There’s this factor that comes along with fighting for your life that a lot of people just don’t understand. Boxing, MMA, and whatever fake shit they put on the television doesn’t compare to the high of really fighting for your life. Jimin knows. He’s doing it right now.
He’s picked a new mark for the night and went through all the trouble of batting his eyes and pretending to be too drunk too keep from giggling. Jimin was impatient as he let the poor son of a bitch lead him outside. Too focused on achieving his own end that he didn’t notice it when his partner's demeanor changed. There are no signs that anything had gone wrong until Jimin’s head cracked against the brick wall of the alley. The lone street lamp leaves streaks across his vision as he recovers.
His date is standing- towering- over him despite the few inches height difference. Jungkook’s previously goofy attitude has slipped off him like a coat. Jimin slips the blade from the sleeve of his jacket with a small flick of his wrist. His head is throbbing, but his attention is honed in on the new challenge that has presented itself. He hadn’t been able to read anything off Jungkook in the bar that suggested him to be anything other than a typical, pathetic post-grad. Maybe an office jockey who had two minute long missionary a couple days out of the month.
This, this is interesting. He plays up his disorientation, and waits for Jungkook to strike again. He grabs the arm that shoots out, grabbing his around the wrist and using his weight to throw the Jungkook off balance. With his free hand, he gets in a long drag of his knife up Jungkook’s side. It's not the wounding stab he wants, but he still wishes he could see the blood bloom through his shirt. Jungkook’s thrown off long enough that Jimin makes a run for it. He knows his chances with someone like this, someone he can't catch off guard. A hand knots in his hair and jerks him to a stop. Jimin waits for the body to follow before bringing the knife down into what he hopes is a femoral artery and yanking it back out.
Jungkook growls a curse and a foot kicks the back of Jimin’s knee. It doesn’t knock him down, but he wobbles and suddenly the knife is out of his hand. He doesn’t get to grab at it, the hand in his hair shoves him face first into the wall and he hears his nose crack before he’s dragged down. The whole side of his face is fucked. That's the most bothersome part of this encounter. Jimin doesn’t like having to explain his injuries to people. With all this experience under his belt Jimin hardly found himself with visible injuries. Maybe this all happened because he got too comfortable. He stopped cherishing the moment.
There’s not a lot to cherish about being thrown to the ground, however, getting the air knocked out of him kind of takes away from the jollies of a big man throwing him around. He gets Jungkook back for it. He grabs the foot intending to kick him, twisting hard and bringing Jungkook down. Jimin climbs on top of him with a knee digging hard between Jungkook’s legs while his hands come around his throat. It happens so fast that Jimin can enjoy the fish out of water way that Jungkook’s body spasms under him. With the upperhand, he's also finally got enough light to be able to look into Jungkook’s eyes.
They’re endless, glittering darkness. They reflect the same anger Jimin feels but deeper lurks Jungkook's own cold blooded hatred. Jungkook probably hadn’t intended for this to be such a fight. With his body, with his skills, Jimin doubts there is ever much a struggle with his kills. A delighted chill flashes up Jimin’s back thinking about it. Jungkook’s hands are currently attempting to give him internal bleeding, but he likes the mental image of them beating into some one unsuspecting. He wonders how Jungkook usually goes about this as he increases his efforts in knocking the man out. The hits slow as Jungkook nears unconsciousness. Jimin just needs to hold on a little longer.
The victory of watching Jungkook’s eyes glaze over before he slumps lifelessly to the pavement is incomparable in terms of reality. It reads similar to killing some great beast. Jimin thinks about finishing the job, but this experience has afforded him a new perspective. With new eyes he recognizes how routine the process had become. The thrill of it had dulled significantly.
The need for higher stakes has Jimin releasing Jungkook’s throat. He leans in close to his face admiring the smoothness of his skin and leaves a biting kiss to his throat. It's enough to leave a bruise and warrant irritation when the man comes to. He hopes its clue enough as he climbs off his unconscious body. Jimin makes sure to grab his knife from where it was thrown.
His car is parked in a lot just a block from the bar. He walks as fast as he can without running, but it's not like there are many people on the streets to see him. His glances into the rearview on his way home tell him he looks as bad as he feels. There's more blood dried up his nose than he prefers there to be, the sensation prickles in the back of his mind throughout the drive.
He makes it home safely, but the body trauma is finally catching up to him. There’s a headache sprouting from the knot on the back of his skull. When he gets his shirt off he can see the purpling bruises already forming across his back. The real problem is his face. After scrubbing all the blood away, he’s left with two black eyes and scrapes down the left side of his face. He only has one appointment scheduled tomorrow, easy enough to rearrange, but he’s not so lucky with the rest of the week.
He’ll come up with something plausible in the morning. It’ll be easier to brainstorm with after some sleep. He resists taking advil and brings a glass of water to his bedroom. He lays in bed, but sleep is hard to find with Jungkook on his mind.
The shadows on his ceiling twist and mold themselves in the shapes of his hands; they reach for Jimin as he drops off the ledge of consciousness. They chase him through his dreams.
In the morning, the back of a rude secretary is prepared as bacon to go along with his breakfast, and Jimin settles on his bike flipping over on a trail as the excuse for his injuries. If he adds his inexperience in the hobby it will sell a lot better.
As he eats, he considers that his meal is infinitely more valuable than the girl would have ever been. Like a spark along a wire, his mind flickers to Jungkook, briefly. For the most part Jimin has pushed the man out of his mind, but it’s hard to ignore what intrigues him so. More so when all streams of thought seem to lead back to him.
The morning turns into afternoon and Jimin fakes compassion for his patient while slipping the idea of poisoning her cheating husband into her head. She’s packs up her emotions at the end of the session, taking a few tissues to wipe the tears off her cheeks. As she leaves Jimin can see her thoughts turning leaden and sharp. He wonders if she’ll add a little too much seasoning to tonight’s meal and secretly revel at the way her husband chokes. If seeing him splutter will scare her or thrill her.
He might invest in a copy of the Poisoner’s Handbook to shelf near the chaise. He has a week to prepare for the next appointment and to gauge how far along the path she is. Jimin thinks now is the time for him to appreciate the art of the slow burn.
In the same right, he doesn't seek out any shady corners of town for weeks as a way of drawing out the anticipation of seeing Jungkook again- and he will see him again.
In the end, his patience is all to no end.
Jimin’s spending his evening at the symphony, making his rounds in the lobby after the performance has ended. It's not nearly as socially rigorous as the opera where Jimin maintains multiple important social connections. A few of the city's elite join him here, but there is a fair mix of people Jimin doesn't know as well.
A few familiar faces appear in his periphery, but there's something that prickles the back of Jimin's neck. As soon as is polite, Jimin breaks away to look for the source and finds Jungkook staring at him. Jimin internally tsks at how dark his eyes burn out in the open like this. The curious boy is already pushing at Jimin's expectations of him.
Jimin stares back for only a second before ducking his head away. The prickling ends. When Jimin looks back Jungkook has disappeared into the crowd. The invitation to join the chase is clear and tempting. Too tempting to resist it seems.
As he crosses the lobby, Jimin scans the group of people without seeing Jungkook anywhere among them. He gives a final glance over his shoulder before opening the door to the bathrooms.
He’s standing in front of the mirror washing his hands when the dark shadow of Jungkook appears beside him. Jimin gives him a glance through the mirror. His blood singing under his skin at being back in his presence.
It looks like Jungkook has recovered well enough since their last encounter. Jimin had only just nipped the last bruises this week, but he was a slow healer. Not to mention that one hard squeeze could start his skin to blossom with bruises like an overripe fruit.
Jungkook begins to wash his hands next to Jimin. Jimin watches him in the mirror, startled when dark eyes cut up to meet his. “Your place or mine?”
Jimin smirks, “Are you willing to give up home field advantage?”
Jungkook's face darkens and it seems to change the air around him. Violence it radiates off of him, calling the metallic taste of blood to Jimin's tongue. Jungkook's next words cover Jimin’s thought exactly, “I don't need any more advantages.”
Jimin remembers how easily Jungkook had caught him off guard and done plenty of damage. If Jimin hadn't been carrying his blade and well versed in thinking on his feet, he easily could have been the next victim.
“Just follow my car then,” Jimin walks out first, hoping he looks less excited than he feels. How scandalous it would be- getting caught exiting the bathroom red cheeked and followed by a strong, handsome man. His weeks of daydreaming about Jungkook's strong hands and powerful muscles have provided him with no defenses to the real thing. He's practically dripping like a bitch in heat thinking about what will happen. Will concealed impatience, Jimin begs off his friends and excuses himself for the night. They all seem delighted to have something to gossip about him.
In his mind, Jimin plays at being prey. Imagines that he doesn't think anything funny of the car that tails him homes. Deeper inside, he commends Jungkook for the inconspicuous method of following that he does. It's almost like the man is playing along with him. It sparks wonder of the other games they could get up to together. He resists the desire to speed the rest of the way even as heat builds between his legs.
He wants to make Jungkook squirm too.
If Jimin thought Jungkook was intending to ease into this he would've likely ended up in the same position as last time. Expecting what seems like senseless violence allows Jimin to dodge when Jungkook rushes him into the house and tries to knock him to the ground.
In a battle of brute force, Jimin will lose every time. His strengths are not in beating his opponent outright, but in forcing Jungkook to wear himself down, to expose himself to Jimin's quick, critical blows. Even though Jungkook claimed he had no need for home field advantages, Jimin has no problem showing him what he's missing. As Jimin flees, drawing Jungkook into the house, he passes through the kitchen and grabs a knife from the block.
Jungkook may be fast, but Jimin knows where he can slide around corners, where the edges of a table stick out. He can feel Jungkook's irritation growing every time the man's body stumbles into a piece of furniture. His stamina is pretty good too. Jimin's in shape, but he doesn't do too much endurance work. He overestimates himself. Or maybe Jungkook hadn't been fully exerting himself before.
Right inside the dining room, Jungkook tackles him, all the weight of the fall knocking the wind out of Jimin and his knife scatters away from him. He's really getting tired of that. He focuses on catching breath while Jungkook rolls him over. The man's weight is effectively pinning him, long thick thighs sat all the way on his forearms to keep him from lashing out.
Jimin watches his fist reel back and tracks it's path all the way to his face. He curses as his mouth fills up with blood. The pain radiates to the core of his bones, and Jimin spits his blood out so as not to choke on it. It's pure coincidence that the spray hits Jungkook in the face. He looks good covered in blood, though.
Jungkook's face hardens. With something new in his eyes, he pins Jimin to the floor with a hand around his throat. He brings his face up close to Jimin's. The house is dark enough that the lack of space leaves them to stare into the dark, panting. Everywhere that they touch is burning hot and Jimin’s vision is bursting with fireworks from the weight around his throat. It's all just teetering on the ledge, so close to what he wants.
Jimin presses his throat into the grasp so that reach Jungkook's mouth. He tastes his own blood, licking at Jungkook's sealed lips and he lets his head fall back to the hardwood with a moan. Jungkook's hand squeezes him even tighter before he removes it entirely.
Jungkook's hands plant themselves on either side of Jimin's head and plants a stronger image of being caged than before. Despite it, Jimin can feel his chance coming.
Jungkook kisses him. His lips are soft, malleable against Jimin's natural pout. Jimin savors it just long enough to catch the man off guard as he brings his knee up and throws Jungkook off him bodily.
Jimin darts across the floor for his lost knife then returns to Jungkook who is still groaning in pain. Jimin straddles Jungkook's lap, holding the knife up like a prize. Faster than Jungkook's hands can stop him, he cuts the front of the button down and the shirt splits open. The newly exposed abs are marred by a thin line of where Jimin accidentally dug too deep. His fingers trace the path before sliding down Jungkook's side. There's still the raised line of where he had cut him before.
The old wound stirs up an emotion close to possession. Jimin's fingers trace the fresh scar with tenderness that lasts until his attention returns to Jungkook. Finally struggling beneath Jimin, his hands are pinned to his sides from when he had been clutching at himself. It makes it hard for him to get leverage to buck Jimin off.
Jimin drags the knife up Jungkook's throat with the tip just barely brushing his skin. Jungkook stills when the full edge of the blade rests against his throat. His veins bulge out from beneath his skin in protest of being caged. He's only trying to tease Jungkook as he leans down into his space, to give him a taste of his own medicine, but Jimin didn't take into account his own desires.
His body acts without his permission, leaning down to lick the line of blood up Jungkook's chest and subsequently releasing him from the tight hold.
When the only reaction is a lazy roll of Jungkook's hips, Jimin knows a line has been crossed. He digs his tongue into the cut and Jungkook's newly freed hand fists in his hair but it's not pulling him off.
Jimin pushes his luck further and lets his bottom teeth scrape up the wound and Jungkook almost pulls the hair out by the root. The pain makes him whine in his throat, it fills only a small part of his craving for brutality.
He grinds his hips down on Jungkook, the tight seam of his suit not allowing him much pleasure in the action but it's something. The hand doesn’t loosen, so Jimin repeats the motion and builds a stuttering rhythm. It pulls on his scalp to move but Jungkook doesn’t give an inch. In retaliation, Jimin digs his nails into the bare skin below him, sharing the pain with Jungkook as his cock throbs in his pants.
The last straw comes somewhere in the blur of Jimin rubbing himself off, in a second Jungkook shoves himself into an upright position. Dragging Jimin up with him, they stumble to standing. Mentally, he notes that Jungkook doesn't seem to feel the same aches as Jimin. He manhandles Jimin into his arms and carries him to the table with ease.
Jungkook laying him out on the dining room table is the gentlest act of the night. Jimin's thighs are going to be an explosion of purple and blue when this is all said and done. He knows he'll likely have to rearrange his schedule until he can sit without the pain. Or maybe.. he’ll let himself be distracted by it.
There are streams of thought running side by side the present moment, his plans changing with the possibilities. When Jungkook pulls a condom packet from his wallet and rolls it down himself, fingers glistening from the pre packaged lube, Jimin thinks he might just need the day off.
Greasy fingers pry Jimin open, they only stretch him enough create space for the fat head of Jungkook’s cock as it pushes inside him. The start is slow out of necessity. Jimin’s eyes water with the stretch, body squirming away from the pain on it's own even as he moans into it. He's nowhere near ready for the size of it, but that doesn't keep Jungkook from settling balls deep inside him. Jimin has a little trouble catching his breath, his thoughts fray out at the edges.
Jungkook trembles above him and Jimin has the undeniable feeling that he knows exactly what Jimin's feeling. The reprieve lasts only a few moments. Jungkook grabs his thighs, dragging Jimin's legs over his shoulders and holding them tight as he pulls out and forces himself back inside quicker than before.
There's no talking as Jungkook begins to fuck him. Jimin couldn't talk if he wanted, his voice turns in quiet moans from the punishing pace. He bites his lip to bleeding trying to listen to the grunts from Jungkook. The sounds of their bodies slapping together makes it hard to hear himself think, his attention is split in a million directions.
Jungkook pulls him further off the table which changes the angle that he hits. The sudden overflow of pleasure has Jimin scrabbling at the smooth dark wood of the table. There's nothing to tether him so he resorts to grabbing at himself with sweaty, desperate fingers. The stimulation makes him want to crawl out of his own skin.
He grabs Jungkook’s hands from his thighs and drags them to his face. Jungkook has to bend him in half to reach comfortably. Jimin’s thighs burn from the stretch, but he pulls two thick fingers into his mouth, letting them weigh down his tongue and tease his gag reflex. Jungkook's thrusts stutter, and he stops to shove a third finger down Jimin’s throat. He begins to move again, matching his fingers fucking Jimin's mouth with the movement of his hips. It's perfectly degrading, stuffing Jimin full at both ends.
All Jimin really can do now is take the rough fucking and try not to choke on his own spit as Jungkook tries to tear him in half. His brain all but melts out his ears. He doesn't even notice that he's bitten down on Jungkook's fingers until the man slaps him across the face, and Jimin tastes blood in his mouth but not his own.
He lets go of Jungkook's fingers, whining when they come to squeeze his mouth shut with bruising force, like a muzzle on a bad dog. When Jungkook slaps him a second time, he kisses it better and curls his body over Jimin like a blanket. They’ve moved to something more deranged than they were before. They're locked in an animalistic rutting, Jungkook’s strength slipping out of his control as he loses himself. Jimin only knows this because his own sense of self has begun to crumble. Jungkook's teeth bite savagely at Jimin's neck and he’s pushed over the edge.
His hands find purchase in the thick muscle of Jungkook biceps as his body is wracked by the intensity. It feels like he's coming apart at the seams while Jungkook continues his brutal fucking. He’s an unstoppable force using Jimin through his pleasure to the point where he's once more squirming in pain.
The second time Jimin comes it feels as though it has been ripped out of him. It's nearly an out of body experience, his whole being seems to open up while Jungkook finishes with a low growl, hips jerking as he finishes in the condom.
Jungkook pulls out still panting. He ties off the condom while Jimin pulls the pieces of himself back together. It’s harder than he expected, his person suit doesn't fit quite right anymore. Like a thorn has embedded itself right into the side of him. Jimin’s unsettled at the thought, and watches as Jungkook cleans himself up quickly.
He doesn't say anything, appreciating the opportunity to watch the way Jungkook carries himself. What he sees is hardly more than what he had already gathered about the man.
Mostly Jimin just finds himself more fascinated with the thrumming darkness he can see in Jungkook. It's not as developed as he had originally thought, but it's capable of becoming something beautiful. If only he could guide him through the process.
Jungkook stops to meet Jimin stare before he disappears into the kitchen. He doesn't return. The lack of goodbye strikes more than a little irritation in Jimin but the departure doesn't strike him as final.
He's sure that it won't be long before they meet again. He wonders about the darkness and how much it will have grown by then.
The director of the Behavioral Science Unit of the FBI rarely comes knocking to non-bureau psychiatrists so Jimin takes note when he sees Kim Namjoon darkening his doorstep. Namjoon is an incredibly handsome man, but Jimin reads nothing too extraordinary in him. He eyes the wedding ring the man turns with a nervous thumb and invites the man into his office.
Namjoon doesn't take a seat, but takes it upon himself to explore the decorated walls of the office. Jimin finds that his more nervous patients appreciate somewhere to rest their gaze. Namjoon's eyes pass over the spines of his precious volumes and the impeccably framed art of his walls with little care. Suddenly, his entire attitude seems like a polite pretense. Jimin walks to his desk and slips the blade from beneath his stack of papers into the edge of his sleeve.
Namjoon doesn't wait any longer for Jimin to lead them into conversation. “Doctor Park, I was recommended to you by a colleague, a Dr. Kim Seokjin? He said that you could provide me with the necessary input on someone.”
He's puts so much effort in projecting his presence in the office that Jimin gives a smile. It's taken as a sign of acknowledgement.
“A case?” Jimin's interest is piquing. He wonders what Jin couldn’t possibly handle by himself.
Namjoon shakes his head, “Not exactly. I’d be happy to tell you more about it in Quantico.”
Jimin’s smile eases on his face. Who ever it is that has a man like Namjoon pushing for his help so strongly must be worth looking into. He finds the idea of visiting the FBI personally— and at their invitation— amusing too.
“Only if I may have the pleasure of your company at my dinner table, Agent Kim.” Jimin's given Namjoon exactly what he wants without putting up a fight. He can nearly see Namjoon preen at the easy victory. His larger than life presence in the office shrinks back down because of it.
Namjoon gives him the directions on a piece of paper and adds his business card, happily agreeing to dine with Jimin after the week is through.
He's already planning the meal and the meat in his mind. Perhaps the self assured, arrogant lawyer who cut the line in the coffee shop. He had been kind enough to drop his business card into the tip jar. Jimin looks at Namjoon fully and sees him through his newfound kindness and nice clothes. The lawyer would be good.
The next morning Jimin arrives in Quantico, not the least bit unsettled about being in such a large federal building. Namjoon meets him at reception and guides him to his office personally, telling him more about the unstable, bright agent who has an uncanny insight into the minds of criminals. Through the office’s glass doors Jimin can see someone waiting inside, tall and broad chested even in the ragged flannel and tweed. Jimin wrinkles his nose at the fashion, his interest dulling slightly at the prospect of trying to psychoanalyze a every day slob.
His bubble prematurely bursts when Namjoon brings them into the office and introduces the agent as Jeon Jungkook. Correction— teacher and occasional case consultant.
Jungkook looks at him for the first time and Jimin watches him struggle to conceal his reaction. Jimin introduces himself, a smirk twitching secretly on his lips, enjoying the glint in Jungkook's eye when he informs him of his profession.
Jungkook shakes his hand without meeting his eyes. Oh, that beautiful darkness is hidden so much deeper in Jungkook now, but Jimin can still see it. Jimin can see so much more of Jungkook now, and it all calls to the monster lurking within him.
“What is this Namjoon?” Jungkook's words are not simply accusing. They're right rude.
Jimin watches Jungkook argue with the department chief, hiding his enjoyment. This is his chance to see Jungkook out of his comfort zone and peer into his mind.
Their argument comes to a head very quickly and ends with Jungkook storming out. He and Namjoon are left in loud silence.
When the dust settles, Jimin meets Namjoon’s desperate, imploring gaze.
“It seems what Jungkook suffers from is pure empathy,” Jimin informs him, though he's sure the man already knows. He half listens to Namjoon apologize for the happenings. The man is under the impression he will have to further persuade Jimin into helping him. Jimin doesn't bother trying to stop him; his energy is spent thinking about Jungkook. He mentally plays out their interactions. It seems Jeon Jungkook will be taking permanent residence in his mind.
This is getting curiouser and curiouser, indeed.