don't you think the entire process that made him into this wise visionary must be wonderful? It might be scary, but look what it creates. Art.”

Taehyung looked at the sculpture again, and suddenly he could see millions of stories come to life. A naive child, a youth in love, a confused speaker. He could have been crushed to the ground, or might have been destroyed by power. The imagination made the process even better as Taehyung slowly walked towards it, and ran his fingers along the lines on the face. With every glide of his finger his fear melted slowly. Yes, the process looked wonderful, the shit and dirt only looked like an agent of the bigger picture. The whole life of Balzac came together in one piece; indeed the sculpture held all of what he had been through, what made him so imperial in his stance; but Taehyung no longer felt scared. Only the beauty remained, and his lips widened in a smile as he took it in his heart.

His smile did not falter in the slightest as he looked back at Jungkook, who was eyeing him expectantly. His reaction was instant; he sighed in relief and his shoulders slackened.

What a wonderful human being.

Jungkook intrigued Taehyung more and more, to the point Taehyung did not know where all his smiles emerged from when he looked at the other. He had simply dismissed him as being vain when he first met him, and while vain he sure was, he was turning out to be much more exciting.

So Goddamn wonderful.

“I like when you smile, Tae,” Jungkook's voice interrupted his line of thought, and Taehyung instantly broke into another smile. Jungkook deserved it.

He stepped closer to where Taehyung stood.

“I'd do anything to make you smile.” he said, breathing down his neck. “I want to make you happy.”

“You say things too casually, Kook.” Taehyung said, slowly closing whatever distance remained between them.

“Things change under certain... situations.”

Taehyung hissed against his neck, and instantly pulled away. He playfully winked at the other who was disappointed at the sudden lack of proximity, and walked back towards the counter to refill his flute.

Jungkook could school him when it came to art, but Taehyung still had a reputation to maintain as the smart one. So he'd own him with simple philosophy, it was only fair.

“Whatever you mean?” Jungkook asked, walking close behind.

“You'd do anything to make me smile,” Taehyung mimicked, earning a frown from the other. “Screw my smile, you cannot even guarantee my safety in certain situations.” he said, quickly jumping over the kitchen counter to sit over it.

Jungkook trapped him by placing each of his hands on either side of Taehyung, and pressing his body onwards in a challenge. Taehyung hardly took notice of it.

“What situations?” Jungkook asked, his voice low and challenging.

“I'll tell you. But first let us play a game.”


“No it'll be important. So listen close.” Taehyung said. His eyes narrowed down on the other, but an affectionate smile remained on his face, which Jungkook returned.

“So I'll ask you about the good old trolley car riddle. You are in a trolley car, and you're on railway tracks. You are driving ahead, when you notice five workers working on the tracks up ahead— your brakes stop working, and your voice doesn't reach them.”

“Morbid.” Jungkook replied with no particular expression.

“I cannot say your lack of empathy doesn't bother me, but okay let's continue. You cannot stop the car, but you can swerve to another track; there's a diversion. But you notice a single worker working on that track as well. No matter which track you chose to move to, people are going to die, either one or five. So Jeon Jungkook, who would you kill?”

“You have a strange obsession with me killing people.”

“That is a sexy view I must say. But answer my question!” Taehyung exclaimed.

Jungkook thought for not much long before replying, “I'd kill the single worker and save the five.”

“So it's a matter of numbers to you.”

“I guess so.” Jungkook pondered over. “I got to save more people at the cost of one life. It would fit right with my conscience.”

Taehyung looked at him for a long moment before his lips curled into a smirk. He was still the smartest.

“That's cool.” Taehyung said sipping his wine. “Now let's talk about situations, shall we?”

“Let's hear it.” Jungkook moved closer and looked him straight in the eye, a bit of his predator instincts flashing by.

“What if that single worker on the tracks was me ?” Taehyung asked, his eyes dancing in mischief.

Jungkook looked at him hard, his tongue poking against his inner cheek.

“I'd kill those other five in a heartbeat.”

Taehyung's smirk widened.

Oh interesting— but I never said you knew that the one worker was me.”

Jungkook remained silent, but his expression hardened than before.

“What if you think logically, choose to preserve the numbers and run that single worker over feeling good about yourself— only to realize you have killed me?” Taehyung asked, his fingers now playing at the other's chest, as if trying to measure the quickening heartbeat.

“That is not a situation … that is just—” Jungkook trailed off, not knowing what to say next. What would be that situation where he actually ends up killing Taehyung? He did not want to think about it.

Taehyung pretended to be in deep thought.

“Alright then, I'll give you a real dilemma. You know that the single worker on the other track is me. But you also know—,” Taehyung paused, and looked at him with the tinge of maniacal grin on his face.

“— that one of the five workers working on the track is Jimin.”

Jungkook suddenly felt an uneasy chill run down his spine.

“Now, Jungkook. What'd you do?”

Jungkook knew he would be in a tight spot one of these days, considering he really had to end up choosing one of them. Jimin had been a constant in his life, he did not ever feel the need to think of a time where he'd have to let him go. Having Jimin by his side was what felt natural to him, like the presence of a wedding ring. It's presence is not always noticed, but it's absence would be annoyingly felt all the time. He was naturally important to him, but if a situation arose where he had to chose—

Taehyung, the one he had just promised to make happy at the cost of anything. He had completely turned Jungkook's life around in the span of a couple weeks. Though at the beginning of it all he had never thought just how fucking important Taehyung would start to feel to him. It had only been extreme infatuation and obsession at first, but with the passage of days there was an enormous feeling blooming in his chest at the sight of the other. An inexplicable happiness at the sight of him smiling.

Jungkook doesn't remember the last time he felt this happy. Maybe he had never been this happy in his entire life.

He knew who he'd choose, but the little hesitation in his head was bothering him bad.

“I'd still choose you.”

He said, but his voice lacked the predatory depth he sported so well. Somewhere in his head Jimin's eyes popped up, and Jungkook seriously just wanted to escape the situation at that moment.

“Think again, love. Once you choose directions you cannot go back.”

“... it's fine. I told you I'd choose you.”

“Beautiful,” Taehyung said, smiling. But the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. A strained smile with words behind them that would sure taste bitter in it's wake.

“So you continue on ahead, Jungkook— towards the group of five. You're nearing them by the second. And right before you hit them, Jimin looks back and notices you.”

“I think we're over here, Taehyung.” Jungkook said and turned to walk back. But Taehyung gripped his arm hard, and pulled him back into place. His smile was gone, and his eyes sharpened at Jungkook as he told him to listen.

“He sees you speeding. He knows you're going to hit them. He doesn't have much time to react, nor do you have much time to study his reaction. But at the last moments he looks at you straight in the eyes, Kook, looking for help, so so terrified with his scared, scared eyes…”

Jungkook widened his eyes in horror as the image came to his head. His throat felt dry as he could almost feel himself hit someone with an enormous force. It was unusual for him to feel this way, for killing never felt hard to him in any way before. But when the time came, could he kill Jimin so easily?

“Do you regret it now? Not changing directions?” Taehyung asked slowly, searching Jungkook's eyes for an answer.

And when he received his answer clearly displayed in the terror in Jungkook's eyes, his heart unusually felt heavy.

Jungkook fished for an answer. Of course killing Jimin seemed hard. But would he regret saving Taehyung? Could he kill Taehyung instead? Jungkook did not want to know anymore. His head started to hurt.

“...Kookie? Kook?”

The voice suddenly sounded distant to him, but Jungkook knew it was Taehyung's, sitting just inches away from him.


“Relax love,” Taehyung playfully giggled. The ripples of his laughter bought Jungkook back again to his feet, like he had just been awoken from a trance. Taehyung seemed closer than before, and he had to collect himself before the slight concern in Taehyung’s eyes started to grow.

“I'm not asking you to kill anybody, not just yet.” Taehyung chuckled again. “It's just a little dilemma game I like. But Jungkook,” his voice softened.

“Be careful as to what you say alright? Words carry weight after all.”



The walls surrounding the huge mansion had always looked the exact same to Jungkook ever since he was a kid. No matter how tall or strong he grew, the walls always overwhelmed him, not necessarily in a bad way. It almost felt like they shielded him away from an unknown world with their age old wisdom and judgement. Jaebin would always take to the walls to remind Jungkook of exactly how small he was, and even at the age of twenty three, as his car proceeded parallel to them to enter the lands he should call his own, he felt small still.

They intimidated him, and he accepted that. Over time he had grown to revere those walls, respect their purpose, and accepted how small he was compared to them. Jaebin would never leave a stone unturned to make him feel small, and though Jungkook had already invented ways to negate the effect, the process was always still difficult.

The Ashton Martin V8 Vantage slowly entered the iron gates, where all the climbers were fostered for the look of it. The wide pavement lit up with the headlights, and Jungkook slowly rolled his window down as the car sped up. The wind hit him, and the smell of freshly mowed grass with it, as though welcoming him back home. Jungkook would have smiled had he not been conditioned enough.

Had it not been nighttime or had the headlights of his car shone upon a bigger realm, Jungkook would have been forced to look upon the extremely weird statues spread throughout the huge garden. He had always been repulsed by them, avoided them to the point he'd avoid the garden altogether. He did not know their purpose, for most part he believed they did not have any; but his father seemed to worship them. He exercised weird choices like nobody's business, but what pleasure did the caricature of what looked like a crushed human carcass brought him was incomprehensible to Jungkook. He averted his eyes when they involuntarily roamed to the spots they were placed in, and upon slightly making out the silhouette of them he had already had enough. No, he could never like them.

It would seem like the entire landmark sported stuff he could never like, and that was very intentional. He knew that much.

The long pavement came to an end to lead to the huge mansion he'd like to think of as his home. It was still minimally lightened, another aspect Jungkook never liked, but Jaebin was unusually paranoid. Jungkook would have loved to see white lights shining on the ripples of the pool, maybe skinny dipped in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep; but that only could be a part of his imagination as Jaebin would lock all 'unnecessary’ spots of the household up as soon as the sun set.

The walls looked as white as he remembers, with the glass always thickly curtained. Specks of light escaped through some careless cracks and Jungkook could only sigh. He looked up at where his room used to be. There were no lights on in the room, guess it was reduced to another 'unnecessary’ spot after all.

As his driver and the valet dismissed themselves he slowly walked up to the large oak door leading to the mansion. Jaebin would never conform to the 'new ways’; would always brag about how his oak door protected him better than any modern face recognition or finger password technique. His most trusted Butler would always answer the door, and it depended entirely on him whether or not the person seeking entrance deserves it.

Jungkook waited. He did not have to knock, it was out of the protocol. There were eyes always watching everything surrounding the house, and the owner would instantly know of one's arrival the moment they crossed the gates.

Sungmin, the old Butler opened the door for him, breaking his line of thought. The old man gave him a huge smile and pulled him in for a quick hug, but did not speak a word. Jungkook smiled as well, he had missed the humane touch of the seemingly morbid household. It was hardly morbid in all truthfulness, and Jungkook was very much loved; probably not by the ones he expected it of but he was loved nonetheless. The way Sungmin’s eyes sparkled was not lost on him, and he felt thankful.

The hall felt smaller than he'd remembered. Sure, the hall in his penthouse was smaller than the mansion’s yet for some reason it had felt larger before. The chandelier sparkled in silver, and the white walls with the silver furniture would seem like a fairytale to anybody. Sungmin did not stop or ask him to sit. He didn't have to, it was still Jungkook's home. Yet again, the protocol. He was to bring the young master to his father, those were his instructions, and he'd do exactly that.

They passed the silvery hall into the long corridor, and finally reached the dining hall. It was smaller than the main hall but still huge to boot. The walls there were beige, and almost entirely covered in paintings. The wallpapers on one of the walls was the only modernity his father ensured, and Jungkook actually liked it that way. The classic feel to the house was appreciable, and he'd always liked it. Guess he was his father's son after all.

The young maids and butlers stood around the sandalwood table in sheer reverence as his father sat himself on the end of the table, looking all important. Sungmin nudged Jungkook forward, and all of the workers somehow slackened their shoulders a bit. They wanted to dote on the young master, welcome him home; but they were strictly ordered not to. It was painful to not appreciate his presence, and their eyes had adherence amongst all the other things. So they tried to establish their appreciative gesture as subtly as they could, and thankfully it was not lost on Jungkook.

Jaebin puckered his lips and waved his hands, full pomp in display. The workers immediately strutted away from the hall, along with Sungmin. They disappeared from the dining hall in seconds.

Jungkook stood there with no particular effort to show respect to his father. He was supposed to, but he was being dangerously reckless. He had been defying his old man a lot , lots more than he had ever had before. A strange defiance has been planted on him, giving him 'the push’ he had needed. And he knew it was all Taehyung. Whatever had been growing on him, that is.

And so no matter the outcome of this meeting, which he just knew could never be good, he'd stop kissing his dad's ass. Being a rebel had always been his destiny, he had known this; and when he could finally act towards it he felt liberated like never before.

“Take a seat.” Jaebin subtly pointed towards the adjacent chair. The meal was already prepared and served, and Jaebin started digging in without a care.

Jungkook did so. He skipped over the meal and poured himself wine instead. He could not recognize it, which was surprising but he could appreciate the flavor. Not too shabby.

“It's been more than a month since you got married.” Jaebin cut a piece of meat with his knife.

Jaebin had meat and toasts together. Odd fuck.

“I guess,” Jungkook spoke for the first time. The hall felt awfully quiet, and Jungkook felt foreign in his own skin.

“Taehyung treating you nice?”

“He's wonderful.”

Jaebin pulled the fork out of the grip of his teeth slowly, letting the metallic taste blend in while he stared hard at his son.

“Much too wonderful it would seem.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Jungkook didn't mean to sound weak or small. But somehow Jaebin's face contorted into a sinister look which had him sweating. All the more now that Taehyung was mentioned.

Jaebin reached for something inside his pocket. What he pulled out looked like tickets to somewhere.

“There. A week long trip to Okinawa. Should be enough for what you call a honeymoon.”

Jungkook had actually begun to wonder when the prospect of a honeymoon would so up. It wasn't like Jaebin would give up a chance on being extravagant about it. If he were to be completely honest Jungkook was almost disappointed at the choice. Not like Okinawa was not an exotic location, but he had thought of somewhere outside Asia.

“...Thank you.”

“Now let's discuss business. There'd be a shipment to Okinawa the next day of your arrival. The payment would be made the moment you check the turf. It would take a moron to mess this one up, but I wouldn't trust you.”

Of fucking course.

“You didn't have to disguise it as a honeymoon trip.” Jungkook sipped on his wine and tried to lay ease. It usually took him enormous amount of preparation even to suggest something to his father, but as of now he was effectively talking back. He had been very reckless and extremely out of line, but there was no way he would regret any of it.

He was slowly recognizing his power, and he only had one man to thank.

“Are you questioning me?”

“Who knows.”

“Is that audacity fed by your husband?”

Jungkook ignored his question even when his nerves had been acting up for a while. There was a slight shiver he could pinpoint in his limbs, but he was too far gone to really care.

The audacity indeed.

“Why did you not invite him tonight?” He asked instead.

“This is strictly a Jeon business, son,” Jaebin said, eyes hardening but face as stiff as ever. There was no way he would give Jungkook the pleasure of seeing him bothered; he was too paranoid to be vulnerable.

Sadly he accepted that fact like his very nature.

“Taehyung is a Jeon too.”

Jaebin could not help letting out a scoff.

“Bullshit. You think I'd just trust anyone with my name?”

“You chose him yourself.”

“Now I'm starting to see it was a bad decision.”

Jungkook had been incredibly reckless, he knew. But now he was just downright gambling with his luck.

“It's the best decision you've ever made for me.”

A tensed silence fell over the table. Jaebin did not look up at him, instead he cleared his voice and looked straight ahead; posturing himself like the king that he is.

“Do not forget who you are talking back to boy.”

And that was it for Jungkook. He had been painfully whiny anyway, might as well go all the way and empty himself.

“Why? I'm your fucking son and heir. Who are you going to listen to if not me?” Jungkook asked, looking straight into his father's eyes with a raised voice. He does not remember the last time he had talked to him eye to eye, and damn does it feel good.

He must have been high without his knowledge.

Well… if the tightness he'd started feeling in his muscles is anything to go by.

Jaebin looked calm, too calm for being snapped at. He would never take being snapped at lightly, and when Jungkook's guts cramped up did he know something was terribly off.

A pathetic gasp left his mouth as horrible cramping started kicking in. Jungkook felt like his rectum was turning into mush, trying to force itself out along with all his bowels. His ass was burning, and even with the cold conditioned air he saw droplets of sweat disappearing on to his lap.

Jungkook could not move his legs anymore, they had horribly stiffened up even with the shiver still present. All of his nerves stopped responding while his muscles relaxed alarmingly, especially below his intestines. Jungkook needed to hurry to the bathroom lest he should shit himself, but as soon as he tried getting off the chair his legs gave away.

He fell down with a thud, and yet felt no pain nowhere. There was only the horrible cramping that wanted him to release shit, but even so there was nothing that was released. Jungkook's whole body started convulsing terribly, and when he tried to call out for help his throat felt like it had narrowed down.

He had a hard time breathing, speaking was out of the question. And even at this situation a thought passed by his rather thick skull.

He should have known.

It's not like it was the first time he was being put into his place.

He shook violently like a fish out of water, all of his nerves giving up. His eyes frantically moved around looking for Sungmin, or anyone else for that matter, even at his father.

Jaebin had effectively ignored him like he did not exist, stuffing his mouth with toast. He did not cast a look down to look at him, while Jungkook felt his throat constrict up more and more. He was straight up heaving, and if he was in his senses he would have already known he had pissed himself. It was all a grand scheme to make him look pathetic and helpless, and pathetic and helpless he was. The croaking sounds he made only reverberating as a proof to that fact.

Jaebin looked down when the piss had started to bother him. He scrunched his nose slightly while still maintaining his smirk. It must have been so satisfying, Jungkook felt, to hold that power over someone one fears. Yes, Jungkook knew Jaebin feared him, and the extreme power he held right now was a mere reassurance.

After all he was extremely paranoid. Paranoid his son would take everything away from him.

Jungkook had always hated him to the point of murder but never had the push to pull through. He hated him when he stopped referring to him by his name and called him a pathetic coward instead. He hated when he would take the little control Jungkook had over his turf away from him when he felt like he had become a threat to himself. He hated when Jaebin would dose him up with ditropan every time he talked back, tonight was no exception. But never did he feel the push to pull the trigger.

Until tonight that is.

When Jaebin looked down at him and abused his perked up hearing with depravities that included the name Taehyung, when Jungkook heard him saying kill and Taehyung in the same sentence, when he spoke with disdain of how much of a 'mistake’ Taehyung was in his ears, Jungkook felt it even with the chemical slowly numbing everything around him to black.

That fucking push.



Jimin did not know whether the reddening in his eyes and the pounding headache that has him feeling numb resulted from sheer lack of sleep or from holding back tears. He thought it was the former, since he had no excuse to actually cry. It wasn't the first time that Jungkook had ended up in the hospital, it wouldn't be the first time that he ran to him out of breath only to be ushered out by one of the guards. And yet Jimin arrived at the hospital almost dutifully, ready to be told off, even more ready to put up a fight.

The fight in him only accentuated when this

...person in front of the room where Jungkook is kept is not one of the regulars. He was… young and did not look like a guard whatsoever. The big buff men that could hold Jimin back by one hand were nowhere, instead there stood two very young man with moderate muscle power if Jimin assessed correct. Heck, they were probably younger than Jimin.

Jimin advanced towards the room, but a hand stopped him at his chest.

Jimin resisted his temper at the face of such audacity, and looked at the boy sternly.

He roved all over Jimin in a confident stare, reminding Jimin of a certain someone who was probably inside the room now.

Was Taehyung allowed inside the room though? Jeon would issue strict instructions allowing for absolutely nobody whenever Jungkook had to be hospitalized. Jimin would comply, sure, but only after putting up a good fight. But what about Taehyung?

“You cannot go inside.”

The man spoke, startling Jimin out of his train of thought.

“And I should listen to you because?” Jimin fired back. It was probably useless, but Jimin never hesitated when it came to making his presence known.

“Because you have a pretty face the boss wouldn't want to ruin. Only Jeon’s are allowed inside.”

The man said with a shit eating grin that stood awkwardly amidst the dire situation.

The other man did not speak, nor did he move from his position. He was glued to the wall like he belonged there, and his lack of expression was actually frightening.

Not that Jimin cared.

“You do not know who you're talking to.”

“Except I do. The infamous Butcher .”

The man smirked, leaving an infuriated Jimin in its wake. It was not a good idea to call Jimin that, it was not the best idea to rile him up.

Because Jimin is all up for fun and games until he breaks.

“Let me in. Now.” Jimin's eyes narrowed as he spoke. He took a step forward only to collide with a sturdy chest, the man being a tad taller than him. To his surprise the man did not seem phased at all.

Jimin's glares usually worked well, not even Jungkook was completely immune to it. And there stood this man who Jimin had met for the first time, and yet he looked at him eye to eye. The only other person that could do that was Taehyung, and this guy strangely reminded him of Taehyung, and not in a good way.

Much to his own dismay, his surroundings began to move.

Not again.

Sometimes Jimin surprises himself. He gets worked up so bad all of the colors start disappearing. The walls begin blending into the floor and all he could see was a puddle. At moments like these he feels the need to cut . To bring himself back to earth, to ground himself to reality.

Jimin loses himself far too often, and everyone uses that fact to their advantage. He was told how much of an 'animal’ he became, and was praised for it. The coward alive within him was disgusted, but he was a sucker for praise, and somehow his curse didn't seem too bad.

And when Jimin saw the other's eyes slowly change colors, he knew. When the smug confidence in the other melted into confusion and finally morphed into fear, Jimin knew he had lost himself already. He probably looked like a beast right now, snarling and ready to hurt. His eyes must have reddened well, and for all he knew he must be smiling .

But then he was stopped. He felt a pull, until he was swallowed into a hard chest. He felt arms hugging his smaller frame, tight around his waist and nape. He felt nuzzling against his neck, someone was holding him in an embrace.

And it all came back to him. Colors separated and boundaries felt distinct. The hammering against his chest that he had not felt before now started to almost hurt his ribs. He swallowed thickly as he was reminded of Jungkook. Yes, he was here for Jungkook, what the hell happened?

“You're too inconsiderate, Yugyeom.”

The familiar deep voice reverberated throughout his chest as the vibrations filled the air. The voice was too close to his ears, and the breathing erratic against his skin. A familiar scent now invaded his nostrils, a scent he could recognize anywhere.

Jimin hugged back. Tighter. He further sank into Taehyung's chest, wanting nothing more than to disappear into it. He ignored the lump in his throat as he inhaled Taehyung's exhale. It felt like home, finally, after so fucking long.

The man from earlier said something in hushed tones but Jimin did not care. He put his hands on Taehyung's chest, fiddling with the soft satin material of his shirt which strangely calmed him down. He definitely was desperate to see Jungkook, or so he knew; but Taehyung wrapping him up like a cocoon was what he did not know he needed to bad until it was given to him.

“He has every right to see Kook. I don't care what the fuck Jaebin has said. I'm his husband and anyone I deem fit can visit Jungkook.”

His voice was stern, too stern. Jimin could feel the other man cower away from their view, and he felt proud. Proud of himself, proud of Taehyung.

“Plum?”, Taehyung asked in a soft voice. Jimin simply hummed against his chest, the nickname seemingly not bothering him anymore.

“He's okay.”

Jimin knows. Jaebin always made sure Jungkook was okay.

Taehyung pulled away from the hug, yet remained just as close still. Jimin looked up at his face for the first time. His eyes clearly indicated lack of sleep and his hair was unkempt. Concern laced his unusually long face that was heavy with exhaustion.

Jimin felt confused, and a tad anxious.

What had gotten Taehyung so concerned about Jungkook?

Taehyung didn't say a word, instead pulled him inside the room, while maintaining the same closeness. Jimin would be lying if he said he did not enjoy having Taehyung so near to him again. He was suddenly reminded of long summer nights and the cuddles that signified them, but was quickly pulled out of his thoughts as he laid eyes on Jungkook.

He was paler than usual, the color on his cheeks and lips all but gone. He looked at peace still, and his breathing was normal as per the CRO, even though he was yet to gain consciousness. IV drips hugged his arms, and Jimin felt a clench in his heart as he took in his placid form. Jungkook was always supposed to be the hot headed pillar to him, and though it was not the first time Jimin had witnessed him looking so helpless it still hurt the same.

He walked up to the bed, which was relatively uncomfortable by the looks of it. It was funny how small details like that never failed to register themselves even at the face of utter disaster. The dip of the mattress, the fur in the pillows. The gentle pressure of Taehyung's hands on his shoulder and how it was just a tad more reassuring than anything else Jimin has ever had. The stiff plastic of the tool when he sat on it. The way Taehyung's hands move over his arms so gracefully, or the way he tries to mimic the same movement on Jungkook's knuckles on a smaller scale.

Taehyung was being way too affectionate, and if Jimin's subconscious realized it somewhere he promptly chose to ignore it.

“Ditropan. It was in his drink.” Taehyung halted the movements of his fingers only for a slight moment as he spoke, before resuming his actions.

“Didn't know it could get you hospitalized,” Jimin said, slightly surprised at how bitter he sounded. It was probably the pent up anger against Jeon, or the uncanny getting used to the affection from Taehyung. Mayhaps both.

“Anything can hurt you if you know how to use it,” Taehyung said, sighing. “It gets the nerves blocked. Surely it can do bad, bad things to a body.”

Jimin ran his fingers through Jungkook's hair, now matted and nowhere near as fluffy as he's used to.

“Last time it was Ativan,” he said as a matter of fact, voice devoid of emotion or maybe choked with them; who knows.

Taehyung was silent for a long minute. An almost pregnant silence. Jimin was indeed waiting to hear what he had to say.

“So you're telling me,” he finally spoke, arms now only resting on Jimin's shoulders. “This has happened before?”

“Multiple times. Three that I know of.”

“Jimin,” Taehyung spoke, voice now firm. “Why? Why would he drug his own son?”

Jimin did not look at him. He kept staring at Jungkook, reading his face. Reading all that he had been through.

“It's how Jeon disciplined him. Every time he acted out of line he would punish him.”

Jimin spoke calmly, and probably shouldn't have; for Taehyung's hands recoil from his shoulders, all sorts of reassurances revoked.

“And nobody bat an eye.”

“It's not that easy, Tae,” Jimin's voice wobbled as he spoke. “He's the Jeon, no one goes against him. Not even Jungkook does.”

“And what about you?” Taehyung asked, and Jimin could physically feel the harshness in his voice.

“Aren't you supposed to be in love with Jungkook? How the hell were you okay with this happening? More than once at that!”

Taehyung's voice got progressively higher,and Jimin hated to admit that he flinched.

“Jeon would have my head, Taehyung!” Jimin spoke back with equal exasperation. “He...he is not one we can mess with, you'll see for yourself. Even Kook wouldn't dare Tae, how the hell am I supposed to do anything?”

“So you're okay with this, Jimin? Do you even...God do you even know the pain of nerve rupture?” Taehyung effectively yelled, trying hard to contain his voice nevertheless.

Jimin kept quiet. He did not know how he should respond to that question without further aggravating Taehyung. His silence was just as bad, but Jimin absolutely did not know what to answer.

“...I shouldn't have let you in,” Taehyung said through a sigh, irritation clearly etched in his features.

“Don't say that.” Jimin fidgeted on the tool.

“You are still the same, Jimin,” Taehyung scoffed. “Same old coward. Same old runner sprinting at the sight of trouble.”

Jimin had had enough. He clenched his fists as he turned on his tool to face Taehyung in the eye.

“I've been with him through thick and thin,” he said through gritted teeth.

“No, Jiminie, no,” Taehyung said as lowered down to Jimin's level, a bitter smile on his face.

“You're still a coward who cannot stand up for anyone. Not me. Not him. You don't deserve to be here.”

Jimin stood up. “You do not get to decide that.”

“Oh but I do. I'm his lawfully wedded husband and anyone in this whole damn hospital will throw you out if I don't want you here.” Taehyung said. He looked absolutely annoyed, and yet Jimin could feel the gravity of the words.

And the pain that laced them.

He knew Taehyung was right. He knew he was a coward, always had been. And he damn well knew he would be thrown out of the building if Taehyung desired.

“Tae… please.” He said, but he was not sure exactly what he was pleading for.

“No Jimin. I thought you had changed. I thought you cared. But you…,” Taehyung found it hard to form words. “You could never love anyone.”

“Tae… we both know that's not true.” Jimin reached for his hand, but Taehyung brushed past him to sit beside Jungkook.

“Just go Jimin. You'll know when he wakes up. You'll know,” his voice took a bitter turn. “You'll know when it's safe for you to come back and love him again.”

Every word hit Jimin like a train. Probably because each one of them were true. He knew he had abandoned Jungkook in his time of dire need, just like he abandoned Taehyung. He knew he ran away for dear life without thinking of his lovers. There was no point in really listening to it over and over again, it was best if he left.

But still the question lingered.

Why was Taehyung being so frustrated over Jungkook's well being?

He stood still for a few more minutes, studying Taehyung studying Jungkook. Studying how Taehyung's fingers laced with Jungkook's so tight. And how it was not a sight he liked.

Jimin began walking away, there were things to fix.


He looked back to see Taehyung staring at him with no particular expression.

What now?

“You might want to visit your urologist.”

“I have what now?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes as the man on the bed yelled out loud, his eyes wide and more surprised than terrified. He looked no older than twenty in the blue hospital gown, and if his large doe eyes and unkempt visage were anything to go by he'd easily pass for a young teenager.

Jungkook could be cute when he wanted to be.

“Chlamydia. You have it.”


Jungkook's face finally fell after being told for the third time. It wasn't dignified after all. A grown ass educated man getting STIs was something he'd frown upon himself.

“That's what you get for not using protection.” Taehyung adjusted his IV drip.

“But I'm completely fine! I do not feel anything unusual!” Jungkook exclaimed.

“It's Chlamydia, Kook. Not herpes,” Taehyung said in a harsh tone. “There are no major symptoms until it develops into a full blown septis.”

Jungkook gaped at the other. “ way.”

“Congratulations. Now you can practice abstinence for a month.”

“Blame Jimin. He wants to feel me raw he says.” Jungkook scoffs lightly. “Condoms aren't sexy.”

“Well they are sexier than saggy balls. But seriously Jungkook, you guys are not kids.” Taehyung scolded, and Jungkook couldn't help feeling ashamed.

“Well… how did mean I thought I was just getting treated for an overdose. And well... wouldn't you need a urologist to find—”

“They douched you Jungkook. And they are not clueless.”

“Oh... oh, ” suddenly Jungkook could feel the cramps in his lower region.

“Well,” Taehyung spoke softly as he sat down beside him. “At least you're clean now. Take your medication for a week and you're one perfect stallion again.”

“Gosh this is so embarrassing.” Jungkook covered his face with his palms. “I mean I don't even sleep around. I only fuck Jimin and I still get infected.”

“Doesn't matter, Kook. Maybe Jimin sleeps around for all you know.”

Jungkook frowned.

“Do you always just fuck? Never got fucked?” Taehyung asked with a smirk as he pried Jungkook's hands off his face.

Jungkook felt heat crawling up his face. “I… I did at some point. But I don't even remember. Probably was too drunk.”

Why?,” Taehyung emphasized the word while lifting Jungkook's chin to meet his eyes.

“You should be loved.”

Jungkook shook his head. “I'm the leader of a fearful gang. I'm not meant” He looked away.

Taehyung let out a laugh. “You cannot even say bottom without stuttering, Kook. I'm never letting you near my ass, I'm telling you that.”

Jungkook looked at him with wide eyes. “So you're implying…”

“Only after you are completely clean.” Taehyung's voice turned just a tad stern again. “Besides we leave for Okinawa in a week so we're good.”

Jungkook stared at him, looking for answers to questions he did not bother asking.

“That son of a bitch father of yours left the tickets with you. I'm guessing we have to thank him well.”

Taehyung's eyes narrowed on Jungkook, as he gave him a meaningful smile.

And Jungkook knew exactly what he meant.

“We must.”



Namjoon had yet to plan out his schedule for the day. He had only bathed, and as he put on his very casual t-shirt that made him feel just a tad more grounded to earth, he took in the faint scent of detergents. He had always loved it, the freshly washed clothes in the gentle winds of Seoul's autumns. The temparature had begun to steadily drop since the start of October, and with it increased the cold surrounding him.

Taehyung was gone for more than a month now. 'Happily’ married.

It was probably the whisk of the winds or the loud thud of one of the windows, or maybe the sweet detergents really, but he was again reminded of how much colder the house had became since Taehyung left. It was always quiet and peaceful, no drunken dancing to jazz music, no stench of sex to disturb him, no whiny complaining about the bad adventures. Taehyung had always lived so colorfully and carelessly; and even though Namjoon abstained from whatever could destroy his focus he could still enjoy watching. His brother was a window to a world unbeknownst to him. And even when Namjoon could never understand the appeal of it, it was still fascinating to watch.

How the same experiences could give birth to two opposite prospectives, yet none superior to the other.

Namjoon would not admit but Taehyung provided to him the illusion of color. He would never admit how the absence of the illusion had taken a big toll on him.

He would never admit just how much he missed the younger. He would also never admit how his heart beat faster at the sound of the intercom, hoping it would be Taehyung.

But he could admit that he wasn't as disappointed as he thought he would be when the said visitor wasn't Taehyung.

It was Seokjin. And Namjoon was pleasantly surprised.

He still seemed to be cowering into himself, trying to make himself look smaller than he is. He was likely shorter than Namjoon, yet he had a strong built if his wide shoulders were taken into consideration.

Namjoon kept staring at the monitor as Seokjin fidgeted where he stood silently, pushing the button for audio transmission but not saying a word. It was strangely satisfying to look at him constantly looking away from the system to hide himself.

Namjoon probably, subconsciously knew why it was so darn satisfying; but for now he just indulged in the pleasure.

He eventually moved to the door, sensing the other getting frustrated on the other side. Namjoon had no intention of riling him up,and if he did it was due to the force of habit. He needed to get on people's nerves more often than he'd like to admit.

He typed in the password and the door unlocked with a click.

Seokjin flinched at the sound as he looked away instantly. In fact he looked anywhere but at Namjoon, and seemed to be waiting. For sounds to harass his ears.

“Hello, Seokjin.”

Namjoon opened the door wide, as wide as it goes. But Seokjin didn't move; though he did look at him in the eye.

“Come in.” Namjoon ushered, and Seokjin did walk in, a bit too fast Namjoon could say.

“Are you busy right now?” Seokjin asked in a small but clear voice.

“Not yet. Please, have a seat.”

Seokjin took in the surroundings before plopping on the black leather couch that stood beautifully against the perfect white walls and the glass doors. The white almost hurt his eyes,so he averted his gaze to the marble floor.

“Do you drink?” Namjoon's voice boomed from a corner in the huge hall. Seokjin cleared his throat and turned to look at him, but could not spot Namjoon.

“Yeah...yes... mostly wine,” Seokjin said, hoping Namjoon could hear him even though he made no effort to raise his voice.

“Wine it is then.” He heard Namjoon say through a chuckle, still confused where he disappeared to.

Namjoon reappeared soon enough, with two glasses and a bottle of red wine. It was decidedly too soon for wine, but Namjoon felt it was only proper.

For once he wanted to be careless as well.

Seokjin casted his eyes downwards again when Namjoon tried sitting beside him. It was probably nothing, but Namjoon did not want the other to feel uncomfortable, and hence he opted to seat on the adjacent single chair. He poured the wine for the both of them and placed Seokjin's on the table. The other made no move to take the glass, but Namjoon didn't mind.

“I um...come say thanks,” Seokjin said, voice stiff but uncornerned.

“What for, Seokjin?”

“For the money, of course. You guys… re-retrieved our accounts so…”

He trailed off, but managed to convey the message.

“It wasn't just me though. I did the bare minimum.”

Seokjin finally took the glass and moved it round, swirling the liquid carefully not to spill any.

“I cannot visit them.”

“Hm? You visited me though?”

Seokjin looked away. “I...I can you.”

“Oh,” Namjoon dragged the word meaningfully as his voice dropped. “I wonder why that is.”

His face lit up in a smirk as his eyes zeroed down on the other. Seokjin still did not look at him, but his shoulders slackened gradually. His legs parted to take up more space and he looked like he wanted to lean against the couch.

A few more moments and he probably would.

Namjoon weighed his options. Could he afford to wait for the other or just go for it?

Despite his appearance, Namjoon wasn't exactly the most patient person. In fact, for what it's worth, Taehyung took his time much more graciously then Namjoon ever could. He was called the level headed one, Namjoon scoffed at that; for he knew he could never get married to a guy and wait for him to break in order to bring him down.

“Seokjin?” He called out, impatient.

The other still did not look at him, but he did drop his head against the couch, glass of wine carefully held in his hand.

“Drop the act.”

Namjoon thought he spoke too soon, too hastily; for Seokjin's head snapped at his direction and wild, big eyes met his.

Damn he’s beautiful.

Namjoon held his gaze and never wavered. His subconscious cannot be wrong. Just like Taehyung's guts.

He wasn't called a genius for nothing. And the fact was proved true again, and he could relax against the pounding in his chest; when Seokjin's face morphed into a smirk.

Good . Namjoon had been nervous he was wrong, but even when he was not fond of smirks in particular, Seokjin's set him at ease.

Gosh it was getting tiring!,” Seokjin chimed as he relaxed completely, breathing heavily as though breathing in a long while. He finally took a large gulp of the wine, and almost animatedly his movements became faster and precise.

Well he moved too much in fact.

“I knew! I knew you'd see through me. I gave you hints that day.” Seokjin giggled as he spoke, making himself way too comfortable on Namjoon's couch. Namjoon only stared at him like an idiot. He saw the transformation coming, but the absurdity of it did not hit him with any less impact.

“What? Don't you remember?,” Seokjin widened his eyes again. “I purposely walked straight that day where I know you could see me!”

Wow. Namjoon thought. He could be pretty chatty when he wished to be.

Namjoon wouldn't deny that he saw him. He wouldn't deny how subconsciously he knew his awkwardness was an act. But he was still surprised.

That is exactly why he hated revelations. They always hit hard on the head.


Namjoon managed to find his voice, still not over how Seokjin practically sprawled on his sofa and looked at him with such wide wide eyes, when moments ago he would flinch at the sound of a click.

“You have to be more specific about your questions, Namjoonie!”


“I have to know what you mean. Like are you asking me why am I here, which I've already answered by the way, or why was I walking straight, or why I knew you'd figure out, or why I had been acting. Speaking of which, aren't I a fantastic actor!?”

Seokjin looked at him with hopeful eyes, while Namjoon just stared dumbfounded.

“...ah,” Seokjin sighed. “It feels good to speak again.”

Namjoon shook himself off his trance and gulped all of his remaining wine down.

“I'd need an answer to all of those questions.”

“So basically,” Namjoon said, pacing around in front of the couch, while Seokjin watched him in amusement.

“Your...father... and you, planned it all out because you thought it was fun ?”

“Umm. But it is not that simple.” Seokjin playfully rolled his eyes.

“My guardian. Not my father. Okay so my guardian, who is Lee Jinsoo as you know, well he likes to be...what do I say, underestimated? Yeah, that. He can end all of your careers, no offense, but he likes to surprise people you know.”

“No I do not know, Seokjin. Explain it to me.”

“Oh c'mon,” Seokjin exclaimed. “He likes to have his fun alright. He wants to appear weak in all fronts, so he'd go unnoticed until he stabs them at the back, got it?”

“Being vulnerable is the best form of defense,” Namjoon muttered, quoting a book, or a person he could not remember.

“Exactly! So that. And since I'm a fuck good actor I join in on the fun,” Seokjin said nonchalantly, as if it was the most usual thing to do.

Namjoon suddenly looked at him and stepped closer. He never took his eyes off him as he crouched before him. Seokjin was slightly taken aback, but more so he was enjoying himself.

“You weren't forced into it?” Namjoon asked softly.

Seokjin seemed to ponder for a minute.

“I wouldn't say no,” he answered. “There definitely was some sort of coercion from Mr. Lee at some point. It was all fun in the beginning,” Seokjin huffed dramatically as he laid down on the couch again. “But I'm getting tired,” he whined.

Namjoon did not reply immediately. All of this information was giving him a headache. Why he always found the most obnoxious people to deal with was unfathomable to him.

“Why me, then? Why did you decide to expose yourself to me?” Namjoon asked, voice tired.

“Why? Umm... because I like you? Duh?” Seokjin answered with perfect nonchalance again, while Namjoon got successfully flustered.

“Like me?”

“Yes. You were the only one not sucking up to Lee.”

“Park Senior basically called his heir broken in front of him.”

Seokjin shook his head in disbelief.

“So you want me to go to that creep? Namjoonie aren't you supposed to be smart?”

Namjoon coughed out loud. Goddamn.

“I could rat you out.”

Seokjin looked at him, his expression bored.

“What for?”

Namjoon thought about it. “Fair enough.” He sighed.

“And besides,” Seokjin said as he lift his legs up for comfort. “We're friends now.”

“Excuse me? I never said—”

Namjoon was cut off by a finger to his lips.

“We're friends now,” Seokjin said, expression darkening. Namjoon unconsciously gulped.

He broke into a smile right after. “So don't be surprised that I'll be hanging out here.”



“What was even supposed to be your condition?” Namjoon asks, genuinely curious.

“Uhm… I don't know? Asperger's?”

Namjoon buries his face into his hands.

“At least do your research before you take the role, idiot.”



The Busena Terrace was presumably the best hotel the Jeon could find for the couple, and Taehyung didn't completely disagree. The view from their alloted bedroom was downright heavenly, with the sun dancing horizontally into his eyes. Since there was not much time in their hands to wander about with all the neck deep affairs Jeon had asked them to indulge in, the next best thing was being in the vicinity to the beautiful places. The Busena marine Park was a seven-minute walk away, and the Jeons made sure to visit at least one location.

And yet, Taehyung felt nothing compared to the city view from his lovely penthouse. The sight of life bustling beneath his feet was extraordinary, not even the solemn sunset could compare. He had an affinity for the highest of places, and so the sea,as beautiful as she was, still remained second to the mountains.

He thought he should one day visit the Himalayas.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was disturbingly nonchalant. Partly because the trip was sponsored by his loudmouth daddy who he had managed to grow to hate just a tad more everyday, and partly because half of the time at Okinawa he was surrounded by .22 calibers.

“Look at these babies,” his partner Ruhee pointed to the massive .50 caliber rifles. “We better get a truckload of them.”

Jungkook did not reply. As much as he loved guns his mind was already going haywire. It wasn't a pretty sight and the whole warehouse stenched of gunpowder while his men tested the rifles. His mind drifted off to Taehyung and his musky cologne for some weird reason, and the way he had actually refused him anywhere near his ass.

“What? You deal with guns so you gotta gun them down?” Taehyung had sneered. “It's a stereotype, Kook. Jaebin has corrupted you.”

“What do I know?” Jungkook had replied softly. “I have always been taught dominate Tae. I was never supposed to receive.

Taehyung had smiled at him, radiating warmth that put the setting sun to shame.

“Hey,” Taehyung had interlocked their fingers.

“You deserve to be smothered in love Jungkook. You should have the world if you just ask for it and no— I'm not exaggerating. I want to show you how much you can be loved, Jungkook. I would give you all the love you deserve, let me please?”

“It's…,” Jungkook had gulped hard. “It's going to hurt…”

“No, baby, no,” Taehyung had said, cupping his face in his hands. “It won't hurt if I love you right. It isn't supposed to hurt.”


“Jungkook,” he had said. “I'm Korea's favorite love machine for a reason. Just...just let me show you okay? Let me show you how to love…”

Jungkook was brought back to his senses by a gush of air hitting his face and a mind numbing bang. The shockwave almost made him stumble backwards in his feet, and he felt his heart almost stop at the shock. His ears rang painfully, and for a panicked minute he thought he lost hearing at his left ear.

“The fuck was that!?” He exclaimed.

“Huh,” Ruhee looked at him clueless. “The rifles? .50 calibers?”

Jungkook steadied himself at the information, but still heaved. “Fuck, give a man a warning, would ya?”

Jungkook walked towards the rifles and took in the details. The magazine alone was larger than his fucking face, and the rifle weighed more than both his and Taehyung's suitcases for the trip combined.

He liked the color of that particular beast, matte black yet not dulled by the dust. He had once fired one, could not move his shoulder for a week at the recoil.

He was not fond of anything above .45. His mother was killed by a .45, and though he did cry over her dead body it wasn't her death that revolted him from the weapon. It was the size of the exit hole; it was as large as his nine year old hand. And even though Jungkook was all in for blood and gore and would get notoriously turned on at the sight of crimson, the gaping hole at his mother's back genuinely frightened him. He could see the insides of her body, and he had been repulsive since, to both high caliber guns and human guts.

Nevertheless he wouldn't dare not appreciate the intricacies of rifles. It was his job, his passion even, and he loved business. A part of him was convinced he would die by a bullet, and he had since already began to fall in love with them.

“You can hurt someone with it's shockwave alone,” Ruhee commented. Jungkook simply nodded and walked away giving his approval. Ruhee smiled and worked the formalities out; the deal was sealed.

“Oh, Ruhee?” Jungkook called.


“Get me a Canik handgun. Silver. Get it delivered to The Busena Terrace by midnight.”

“Jungkook, are you asking me to smuggle firearms into a hotel?”

“It's good how fast you understand. That is why you're my partner.”

Ruhee sighed.

“Fine. But you'll have to pay delivery charges.”

Jungkook smiled. “Sure thing.”

“...and thus I found this giant ass plot near Naha. I couldn't believe it was just... there . Unregistered and abandoned.”

Taehyung ranted on, pulling at his white T-shirt, and Jungkook sheepishly smiled at him.

“I have ordered Soba noodles for dinner.” Taehyung announced, shuffling restlessly on the bed while Jungkook sat calmly. The evenings of Okinawa were nothing what Seoul offered him, but there was an amazing sense of tranquility in the air. Jungkook did not know which one he liked better, but he knew for sure Taehyung couldn't appreciate it as much. He was pathetically in love with the lights of Apgujeong.

“Oh and I tried Awamori .”

“I have had that before.”

“Right? I thought so too, since it tastes more like soju than sake .” Taehyung playfully rolled his eyes. “God I miss Seoul already.”

“Tae it's only been two days.”

“And I miss my city. What about it?”

Jungkook shook his head and smiled.

“Tae?” He spoke, clearing his throat.


“I...I thought about it…”

“About wha— oh .” Taehyung dragged the word, and suddenly his expression changed into a sly one.

Shithead .

“So?,” Taehyung crawled closer to where Jungkook was sitting before gingerly placing his chin on the other's shoulder.

“What did you think?”

“I um... I'd like to...try.”

Taehyung let out a breathy laugh. He pulled at Jungkook's cheeks, which made him pout.

“What?” Jungkook whined.

“Nothing. Good choice.” Taehyung let go of him, and resumed his earlier position, sprawling carelessly on the bed. His big shirt was dangerously off his shoulders, revealing his collarbones. Jungkook noticed how broad his chest actually was.

He gulped nervously.



“What um...what should I do?”

Taehyung widened his eyes. “Jungkook, you're trying to go at it right now?”


“Not happening. You need to clear your system of certain... things .”

“Hey, I'm already clean okay? I've…” Jungkook looked away. “I've cleaning everyday.”

Taehyung looked at him before uttering a low 'good’ in his direction. “But it's not the right time yet. You don't plan this out, alright? You still need the feeling there.” Taehyung explained.

“And right now the feeling is hunger. Let's get those soba noodles.”

Jungkook did not hide his disappointment, but nodded nonetheless.


It was not until three days later that Jungkook knew what the feeling meant.

When he couldn't stop staring at Taehyung's hands. When he bit his lips looking at the other's thighs while he slept. When he took so much space in the bed basically cuddling into Jungkook with his huge frame. When he kept staring at Taehyung's lips when he smirked.

It wasn't a new feeling, in fact it was oddly familiar. The pool of heat in his stomach. Except it did not unsettle his nerves, it made him want to enjoy the anticipation. He did not mind the wait in fact, the fantasies had taken over and he very conveniently found himself hard at odd times of the day. He surprised himself when he almost shied away from Taehyung's gaze, when he had only asked if he needed something to drink. Taehyung had stared at him hard for a few seconds after, probably enjoying his reddening face. He knew Taehyung was thinking of him, thinking of things he'd do to him; and it only made everything all the more fun. Jungkook suddenly found teasing was a great idea, and all the times Jimin had teased him helped him reach the conclusion, since he could not resist it when Jimin did tease him.

So there he stood casually taking off his shirt while the other typed away in his phone, pretending to be as nonchalant as he possibly could, asking Taehyung for his razor like he was not just trying to flex his abs. Taehyung had indeed stared at him for a good half minute before getting up to go get the razor. He also made sure to let his fingers linger longer on the other's knuckles, and if his efforts were anything to go by, Taehyung had stared at him like an idiot for more than once.

And when Taehyung had hugged him tight to thank him for the handgun, he felt the extra pressure on his waist. His small waist Taehyung loved so much.

But when he stood in front of his mirror, shirt discarded carelessly as his husband strolled outside, he was frustrated. There were a huge number of products in the dressing table to chose from, and Jungkook was utterly confused which one he needed. Cons of being in a classy restaurant, he now did not know whether he wanted a rose scented or peach scented shaving cream.

He was ready to pull at his hair, but stopped when he saw Taehyung's reflection in the mirror, smiling smugly at him as he threw a small bottle up in the air to catch it right back in his hands. He repeated the action over and over again, and his bottle green button up moved along with his body, giving a good view of his veiny arms that did things to Jungkook.

He looked at the bottle.


He kept staring with eyes wide open as Taehyung slowly walked up to him, taking in his shirtless form with greedy eyes.

All of his frustration dissipated as Taehyung snaked an arm around his waist, pulling him against his chest.

“Hey,” Taehyung breathed against his hair, and Jungkook could see him in the mirror, eyes half closing as he took in his scent.

“Hi,” Jungkook said back, smiling a bit. He could not keep the smile off his face as Taehyung buried his nose into his shoulder.

His Taehyung. So close at hand.

Taehyung put the bottle of lube on the table.

“What got you so mad, pretty?” Taehyung asked, his voice muffled into Jungkook's shoulder.

Jungkook was no longer angry, and he actually felt stupid that Taehyung saw him losing his shit over something so small. He shook his head in a reply, and Taehyung saw him in the mirror, eyes dilated and so intoxicated. Jungkook felt heat pool in his stomach again.

Taehyung kissed his shoulders gently, slowly moving up the juncture until he was leaving small pecks on his nape. Jungkook closed his eyes at the sensation, involuntarily enough, baring his neck even more.

Taehyung caught Jungkook's face in his hold, turning him towards him.

“May I?” He asked against his ear, whispering. Jungkook let out a breathy approval. He had thought he had said 'yes’ or something along those lines, but he liked how the conversation did not continue, and all his words melted into Taehyung's mouth.

Jungkook knew time wouldn't stop when Taehyung kisses him. Nor would the world feel different. All the difference that the lack of distance between their mouths ensure was the huge hammering in his chest, the strange urge to hold the other forever, the stupid desire to forever keep Taehyung's lips to himself. Jungkook always felt making out was a fairly emotional act, and a choice made not in throes of passion but by the desire of the heart, conveying messages too afraid to be spoken out loud. Jungkook had stopped feeling the same with anyone else other than Taehyung; with everyone else it was just the movement of face muscles. With Taehyung the kisses retained their meanings.

So when Taehyung's hands roamed all over his naked chest Jungkook mimicked his actions. He would very much like the darned pieces of clothing between them to disappear, but one stiff restriction from Taehyung's hand told him he did not like the same. Jungkook did not understand why, but he was too riled up to consider it even, for Taehyung's hands moved progressively south.

After all Taehyung was supposed to teach him how to be loved.

Taehyung harshly pulled him away, turning him once more to face the mirror again. Jungkook was surprised at how much he liked the aggression, how amazing Taehyung's hands felt hold tightening on his waist, and how much it bothered him when Taehyung checked him out on the mirror.

“Beautiful,” he muttered, before tugging at the waistband of Jungkook's pants.

“Babe,” he called. Jungkook looked at him in the mirror, through hooded eyes.

“Can I?” Taehyung asked, placing a soft kiss on his hair.

“Please, Tae.” Jungkook managed to say.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay? Tell me if you're uncomfortable do you hear me?”

“Taehyung, God– just… please…”

Taehyung pecked his neck continuously as he let his pants fall on the floor. Jungkook stood in his boxers, and though he could see his lower region in the mirror, which he felt was a good thing, he knew he was hard.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung asked, running his hand through Jungkook's forehead, pushing back his hair.

“Um..yeah… but– I'm nervous.”

“Do you want me to—”

“No Tae, no. Just… be gentle…”

Taehyung said nothing, but Jungkook felt his boxers slip past his ass. He felt heat rising up his cheeks as Taehyung didn't completely pull them down, only slightly past his entrance.

Taehyung caressed his thighs as he kissed Jungkook in the mouth again. He effectively teased around his hole, but never applied the anticipated pressure. He in fact slipped past his hole, and instead rubbed his fingers on his perineum.

Jungkook shuddered as a moan left his mouth. Taehyung placed small kisses all over his jaw, as he continued massaging his sensitive skin, only applying a slight more pressure at certain points and barely touching the rest, leaving Jungkook gasping for more.

“Tae...this feels...fu– so good!” He exclaimed.

Taehyung hummed against his skin. “Let me make you feel better, babe.”

He swiftly opened the bottle of lube, pressing Jungkook against the table trapping him within himself. He poured a copius amount of the cold liquid on his fingers, and gently pressed them on Jungkook's rim.

The cold sensation made the feeling much more real, until the pressure against his hole was the only thing Jungkook could feel anymore. His mind traced the shape of Taehyung's thumb softly placed against his perineum, his round fingertips sensitizing the outside of his hole, making it clench against nothing.

A low curse escaped Taehyung as he carefully pushed his index finger against his fluttering hole. Jungkook gasped at the new sensation, waiting for the dreaded pain to fill him in.

But it never did

Only the slight burn of friction really remained as Taehyung smothered him up in soft kisses to help him adjust. He kissed his forehead with the utmost care, and as his finger moved inside him he kissed his cheeks multiple times, kissed the tip of his nose before moving to his lips. They were mostly soft pecks more than tongue and teeth, and Jungkook decided he liked it that way.

He liked Taehyung peppering him in kisses a bit too much.

He liked Taehyung a bit too much.

And at that moment he just knew in his heart just how much he was willing to do to get Taehyung to kiss him like that every minute of the day.

And suddenly all thoughts of everything, just simply, left his head. He threw back his head against the other's chest in the most amazing sensation he had felt in a long time. A series of moans leave his mouth as pleasure builds all over his body, at his toes, at his chest, at his cock, at his fingertips. Taehyung took his time before slipping in another finger, and Jungkook yelled at the stretch.

“Fu–fuck Taehyungie, so, so good…”

“Open your eyes, babe.” Taehyung lifted his head with his free hand, and made him face the mirror.

Jungkook could hardly recognize himself as he moaned at a particularly rough thrust. His face was more flustered than he had deemed possible, his pupils almost black at the sheer amount of dilation. Taehyung kept brushing his hair back to comfort him, but his eyes displayed a predatory lust at the sight of his face.

Jungkook felt his insides stretch and he knew he was being scissored. He felt embarrassed at how loud he was being, but did not bother hiding it either. And when Taehyung added in a third finger to rut inside him, he was practically screaming.

“Well aren't you a loud...loud little bitch,” Taehyung groaned against his ear, only working up Jungkook even more.

“Just imagine when your dear daddy sees you like this, Kook. His little gang leader being a loud slut for me.”

Taehyung kept speaking profanities into his ear, and Jungkook fucking liked it, all of it. And when Taehyung hit his bundle of nerves in a swift thrust of his fingers, Jungkook sobbed at the pleasure.

Taehyung made him look at the mirror again. Jungkook looked utterly depraved and already so damn fucked out, and yet there was not an ounce of shame in him when he asked for more, looking into his own damn eyes in the mirror.

“Taehyungie... please. More…”

Taehyung slipped his free hand to Jungkook's front, effectively holding his cock in his own hands. He did not pull down the piece of clothing, even with the slight hindrance from the elastic he slowly stroked Jungkook's cock.

“Well aren't you big.” Taehyung snickered, without halting any of the motions of his hands.

Jungkook was a moaning mess. He did not know which sensation to concentrate on, there was too much pleasure in both. His mind slowly went into overdrive, Taehyung's voice in his ears sounding distant. He let everything slip away from his head, until only the pressure against his prostate and the squeezing in the tip of his dick remained.

Bottoming was overwhelmingly pleasurable, he concluded.

And as soon as he reached his conclusion, he came into Taehyung's hands.

He leaned back against his husband's chest, lest he should fall. Taehyung held him in place, breath coming in short gasps as well. He kissed Jungkook again, all over his neck and shoulders, finally letting his lips rest on his head as he let out small praises for the younger to hear.

Jungkook steadied himself on the table as Taehyung slowly released his hold on him. His breathing was still erratic, yet he hastily pulled his boxers back, even with the cum sticking to them. For some reason he could not meet his own eyes in the mirror, and he quickly pulled his pants up as well as he turned towards Taehyung. All the embarrassment of being so fucking loud came back to him like a train, and he fidgeted where he stood, until he looked at Taehyung.

Taehyung was thoroughly washing his hands with strap on disinfectants.

Disinfectants? Seriously now.

Jungkook would have been embarrassed if he was not offended.

“I told you I've been cleaning myself.” Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest, looking away.

“You've just recovered from an STI, Kook. I cannot put these babies—,” Taehyung pointed to his fingers. “— in my mouth knowing that.”

Jungkook still did not look at him.

“C'mon babe. Don't you sanitize after you rim Jimin?”

“...No. He licks it off.” Jungkook shrugged.

“What the actual fuck, Jeon?”

Jungkook proceeded to explain how he does clean his fingers after Jimin licks them off, but is soon halted as a huge bang rattled the windows.

The walls shook with vibrations as both of them stare at the other in shock.

Another bang surfaces right next to them, and Jungkook could easily identify the sound of a .50 caliber rifle.

“Jungkook, what the fuck is going on?” Taehyung asked, shaken by the loud sounds.

Jungkook looked out of the window, and somehow wished he didn't.

“The hotel is under attack.”