Chapter Text
Not everything that shines is gold.
Sometimes, they’re diamonds. Just like the choker around Namjoon’s neck that was gifted to him by his beloved.
However, as much as Namjoon adored that bedazzled chain, annoyance prickled underneath his dermis at how he probably looked right now with them on. It’s nothing against Jimin himself—this choker was the handsome man’s gift to him for their 33rd monthsary, just a small 50 million won present, no biggie—but Namjoon is more pissed off at what it currently insinuates to him as a whole person.
For steel chains shackle Namjoon’s wrist and ankles to the walls, chaining him from going any further than 3 meters away from this grimy and filthy corner, while his neck is adorned with diamonds, his ears dangling a matching pair for his choker.
Namjoon looks and feels like a trophy victim.
“Don’t look so down, pretty,” A voice suddenly piques up from the door, a man hovering over the entrance of the room where Namjoon is currently held captive. There are numerous guns strapped on to his waist, his biggest one hanging over his whole torso, gripped tight and defensively against his chest. “I can assure you that you still look like a pretty flower. All nice and ready for picking.”
The two other hooligans Namjoon’s main guard kept as his companions chuckled at the awful joke. Namjoon himself resisted rolling his eyes, opting to keep up his helpless demeanour instead of giving them any idea how he was burning with the need to claw their eyes out.
“U-Until when will I be kept here?” Namjoon stammered out, throat feeling a little scratchy because for the past few hours he’s been here, none of these dickheads thought of even giving him some water.
“Well that depends on our main boss,” The guard answered inconspicuously. “I’d look forward to meeting him, pretty. I’m sure he’ll take a very, very nice liking to you.”
Something in Namjoon’s insides twists into disdain, probably his soul. “He w-won’t hurt me, right?” He asks, maintaining his damsel in distress façade.
“I sure hope not.” Namjoon could see the way the main guard looked at him; it made his skin crawl from how revolting his eyes felt. Namjoon could only guess that they were under very strict orders not to touch him, or else— “But then again, that depends on your little darling Jimin-ssi. If his gang makes the wrong move, then I’m sure my boss won’t mind making a very wrong move on you, too.”
Namjoon tried his damn best not to bend over and retch his guts out with what was being blatantly implied. But as it is, this little crook and cranny they’ve chained Namjoon to was already grubby enough that he could barely distinguish the real color of the cement under the low light —wasn’t it supposed to be grey? Why the fuck is it green and brown then? And why the hell does it smell like shit?
Namjoon doesn’t even want to imagine where they were or what the hell is surrounding him. Instead, he focuses on making sense of what’s happening to him and how on earth he can get out of this place.
God, how did I even get here in the first place?
Tonight was just supposed to be a fun night with Jimin, the gang leader finally having some time off to take his little blossom on a well-deserved fancy date. Namjoon was so excited, he closed his flower shop early and got himself all dolled up for the night as Jimin promised to pick him up at exactly 7 in the evening.
But when Namjoon’s doorbell rang exactly fifteen minutes earlier, he never expected that instead of Jimin’s eye-smile and signature smirk greeting him with a kiss, a sack would be thrown over his head right after a handkerchief with a very putrid scent engulfed his nose and mouth.
In less than a minute, Namjoon was knocked out.
The flower shop owner doesn’t exactly know how long it’s been since he was kidnapped right from the comfort of his very own home. Hell, he doesn’t even have any idea how these assholes managed to run past the security measures Jimin has personally installed around his flower shop and in his apartment right above the said shop. One moment he was just giddy and excited, and now he’s just dirty and… pissed off.
How dare they ruin date night? I waited ten days before I could ride Jimin again after that stupid trip to Thailand about some fucking drug trades. And now this? Namjoon briefly wonders which god he angered before, enough for them to keep him away this long from Jimin’s monster cock. Another day apart and Namjoon was sure he was gonna die of starvation, or maybe malnutrition from his Vitamin D.
Unfortunately, there are bigger problems Namjoon has to worry about besides his girthy best friend. Namely, how can he get out of here silently and unharmed.
Because what these dumbfucks don’t know is that Namjoon’s wrists are long free from the steel chains. More than equipped with the knowledge on how to unshackle himself using one of the clips Namjoon always carried inside his pants. At least for now, blood circulation has returned to his radial artery. Nevermind the ugly bruises marring his skin thanks to those rough chains.
But, only a fool would attack so brashly, seeing as Namjoon didn’t even have a knife or a gun with him right now. More so, he had no idea about the general layout of this fucking hell hole, it’ll be a rookie mistake to just run and let it all up to God. If there was even one in the first place.
Planning is what Namjoon always does best. He secretly schemes inside his whole 148 IQ caged brain, and never does he ever make a move without a definite strategy beforehand.
And right now what his brain is telling him is to wait.
All Namjoon can really hope for is that Jimin is moving on the other side. He knows his beau is probably going bat shit crazy looking for him, knows that only the smell of his blossom can calm him down until then. Namjoon is aware that Jimin was equally as cunning as he was when it comes to conniving, and Namjoon has full faith that he’s already staging a master plan.
That’s why they worked best together—Namjoon as the brains, Jimin as the brawns.
But for now, patience is a virtue. And as Namjoon looked at those three armed guards amusing themselves with jokes that are even lamer than his Seokjin hyung’s seafood puns, Namjoon could definitely say that this is a test of not just time and patience, but also of his sanity.
The worst part? They’re not only testing Jimin’s patience, oh no. Hell right from Lucifer’s hands is about to come down on them, that’s for sure.
But they’re also very much getting into the Kim Namjoon’s goddamn nerves.
__________
To say that everything was in chaos in the PJM mansion would be an understatement.
The moment Jimin arrived at Namjoon’s apartment, with his front door unlocked, hell hath no fury like a gang leader scorned. A wrath from the deepest pits of inferno was unleashed by the gang leader himself, and every single one of his people knew that only the sight of a certain flower could calm the raging hellfire named Park Jimin.
He immediately sent all of his men on the lookout, murder in his eyes for the people behind this stint. None of the operations they had scheduled would proceed until Namjoon came back in one piece. He wasn’t stupid enough to leave them unguarded—Jimin knew that his enemies were probably waiting for that slip—but besides those men meant to keep a close watch on their ceased drug productions and trades or their weapons delivery, Jimin has designated every single one of his people to look for his beloved.
And none of them came back with anything useful.
The worst part of it all? Jimin also ensured that none of these men who arrived in Jimin’s office to tell him that they still haven’t gotten any useful information as to where his lover was came out alive. All of them left with a bullet straight to their head, just above the bridge of their nose for uniformity.
Jimin didn’t even need to look them in the eye as he fired the bullet. One moment they were apologizing profusely, “I’m sorry, s-sir, we promise that our sector is already searching high and—” Then bang. The people outside the door could only flinch, paling a little bit more with every ticking second that Persephone was torn away from his Hades.
“Hyung,” Jungkook entered the gang leader’s room, gulping. As one of Jimin’s right hand men, he had to keep his face controlled though he was trembling on the inside. The sight of five different guns sprawled out on Jimin’s desk probably didn’t help to calm his nerves either. “We have to talk.”
Jimin looks ahead from where he sits, barely sparing the newcomer a glance, thrumming his fingers in a prayer-like position. “Did they send you in because they knew I wouldn’t kill you?”
Jungkook blanches a little. “No,” He says, even though he was basically begged by their team to be the one to face the demon himself, because they all knew Jimin wouldn’t dare to hurt a single strand of his most trusted sidekick’s hair. “I came because I got some info.”
That gets Jimin’s attention. “What is it?”
“I found out why this all happened,” Jungkook courageously steps forward, placing his phone in front of the gang leader. “At least who’s responsible for this whole bullshit.”
Jimin looks down on Jungkook’s phone to see some retrieved texts from another phone number, probably deleted, but then again, Jungkook was one of the best hackers in this country and no, his skills are not just confined to the unlimited regeneration of claws in that stupid claw machine game in his phone. Jimin sees a familiar number, along with an even more familiar name.
“Jang Hyeron.” Jimin’s words ring sharply—sharper than the knife he would use to slit this fucker’s throat. “That bastard.”
Right there on the text messages, it’s obvious that Hyeron had sent information about Jimin’s lone Achilles’ heel to the rival gang. Hyeron would know, since he was one of the people Jimin had more than once sent to guard Namjoon when he was away.
…Since Hyeron once belonged to his gang.
“It’s the same asshole you kicked out of the team a month ago,” Jungkook reminds him, as if Jimin isn’t already picturing Hyeron’s face. Missing an eyeball and with his teeth plucked out like missing piano keys. “After you refused to give him a bigger share of his sales, he threatened to leave so you just let him go.”
Jimin made a big mistake with that. He kicked Hyeron out by beating him into a pulp and with the threat of his family’s lives looming above his head. But it seems that the dumbass was quite heartless. Jimin should make a new rule. From now on, no one gets out of his gang alive.
“I want his family dead. Start with his youngest siblings.” Jimin mercilessly instructs, glaring at Jungkook as if he was Hyeron himself. “Make their deaths quick, but send him photos of them beheaded.”
Jungkook barely looked bothered. “We already have eyes on them, but we can’t touch them right now.” He said firmly, and Jimin turned a little more agitated. “Hyung, if we kill them this minute, we don’t know what this Hyeron bloke would do to Namjoon. Please don’t forget that hyungie’s life is on the line, too.”
There’s a look of sadness and anger that crossed Jungkook’s face at the mention of the flower shop owner, and Jimin is once again reminded that the younger man had grown close to Namjoon himself. It was actually why Jimin couldn’t really kill him, Namjoon would castrate me if he found out that I hurt his golden maknae.
(And without my cock, Namjoon will probably get sad and depressed… then die.)
Jimin can’t let Namjoon die.
“Fine, but after this whole thing, I want Hyeron and his family dead.” Jimin emphasized and Jungkook was quick to nod in agreement. “How about Namjoon’s location though. Tell me what you know.”
In perhaps a less volatile situation, Jungkook would have pouted at his hyung about how Jimin didn’t even bother to say ‘thank you’. But given their circumstances, Jungkook figured he could bite back that whine for now. At least for his Joonie hyung’s sake.
“We don’t know anything yet.” The younger man says inconspicuously.
Jimin raises a dangerous brow at him. “And?”
Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean ‘and’?”
“You won’t come in here unless you’ve got something valuable for me.” Jimin reiterates. While discovering who was behind this was indeed useful, Jimin is primarily concerned with the whereabouts of his boyfriend. “I won’t kill you, Jungkook-ssi. But I can restrict your gaming time in the game room.”
Jungkook snorts. “How? Am I gonna be grounded, dad ?”
“No.” Jimin says blankly. “I’m going to cut off your fingers.”
The cornea of Jungkook’s eyes widened, like a cat frightened. His face pales into a white sheet, knowing full well that Jimin isn’t shy of delivering threats especially if it concerns his Namjoon.
“I-I—” Jungkook coughs out of pure, unbidden fear. “I haven’t gotten a-any concrete location yet, hyung. But I did manage to find s-some CCTV cameras during the time of the kidnapping. I—We managed to get one of those hooligans, Hoseok and Yoongi hyung are currently beating him up for some information.”
Jimin hums unceremoniously, once again looking ahead at his blank wall. “I want that information within the next ten minutes, Jungkook-ah.”
“Hyung—” Jungkook splutters. “He’s p-putting up a fight—”
“Ten minutes.” Jimin reiterates, firmly. “For every minute past that ten minute mark is a finger off of your hand.”
Shivers rack through Jungkook’s spine. He looks down at his hands, wondering if it’s the last time he’ll see them intact. Well, at least if Jimin cuts off half of my hand, that’s gonna cut down my hand cream expenses in half, too. The Body Shop has really gotten expensive, but…
No. Jungkook shakes his head. He’s in the biggest gang in all of Seoul, he can buy the entire The Body Shop corporation for fuck’s sake. “I’ll be right back, hyung.”
The younger man basically sprints out of the room, a furrow to his brow that tells Jimin that he’s not coming back here without his own knuckles bloodied and bruised from extracting the needed information himself. Or maybe, Jungkook would come back with a bunch of fingers that he would personally chop off from that dipshit that dared to touch his first and last role model.
Good. I don’t pay them to just play around.
Thinking about Namjoon has Jimin’s fist clenching again, a trail of worry tightening around his heart. He has full faith that Namjoon can handle himself. After all, Jimin isn’t stupid. He has prepared Namjoon for moments like these, personally teaching him things like combat techniques and how to get out of ropes, chains, or cells. Jimin knows that his blossom is anything but helpless.
Although a part of Jimin fears for his own head.
Because he knows that Namjoon is strong—strong enough to deprive Jimin of his ass should a single piece of diamond fall off from his 124 carat choker. Namjoon wouldn’t be afraid to chop off an inch of Jimin’s cock (okay maybe only half an inch, Namjoon likes Jimin’s dick big) should one of his nail extensions fall off if his gang leader of a boyfriend doesn’t get to him on time.
Oh Jimin is worried. But god does he miss his brat, too. He’ll make sure that those fuckers will pay. Fingers won’t even be enough for compensation for the damage they’ve done.
No, I’m in the mood to braid someone’s intestines.